Macau (O Moon) With the Ngan Family

("Greet Money Cat" in a mango pudding restaurant in Macau)

(Another form of Hot Pot. from the left: Liu Zhuo Rong a friend of the Ngan Family's son Nelson[Yan Jia Feng] who is sitting on the right.)

(Mr. Ngan and I enjoy Macau's best cup of coffee)

(So Japan! So Macau?)

(Veggie-Stall in Macau)

(Afternoon snooze in a Macau bakery.)

(Casino/Hotel Lisboa)

(Late night snack outdoors)

(Shutters in Taipa, Macau)

(Busy night in Macau)

(A lovely shady lane somewhere near Taipa, Macau. We walked along this street for a while before moving on to some Mango ice cream/pudding.)

(Portuguese style architecture in Macau. Macau was a part of Portugal until 1999.)

(Taxi to Taipa, Macau. Taipa is the northern part of the second island in the south of Macau.)

From April 17th to the evening of April 18th I was in Macau with my favorite Hong Kong family: the Ngans. I met them last time I was in Hong Kong when I stayed with them. They are hosting a boy from Reykjavik, Iceland named Baddi Olsen. Baddi was in Beijing while we were in Macau.

The first day in Macau was sunny and beautiful while the next was depressing and rainy (I spoke too soon Jane). Last time I went to Macau it was rainy too, but that time I was too excited about being in a place once owned by Portugal to care.

I really like Macau, and maybe sometime in the future when I have the chance to return, it will be sunny!

Grave Sweeping Festival 清明節

（譚Tan is my host father's family name. Before "sweeping" any graves we first went to the gathering of the family in a small government building's courtyard in the countryside.)

(Hell money, the money burnt near grave sites so the dead relatives may have spending money in the afterlife.)

(Selling fire crackers 鞭炮 [bian1 pao4, byen-pao].)

(爺爺 [yeh yeh: Grandfather] returning from his wife's grave.)

(My host father's mother's grave. She passed away when my host father was four years old. She had been ill for a long time my host mother told me.)

(Walking through a village street decorated with Grave Sweeping Festival things. The big flowery circle is made of paper, and in the middle it says 奠[dian4, dyen] which means to make an offering.)

(Water Ox used for plowing. )

(My host father [standing] and my host father's older brother [kneeling] in front of their grandmother's grave.)

(Walking through rice fields to leave grandmother's grave site.)

Grave sweeping festival doesn't actually involve sweeping any graves, at least the three graves my host family and I visited never got swept. Grave sweeping day was not really what I had expected. It seemed more traditional than Chinese New Year to me (or at least to my idea of traditional Chinese culture, but what do I know? I am foreign!). For my family this holiday involved a big get-together on my father's side of the family. The whole 譚 Tan family got together somewhere on the outskirts of a small town an hour and forty-five minutes outside of Chongqing.

My host father parked the sedan on the edge of a little dirt farm road outside a dingy little local government building complex somewhere in the countryside. I walked up to the gate that lead into the courtyard and was met by a hundred pair of eyes staring back at me. My host mother quickly moved me to a bench outside the courtyard and out of view. She didn't want my "presence" to interrupt the speech given by the head of the family (which was going on when we arrived). "I am sorry Xiao Tang [shao tah-ng : my nickname] I forgot to tell the family you would be coming to the celebration. I hope you aren't embarrassed!"

After the speech was said and done my family snuck in. Well not really...I was surrounded by a sea of old Chinese country folk, my host mother helped me press through them. When we finally made it to the table furthest from everyone a crowd of elderly men followed.

"Can he understand what we say?"

"Where is he from?" they asked.

"Look at how yellow his hair is," one exclaimed.

"His skin is so white!" another whispered.

"Oh, he can speak Chinese very well," my host mom piped up.

"Mmmm." Was the only response, mind you not an embarrassed one. Just a sort of unsure one.

After a drawn out lunch. My host mother, father, sister, uncle, aunt, grandfather, other aunt, and cousin separated from the rest of the Tan family and drove to our respective branch of the family's graves. We first visited my host father's mother's grave.

My host grandmother (I suppose I could say) is buried in a small vault located on a hill over looking rice paddies, bamboo groves and a small path leading through the fields. It was a very pretty place. We only had to walk along a narrow hill ridge for about 2 minutes before getting to her stone. Along the way we passed other graves. Most had already been visited. Incense sticks long burnt out still lay in front of the barely visible ivy-entangled tombstones. When I got to the grandmother's stone, my host aunts and uncle were already "talking" with her.

"This year their is a financial crisis Po-po, but you don't need to worry about us. We're all fine."

"Here look Po-po, I have brought Xiao Xiang [shao shah-ng : my four year old host sister] and our new friend Xiao Tang [shao tah-ng] to see you. Look at how big Xiao Xiang is getting."

"Will this be enough money Po-po? Use it well!"

Meanwhile my host uncle was staking a pole into the ground to hang white paper cuttings from. My host mother and cousin were burning Hell money so my host grandmother would be financially secure in the afterlife. When all was through everyone stood in front of the stone and made three deep bows. My host grandfather set the firecrackers off, as we walked away the sound of the firecrackers echoed off into the distance keeping the evil spirits far away from Po-po.

For some reason walking down the hill was very sad. It felt strange to know that as Westerners we really don't have a holiday like this. There is Day of the Dead but that's a bit different. I also like the fact that the family honors and remembers the dead together. That is very different I think.

Later that day we visited two more graves. One would have been my host great grandmother on my Father's side, and the other on my mother's side. It was just about the same. Except when we visit my host mother's grandmother my host father's side of the family didn't accompany us.

Huayan Temple 華巖寺

(Main entrance to the Huayan Temple compound.)

