people connexion

Today, I spent my afternoon at the café, I had many many things to take care of. I suddenly look around me, and can see chinese and HK people everywhere. I hear cantonese and mandarin. I love it. I feel I am at home.
This is a very dynamic place, where everyone meets up for language exchange, or to meet friends, or networking, or also just to chill out, alone or with friends.

There are many old people, but also students, mothers with their baby. It is one bad thing about HK, that you have nowhere to go with a child. Except the fact that it is now quite cold outside, it is also polluted, and there is no space to chill out, except the few parks that people know by heart. There is already no space for walking people in the streets, so no wonder about stroller !

There is a lot going on here, and I think it is like a microcosme: I feel I am in a small city, like when you see these documentaries on tv about the life of ants, or like the movies, where you enter an inner world inside our own world. That's pretty cool actually. It is very much alive ! and for those who feel lonely that's a good place jsut to feel the linked to the human being. 

Next to me there is this old woman, that I already met many times at the same place. I stay here for few hours, doing my work, and she is here doing nothing but sleeping, or trying to speak to me (but unfortunately I do not speak a word of cantonese). Today, she said me "hello, hi", and she likes to speak to people, just because she is a lonely person, but she is a person, so feels the need to connect. Good for her, after trying to catch some people, she made a new acquaintance sitting on her left, and they have been talking for more than an hour I guess. I like it. Connexion, the will to connect and share things, it is people, it is what people are, what people do, what people look for.
I love being part of this human connexion, though sometimes, as anyone, I am not in the mood. Today I am, and connect too.

le café noir/ the back coffee

And because my previous post is so serious, deep, and maybe scary (though it is just part of the life), I am going to write right now a new post, about smth lighter, but smth I have been thinking about for a while.

As far as I can remember, I have always hated the taste of coffee. Paradoxally, I have always loved turning into the coffee to mix it with some sugar/ milk. Even when there is nothing to add, I liked to put the spoon into it, and just turn it. I can't really explain why. There is smth about the coffee that is beyond the simple purpose of it. This is an art work. The color of the coffee, deep black, the texture of it, dense and creamy on the top, it is pure softness while strong in taste.

When I do it, it's as if time was suspended, and I am loosing myself in that coffee, it's like falling in another time space. i can't focus on anything else but this coffee, its texture. I enjoy the way it turns creamy colored with the milk (that is why sometimes when I go to restaurant wth a set meal with coffee, I just do some experimentation to enjoy this time), it sounds sweeter and softer, like I would dive into it. However my bf doesn't drink it with milk, so I restreints myself with sugar. But that's all good fun: it is as if I could feel the molecular of sugar melting in the coffee, this sugar becoming part of it. Firstly, you can feel the grains of sugar in the coffee and on the bottom of the cup, it is unsmooth, and with turning the teaspoon inside, you help the sugar fuse the coffee. This is terrific.

I remember having tried coffee at my grandmother's place when I was very young (around 10). Except my nucelar family (parents & brothers& sister), all my relatives live in the north of France. So when we were cisitng them, it was usually for few days, and my paretns dropped us at our grandmothers' house while they were staying at the hotel. It was cheaper (we were at taht time 3: my sister, my brother and me), and we actually loved staying at their place. My mum's mother was the best for me, because she was very laxist, almost no rules, we could eat candies and other sweet things whenever we wanted to. She had also lots of toys in some dusty boxes in her garage, and Tintin's comics upstairs in the cupboard of my mother's old bedroom. With time, we knew them by heart but always loved to read it again and again.

So one morning I woke up with my sister, and we went downstairs to have a breakfast: usually milk, juice, cheese and bread, and also some jam. This was actually already unusual for us, at home breakast was always bread& nutella or cereals, but never salted food like cheese. That was so good. And this morning, my sister took a cup of coffee with milk. She was way to young to drink that. At home it was only for adults. But in my grandma's place, it was the no rule place, so we did what we couldn't do at home of course. Maybe she did it (and that's what I think) because my grandma was drinking that as well, and you know now, coffee is for grown up. So she took some. So did I. I didn't want to do like grown ups, but just do like my sister. I didn't like it at all. I added a lot of milk, it was actually more a milk with some coffee rather than a cup of coffee with milk. I never drank coffee after this. It tasted awful. Maybe that's when I started to like turning my teaspoon into it.

