Looking Back

Another long trip back across the Pacific.

It was early Friday morning (October 17, Beijing time) when I started writing this, about eight hours after opening the door of our little abode in Zhongshan late the night before.

This, the end to this year’s six-month stay in Canada, which culminated in a week-long adventure on the West Coast.

Vancouver left me with a lasting impression. Now, being so acclimatised to living in an Asian environment where countryside populations are similar to their counterparts in urban centres, Vancouver felt more like an urban population hurridly bouncing around in the middle of an immense wilderness. Zoom in, and there are places like Kitsilano (where we were able to housesit for three days) and the West End. These places, despite retaining a small-town feel, have a vibrant coolness distinctly different from Toronto—like travelling to a different planet.

Q’s sister, a refugee (of sorts) who escaped Toronto’s checkerboard city-planning style, has transformed herself into the somewhat ubiquitous West Coast Bohemian image. Now, having lived in the West End for a year, she finds contentment, spending her days developing calligraphy skills and hanging out with locals at pubs with spectacular views of English Bay. On sunny days, presumably while passionately discussing geopolitics, economics, and the stock market, they can also watch the sun slowly (awkwardly, almost horizontally) descend behind a distant strip of mountains beyond the Georgia Strait. They call this “Happy Hour”—Vancouver style!

The absolute highlight, though, wasn’t the chance to sit on a log on Third Beach while feeling that beautiful West Coast sun energise my skin. It was, instead, an intimate gathering/dinner of a group of friends, artists from a Banff Centre program (almost 50 years earlier). One, Gaye Hammond, an amazing artist that I haven’t seen since the early 1980s.

Three days were also spent on Vancouver Island. An island the size of Taiwan, but with a population smaller than the average third-tier city in China. Here, the wilderness is so vast that small-town communities, like Duncan, where my brother Richard lives, feel like contemporary versions of imperial British settlements, suspended in time, each somewhat separated by surrounding mountains and forests.

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Sigh, sigh! This trip has given me so much to reflect on. For six months, while in Toronto, I reflected on a lifetime of experiences while building a small website (www.latortugatenaz.online) showcasing a few artistic achievements.

Now, finally back home in Zhongshan, I have time to reflect on my reflections.

Excuse the analogy, but it’s like saying to hell with barreling down the highway of time, occasionally glancing back through the rearview mirror. Instead, stopping the car, unbuckling, getting out, resting against the rear bumper, and gazing back through time—with a smile (of course). This is where the road has led! A little proud and a little melancholy, what can I do but just give a sigh and say thanks to Destiny for providing a journey filled with so many unique experiences.

Anyway, now it feels like there’s not too much road left! A sense of urgency exists! The urgency to prioritise “the important” by supporting those who are closest while simultaneously taking the little pieces of my own accomplishments and trying to figure out a way to package them in a manner that can, at least for a while, avoid being forgotten or ending up in a garbage dump.

Then, when this task is complete, I can finally sit back, smile, and wait.

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It was a great summer, I connected with people, some of whom I hadn’t seen in decades. I also made some new friends. Most importantly, I had time to feel time (like the Canadian summer breezes gently rustling through trees) drift, from one day to the next.ik