(The main attraction of this temple is the 16 meter high golden Buddha.)

(Carvings on the base of the Buddha [佛 fo2 Buddha].)

(Posing awkwardly in front of the massive Buddha.)

(Path to the rest of the temple compound.)

(Gate to a smaller temple within the Huayan Temple compound.)

(Candles used for lighting incense. People buy them and then stick them on a bar over a vat of cold water for people to use to light their incense.)

(Incense holder.)

(The inner courtyard of the smaller temple.)

(I don't know what the purpose of these towers are. They were in front of the gate to Chongqing's Buddhist School located on the temple grounds.)

(Outer hallway of the Buddhist school. Those aren't monks there, they are nuns. They laughed a lot and looked really happy. One had a cellphone.)

(Gate to leave the temple.)

(A picture of a poster, to give you an idea what the temple looks like from the air.)

(I took this picture when trying to find a bus after leaving the temple. The area outside the temple was really industrious, noisy, full of huge trucks, and dusty.)

Yesterday Ben, James Spencer-Owen, and I decided that our weekly adventure should be going to see a large golden Buddha. This golden Buddha is considered to be one of Chongqing's "tourist areas" as the ten yuan ticket proudly displays. The temple grounds were quite peaceful apart from the infrequent tour groups that were lead by women with high-volume microphones. I was more amazed by all the green around the temple and less by the giant Buddha. In Chongqing one seldom sees a very green park. Or many healthy looking trees for that matter.

The journey to and from Huayan Temple was another story. We took a taxi there, I was sure we were to die of asphyxiation from all the exhaust that the heavy-industry trucks were releasing. The air was also very dusty from all these trucks and traffic. On the way back most of the main roads were clogged with these same colossal trucks. We had to walk quite a ways before we came to an opening in the road and jumped onto a bus heading back to our district.

One thing that is a let down for temples (Ben pointed this out) is they lack any information telling you what it is you are looking at. What is this alter for? Who does this statue represent? etc. However that doesn't make it boring. Just a lot of guess work and assuming. Sometimes we consult wikipedia afterwords. Or I try to ask a temple-visitor what the painting of the jumping naked monk is for.

At one point we almost got lost within the confines of the temple. Ben accidentally walked through a door that lead to the nun's dormitories. A nun with a broom froze in mid-sweep at the gate as she watched Ben casually walk on in. Next to the gate there is a sign in Chinese that forbids men from entering. Whoops! Good thing I could read the sign otherwise I may have wandered in myself.

The nuns wore different colored robes than the monks. Nuns wear yellow-orange, while the monks wear black-coffee colored robes. I passed through the Chongqing Buddhist School and saw several young nuns chatting, smiling, and a few making phone calls on their cellphones. A sight I didn't expect to see in a temple! But then again I don't know much about them.

Lower Half City 長江的旁邊的下半城（朝天門的南部）

(On the old city wall.)

(Two little girls playing near the old city wall.)

(The gate of the old city wall.)

(A convenience store [便利店 byen-lee dyen] in Lower Half City.)

(Near the old city wall.)

(A man selling traditional Chinese medicine in Lower Half City, sometime in the early afternoon.)

(I am not sure whether this is a storefront or not. However, the back room with the television is some one's living quarters.)

(Lower Half City is located on a hilly part of Chongqing. There are many steps!)

(Street view.)

(Clothes and shoes. The front door of a very old/traditional Chongqing household.)

(A little boy sitting at the mouth of an alley way. Lower Half City is filled with random alleyways and helter-skelter steps.)

Last Tuesday Ben and I decided to have our weekly adventure. The weather was nice enough for an afternoon adventure. Normally we have "Adventure Thursdays" but last week we made an exception because of the favorable weather.

Two weeks ago my friend Jane had given me an old photocopy of a guide for Chongqing. One of the pages in the guide was for a place called 下半城 [sha-ban chung] or Lower Half City. In the guide it said that not many tourists go because this area is considered one of the poorest areas in Chongqing. Even though this place has done the best job of preserving the way Chongqing used to be. Hilly, many steps, ramshackle housing here and there, people playing Mah-jongg while smoking, old ladies selling things, laundry hung out everywhere you look, little kids playing in alleys. That's just what it is.

Ben and I had a field day taking pictures of the happenings in Lower Half City. Afterwards I felt guilty because I wouldn't like it if someone shamelessly photographed my neighborhood. But also I am afraid that in the future Lower Half City might not exist because of all the new development going on in Chongqing. Especially because Lower Half City is located right next to the longest river in China, the Yangtze. I was feeling a little torn!

The residents of Lower Half City were very kind. They smiled a lot. Many times they would warn us of dead-ends up ahead. Telling us that it's "not good walk!" in Chinese, meaning you won't accomplish anything by walking there...like finding another way out other than the way you came in. One man told us "In a place like this you can walk for days and still see something new."
(Ramshackle houses.)

Let's Go Fly a Kite 我們去放風箏吧！

(People loitering on the stairs that lead up the mountain [Chinese doesn't have a word for "hill," it is either mountain, or little mountain]. Most of the way there are switchbacks that lead up the hill.)

(Vendors selling kites to park-goers at the front gate of the park.)

（Looking down on to Chongqing from Flat Top Hill Park [平頂山公園] . Usually Chongqing's weather is a mixture of fog, dust, haze, and pollution. This is one of the worst days I have seen.)

Last Sunday I went with two Chinese friends and Ben to a park on a hill near my school. Although the weather wasn't sunny it was sweltering that day! We all thought surely Chongqing's summer has arrived, alas the past two days have been overcast and a bit rainy. Chongqing's weather is so fickle! Ben flew a kite (or tried to) whilst on top of the hill, and our Chinese friends helped. I decided to take pictures.