Now everytime my bf takes a coffee, I add some sugar and turn with his teaspoon into it. He asked me why I liked to do that? This short story may be the answer of this mystery. Life is all about enjoying small things.

the value of life

I had a little health problem last june, and this made me realize how important life is. Well it's not only a statement: I realized the reality: we are all alive for a short period of time, some people shorter than others. But even if we live our full life let us say until 85, it is still so short. Life flies. From being a baby to our 20s life is kinda long, and we wished we could already be 20 and independent. When we reach smth like 25, we realize we cannot go back, and we head towards old and death, that's not a cheerful perspective right. Usually people are way too concerned with their everyday life to understand the meaning of the life, the value of it. We are now struggling to find a job in HK, and all that matters to him is to get a job, to be able to say "I have a job, I am doing this", to make money, well to do what society told us to do: get a job, get a gf, get married, have children, buy a house, etc, etc. When we die, we all loose whatever we built, whatever we earnt, whatever we had. It goes to our children if we have. However, when we die, do we really care about the fact that we started working at 27??

It is very difficult to explain what I felt, and what I still feels about life and death. I have never thought about it that way before. Well sometimes I did think "what about us when we die? what happens after?" jsut tried to imagine what it felt to be dead, and to have no more connexion with our alive world. This is scary.
One of my good friend's father just died after 5months fighting against his illness. It made me feel very sad, as if I could feel all my friend's sadness.

I don't like to talk about it, because it scares me, as everyone I guess, that is why it is a taboo. However, it is such a burden for me, to think about it, that drives me crazy at night. I guess I should just live my life as everyone, not thinking about it, jsut do what I have to do. But I also think about that day, when I hit 40 or 50, and I will think "OMG that was so great when I was in my 20s, I didn't know at that time, I should have more enjoyed my time, my youth, my beauty (well doesn't mean I think I am beautiful, but surely more beautiful now that when I am in my 50s, though I want to get old, because I want to live). It is such a paradox, and all these thinking helps me understand why some people killed themselves, or why some people cryogenized.

Life is one thing, youth is another, but why people love youth so msuch? I don't think it is actually because when we are young we are beautiful: ok young people do not have wrinkles, are slimmer, ok. But I see lots of older women, just like my mother, who is now 55, who are very beautiful. We like youth because it means still starting life, it means stil having lots of years to live. And when we get old, it means illness and death. It means we are getting closer to the day we will leave this world, this world where people are alive, doing what they have to do, but also and I guess most of all where all our family, parents, children, brothers and sisters are. When we die, we loose the connexion with them. This is the scariest part. I think, like everyone, I am afraid of being left alone somewhere, or maybe just not exist anymore.

What happened to all these people that lived before us? Can they still hear us? see us? communicate? Do they have their own world? like we have. We have no idea of what is after death, depending on the religion, they are various answers. What happened to my grand father, that had died already 17 years ago? I can't believe that it has been such a long time already. I missed him so much, and I could feel him close to me. When I think about him, I still can feel him, and I don't want to think it is my imagination. However, the most important for me is not to have lost him, but that he lost us. How does he feel now? what does he do? I prayed a lot these past 10 years, and always the same thing came into my mind: that my relatives that had died foudn each others and are happy, wherever they are. I don't pray like I used to do before.
Am I too busy with alive people? I even do not take the time to write mails to my parents, though my family is the most important thing in my life, with my bf, who I live with.No. I am just scared. I feel surrounded by death: my parents give me news, and there is always soe that got a cancer or tumor, that scares me.

Maybe  I decided to give more attention to this world, because I do realize how short is my time here, as every human being. I also do realize that what is essential for me is to have kids, because they are the one that will remain, and so it will be part of me remaining here.

Sometimes I even think deeper: what is the point of living? people may become rich and discover the world, live in luxury, eat the most delicious food, some others may get an award, and nobel prize, or any other price, and what for?
The only sure thing is that doctors and researchers, that find way to recover from HIV, cancer, tumor, and other death illness will have the most important, real, major impact on this world. And if one day we discover a way to stay younger and younger, thanks to the stem/progenitor sell, what will happens? I wish I could stay on this world forever, but there is no point to stay here without your family, and friends, and then these people will feel the same, and somehow, everyone is connected to everyone, so what will happen? Will we colonize a new planet? What will happen to the human race? like dinausors, we are going to extinct because of some natural reason, like the death of the sun? Or will we die because of the lack of natural resources such as water?
Ok just read la Nuit des Temps / the Ice People from Barjavel (french author). I do not believe in this, as I do not know what to believe, but I like this book.

I guess, life is just about enjoying and being happy. As for me, it means being with my family as much as I can, creating bonds with people, sharing life with my bf, discovering life in all it's diversity, culture and customs.

I am sitting in that café in HK, and I feel a bit lighter, now that I shared this feeling. Always stay positive and happy.

Happy New Year

We have been in 2011 for a week now and I feel a change: an excitement to start smth new, to have more challenges, to build my network, get some friends, that may be important to me in one year. It is starting a new life: it is just not very well balanced at the present time, as I am still looking for a job.

My flight was fine, very tiring, and I finally got over the jetlag (after a week). I met some people on the plane, and that is always an interesting story they tell me.
This gril sitting next to me on the first flight, australain, had spent 3months in Kenya and was very looking forward to come back home to see her family, she had a very weird voice, and a strong accent. This is maybe why they put movies in the plane, so that you can put the earphones and stop any conversation.
On my connexion flight: from Doha, Qatar to HK, I got an algerian neighbour. He slept most of the time, but every time he was awake, he had to speak to me: and asking about me, and showing me the pictures of his family, and explaining me his business, and what he was going to do in HK. He ended asking my help to call some people to make a deal, but I had to decline the "offer": I was at taht time so sick, so tired, and I only wanted to meet my bf and do a second christmas with him.
I could tell so many other stories like this one. I do not know why people start speaking to me, I do not think I looked like open minded at that time (I was just coughing all the time, nose running, addicted to medecine, well you can see the picture).I guess it is just a human being thing. Maybe that is also people in needs of contact, exchanging opinions, maybe also those feeling excited about a new trip, a new destination, newness in general, you like to share it. Anyway.

I flew back to HK on the 28th, arrived on the 29th, and have been sleeping for two days. My mother made me laugh the minutes before my departure. She told me "oh Marie you look much better, at least you had a good rest here" I know she feels sad. So I felt that I had to reply and inform her: "but mum, I was fine when I arrived, and I am sick now, I got your germs!!"

I was the first to leave the family house (because I wanted to spend the new year in HK), however both my sister and my brother left around the 1st. At least they could do the "galette des rois". I learnt today that ther is no english equivalent, but let's put it this way "epiphany cake". So basically on the first sunday of the new year, we make/buy a cake made traditionnally with frangipani and inside is hidden a charm. Then you must ask the youngest to go under the table, and he gives the name of each person eating the pie to give a slice of the pie, so you make sure no one cheats to get the lucky charm (if we could see eat because we cut the slices on the charm, or because we can see it from outside: my sister and younger brother are very well trained cheaters at anything so better be prepared). The one who has it in his slice becomes the king/queen and he must choose his queen/her king. That is a tradition in France, and though I do not like frangipani, I like to do it and participate, it is my culture you know.
My friend in HK just called me, and told me she had a hard time looking for a King cake in HK, she finally found one place where you could buy a slice of a pie for 5€. She did it, because it is our tradition. And you can feel nowhere better than abroad the burden of traditions and culture. My parents sent me a picture of my brother with the crown (because when you buy a cake, there are two crowns along with it, for the king and his queen). My brother always gets the charm, do not know if it is because he is very lucky, or because he usually eats half of the pie (also do not know if it is because of the charm or because he likes it). Anyway.

Whatever you culture is, wherever you are, I wish each and everyone of you a very happy new year. Let's make 2011 the year of newness, happiness, and craziness :))

the show

My parents offered us a show at the Celestins, a beautiful theater in Lyon. This was called Slava's snowshow. Thanks to the technology, I have two pictures, so you can better imagine how the show was.


First you have to imagine the place. It is a real theater, with red velvet seats. We were in a small room with three levels, so we just felt at home. The floor was white of confettis, just like snow. There were two types of clowns with two very different personalities:
- one, with a yellow suit and red shoes, unkempt hair, a sad look, melancholic expression. He is on his own, apart.
- the others were wearing a long hat that stretch from left to right, a big green coat that reminds me of christmas tree, and very big shoes that gives a feeling of them gliding on the floor.Those one are funny, mischievous, the like to play tricks and others interest them, especially the other clown. They are maybe five or six, I can not really remember.

The play lasts 1h30, with one interval after the first half hour, I was surprised how fast it cames to it. The first 15 minutes were not that great, I couldn't enter their world, people were laughing and I did not know why. Then, they created a new scene, and I smiled and laughed, and I get relaxed. The interval came at that time, too bad. I wanted more.
It was a linking of scenes, and I could not tell if it was rehearsed or brand new play. I guess a bit of both, as the director demands no rehearsal. What was particularly original was that the company included the public in the play: big spider's web on the people, clowns walking on the public's seats, grabbing heads to maintain an uncertain balance, there was even a girl carried on the stage, and the clown made her turn: we saw her but, that was pretty funny, she felt pretty ill at ease! that was crazy. There were a lot of other funny scenes, sometimes odd, I could not understand what they were doing, but we were always smiling.

 I could tell lots of other details, but that would be a very long post. The best is to go see the show.

As things go, I realize that I would have liked to share this show with my bf. I just realize that I want to share everything with him. Weird feeling. I am french, I am young, I like to live my own things, to be on my own, to discover things, but now, I wish I could discover things with my bf. All the time.

Merry Christmas

Yesterday, I was sitting on my bed, playing tarot with my young brother. I just ate smoked salmon and fish, then the traditional yule log (I just discovered this word). That was good of course, though I do not feel christmas the same way as usual. I do not really know how to explain. Ok I flew back to France from HK ten days ago to spend christmas with my famlily.
I spent almsot a week in Paris, at my sister's place, to meet friends& acquaintances, to have some time for myself, to adapt to France before going back home, in other words going back to my family. You must know what I talk about: I needed a first stage to adapt to France, before being back in my famlily, where everyone always asks you to do smth, asks you about smth, or just is here. We are six, so except in my own room (and that's not always the case), I can not be on my own. There is always soe somewhere. That's ok though, I am not criticizing, I am just saying a fact. I missed my family especially my young brother (with who I was playing tarot), so I was happy to see them. But you know how it works. You get used to live by yourself, doing whatever you want to do without hearing people commenting/discussing the fact/ criticizing what you are doing, what you are eating, what you are wearing, etc etc.
For instance, this morning, I wanted to have my breakfast, so I went in the kitchen, where my mother already was. She is sick, like half of my family during this christmas. So we just say the common wors "hi how are you? is it getting better? etc etc". Then I was looking at a book, having an orange juice (I wanted to eat cereals but my young brother, that I was missing before, and that I want to strangle now, finished the milk without bringing a new one), when my father arrived. He started to speak "is the dishwasher clean? oh look at the knife, it is so dirty, who did this?", etc etc, then "oh it's cold because of this, we should lag this things, this guy always wondered how we could get our house warm", "or maybe I should put a heater there", etc etc and I was thinking "OMG I won't be able to have a breakfast quietly, how am I going to leave this room without hurting his feeling? and then "marie, do you need to see/discuss smth with me? because marion (my sister) asked me to have a look at her banl accounts, " "no no no need thanks", and I got up, and left suddenly the room. My mother was also clearing the table, so I do not know if she finally stayed.

That is what I try to explain: I can't be left alone. I feel a bit guilty when I write this: I mean this house is my parents', so I do not have to demand to be alone, but I do demand a quiet environment during breakfast time. It's ok though, if my father wants to speak, he can, I just prefer to leave. My father always wants to speak, that is the problem. Usually, I can stand a monologue, - and I am not being nasty saying that, he really does monologue, without realising it, he is very out of reality for some things - but not for breakfast.

So I was saying strange christmas, but I can't say why exactly. We had this traditional french christmas: my mother and I attended the mass -almost two hours of songs, and pray, where I meet my very good friend every year - then we came back home, where everyone was waiting for us. We had champagne, opened presents, had the starter - homemade foie gras - main course, - capon -, and desert, my father moant about it, it was a Yule log, but he wanted an ice cream one, he always has a say.
We ended the dinner after midight, that went great except this tiny little thing about the cake. There was a friend of family, so ti may have felt a bit different because of her, I do not know. But the thing that my mother was sick made a big difference, because she was not as enthusiat as usual. Also, the fact that I heard my father yelling at her, should I say screaming at her, arounf midnight and half contributed surely to my weird feeling. The fact that he yield at her again the following morning pissed me off. I thought, woa nothing changes here, after so many years, and this man, he does not care screaming at his wife, that he surely truly loves. Besides she is sick, and besides this, it is christmas. I am jsut so disappointed about that.

The thing is that ti has been so common that he screamed at her, that for him, and for her, it is natural. It is not. What's the hell is wrong in is mind to scream at soe you care about? This is so disrespectuf towards her. One day, I yield at one of my ex bfs about smth, and he made me realize, I could not tell how by now, that I jsut could not do that. That it is not smth we do, screaming at people you care about. He could not have been mor right. I am just astonished that my mother does not react more. This is the unbalance of my family. I made a promise to myself, that it won't be like this for me.

Merry christmas to all

For those who know, I have another blog about Mongolia. Ok, you are going to say: what is it with MGL? Nothing. It is going to sound a bit presomptuous but, it is about me. Yeah, well, when I witness some interesting situations, I like to share it. So here I am in Paris. Actually, I am here for two weeks, for christmas holidays. I stay at my sister's place in Paris, and I am actually very happy to wander around for few days. After a few months overseas, I just realize how charming France is. It is just so nice to walk around, and enjoy the french life, spending half of your time in subways, walking under the rain, paying your tea/coffee 3€, etc and etc. But it is also walking on the paved streets, at every turn finding an antique shop, some postcards here, and some small bakeries there where you can savoure the best custard tart ever (my favorite cake).

Ok, I sidetrack. So I was in the subway, to meet up a friend. I had maybe ten stops to go so I decided to finish my book (You are the one I don't want, Alexandra Potter, you may think "oh just from the title I can smell the blue flower story", but I tell you, this is a very funny book, so if you want to enjoy a three hours reading, go for it). The thing is that this girl in front of me was speaking so loudly that I couldn't focus on my litterature. I know what you think, "it's not because she is speaking loudly but because you are such a curious person that you wanted to hear her story", absolutely not, maybe a little bit, no no not at all. But anyway, I had to listen to it, and it was just so stupid. She was a18 years old girl, die hair, old make-up under her eyes, looked like a teenager. Spoke like a teenager. Saying teenager things. Thinking like a teenager. So annoying.

Here she was, speaking to her mum (I guess), about soe that had some problems, was stressed, or I don't know, anyway. And she was saying, from her 15years old voice "yes you know I told her, ok do whatever to relax, smoke a cigarette, go on your balcony and smoke, ... you know what I mean, just take a cigarette, go and smoke, calm down, relax..." OMG I haven't heard so much bullshit (sorry about that) in my whole life, no but honestly, cigarette has nothing to do with relaxing. She was just trying to look "adult" with speaking about cigarettes, that's why I said "acting like a teenager". Only teenagers not only do not realise, but also think, that cigarettes is a matter of being grown-up. This is just so annoying to witness people acting a certain way to achieve smth, but who achieve the exact opposite of what they wanted. She wanted to be considered as an adult, speaking about -what she considered- grown-up stuff, though she actually achieved the opposite of what she wanted: I just thought: what a stupid girl.

I guess I was kind of the same when I was 15, maybe.Maybe. I was just thinking to tell her how stupid she sounded. This leads me to another very important topic to me: cigarettes. I simply hate it. I did smoke when I was young and stupid = when I was a teenager. I tried, as everyone, because it is just a social thing to do. It is like all these things you have to go through when you are a teenager: first kiss, first sex time, first suspension at school, first drunken party, etc etc. I do think you can't help it: teenagers just have to go through all of these things. But what makes the difference then, is the thinking afterwards. When you hit 20 years old, you have to start thinking by yourself, and for yourself. Come on guys, don't just be followers, don't just be sheep, or whatever you want to call it. Honestly, what do cigarettes bring you? the only thing would be style, and honestly, it doesn't. You are just like the others, needing an accessoire to feel confident. Oh come one, nobody needs that to feel comfortable in society. This thing won't give you what you are looking for: social group, self confidence, style...

I think, it is the same thing as the story I told before. I feel upset about it because people act in such a way to get smth, but they get the opposite result, and yes, this upset me. I can't help but getting upset, getting that feeling inside me of anger, because they look stupid. And more than that with cigarettes, they put their life in jeopardy. My sister smokes. What should I do? Look at her and say nothing? I simply can't do that. This is not me. I feel so worried for her, because I love her, she is my family. And she says "I am stressed, I am angry let me do whatever I want ok?", but she doesn't realise, the cigarette won't bring her peace, she may have health problems, and it just smells tobacco on all her clothes (and btw this gives me headache). Besides, this doesn't give her any style, this doesn't give her anything. She should ask herself: " why do I want to smoke? what do I feel after smoking? do I feel better? did it solve my problems? my anxiety?"
All the smokers should read Allen Carr, Easy way to stop smoking. Please guys, have some will and do it.