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IN THIS ISSUE

• Kate Brookfield describes important Taiwanese memorial sites
• Geoff Goodship tells of a senior moment in a recent trip
• Dick Monaghan is disturbed by modern inefficiency
• Kate Brookfield and Peter Weatherby comment on recent articles
• Bob Brown recalls an exciting moment in his African experiences
• Rafiki sends a story about visiting Grandpa
• Tom Williamson forwards a story of a faithful wife
• Jean Sterling, Nevil Horsfel, Tom Telfer, and Tom Williamson recommend sites

Kate Brookfield writes about

MEMORIALS

Today, April 4, is a public holiday that nobody told us about until we discovered everything is closed. It is "Grave Sweeping" day. This is the day the Chinese remember the departed, and when they go and clean up the grave sites. In a way, it is like our earth day as they are cleaning up all over the place. Not that there is a lot of litter strewn about. Compared to the UK and Europe, especially Greece, there is not much garbage thrown about, or if there is, it is cleaned up quickly. There are also lots of garbage containers, marked for sorting into recyclables or trash.

The date is significant, the fourth day of the fourth month, because the number four is considered bad luck for the Chinese. In some large buildings, floors 4 and 13 do not exist. The reason is associated with the similar sound for number four (si) and the word for death (si). As this is a tonal language, the difference is in how they pronounce the word. Incidentally, the word for west is also (si). Normally there would be a character mark indicating which tone is used, but I am not able to put the tone marks in this text.

So it seems appropriate for me to write on this day a little bit about two important figures in the history of the Chinese Republic and their memorial buildings in Taipai. Dr. Sun Yat-Sen, the founder of the Chinese Republic, and Chiang Ki-shek, the founder of modern Taiwan and the reason for its ideological separation from communist-ruled mainland China.

Dr. Sun Yat-Sen´s memorial building is not far from the city hall and the 101 tower. On my photo web page there is a photo of the building and gardens around it, taken in the rain. The SYS Memorial building was the central location for the Taipei lantern festival, where they had the main lantern made of many inflated rats. The national flag flies outside the building and is raised and taken down each day with an elaborate ceremony.

All this is to say that Dr. Sun Yat-Sen is still very much respected by the people of Taiwan. As a young man he travelled to the west and when he came back to China, he was motivated to do something about the backward way of life under the Chinese Qing Dynasty. He devoted his life to "revolution" to bring about changes. The Qing dynasty ended with the abdication of the last Emperor. The story is well told in the movie "The Last Emperor". More detail about his life can be found with a Google search. Here is one good link:

http://www.gio.gov.tw/taiwan-website/5-gp/yearbook/2002/bio_sun.htm

The memorial building to Dr. Sun Yat-Sen is the centre for many activities. I spent almost the whole day there yesterday, including having a very nice lunch in the restaurant. In the basement there were adult classes in progress and a whole gallery of children´s art depicting their visit to the memorial. Some of them were very amusing, showing that their main memory was blowing bubbles in the sculpture park outside.

In the main entrance there is a large oil painting of Dr. Sun with a hundred people behind him, all named in Chinese, but some I recognized. The plaque in English says the painting was commissioned for a Chinese American artist, Li Bin, to paint a portrait of SYS to commemorate his 40 years of leadership in the Chinese Revolution that ended Imperial rule in China. The painting is entitled "The Founding Father of the Republic of China". It took two years to paint, because the artist researched all the other people who made revolutionary changes. He interviewed historians and others about whom to include in the crowd of people behind the main subject. What surprised me is that there were no postcard copies of the portrait on sale. I asked if they had a copy of the painting in English and they were surprised at my interest. Then they brought me a huge glossy reproduction, about 8 x 10, as a gift. I have not found a copy of the painting on the web and I do not have a scanner. I told the guide it would be a good idea to have it in English as visitors are interested and she told me, "That is a good idea!"

The main hall of the building has a huge, and I mean HUGE, statue of a seated Sun Yat-Sen. On either side of the statue, two guards are standing absolutely still, carrying a flag. Every hour there is a formal changing of the guards ceremony with the full goose stepping and slow march, presenting arms, etc. In front of the statue is a sign which says "Salute as you pass." I did not salute as I passed and got a dirty look from a man hovering around in plain clothes, who was obviously the real guard.

It was quite a maze of a place, with galleries showing some beautiful Chinese paintings, meeting rooms, and another large gallery showing all the memorabilia of SYS´s life and work. I particularly liked a series of bronze statues, which could be miniatures of larger ones depicting his life from childhood to old age.

Outside the memorial hall there are more statues. One of a mother with a baby stands out as she is a very large lady and her body is huge and bright pink. She figured a lot in the children´s paintings mentioned above. The bronze sculptured faces of mother and child are quite exquisite, and I do not understand why her body has to be such a glaring pink and quite ugly, in my opinion. I will try to get a photo of her, but each time I have been to this memorial it has been pouring with rain.

The other important memorial building is the Chiang Kai-shek memorial building. Only recently, it has been renamed the National Democracy Building. The President-elect for Taiwan, Ma Yingjeou, belongs to the Chiang Kai-shek political party replacing the Democratic Party (DPP) that has been in power for the last few years. The DPP lost a lot of support because, it seems, the President was causing waves between mainland China and Taiwan and has been pushing for Taiwan to be accepted in the UN as a separate country. Or maybe like any country, the people voted for change.

This memorial building was built as a memorial for Chiang Kai-shek after his death. When he and Mau disagreed about the philosophy of the Chinese Republic and Mau chose the Communist route, Chiang K. moved to what was then the island of Formosa, now Taiwan. But he was a military dictator, a bit like Castro in Cuba. His rule was not all sweetness and light and the building records all the people who died fighting for democracy. It seems the journalists were the prime movers seeking freedom of the press. There are also lots of huge reproductions from newspapers of bloody massacres, etc. There is also a gallery of his memorabilia, including three of his cars and a waxed figure of him seated at his desk.

But this building is only one of several in this complex. A large entrance gate leads to a huge tiled square with the CKS memorial building facing the gate. On both sides are two other large buildings. One is the National Concert Hall and opposite it is the National Theatre. We have been to several concerts at the concert hall, where they have some excellent performances from orchestras and singers from around the world. The National Library is on the opposite side of the road to the gates. This is the cultural centre of Taipei, but quite a distance from the city centre.

Please visit my Picasa website if you would like to see photos of these memorial buildings.

Geoff Goodship sends this

SHORT STORY WITH A HAPPY ENDING

The country mice went to the big bad city and found an interesting adventure.

My wife and I were married in Vancouver 50+ years ago. When we first moved to the Island, we returned to the big smoke frequently. Frequently became infrequently. We´ve reached a point where we pass through Vancouver only in winter and only on the way to someplace where it´s warm and sunny.

A mild case of cabin fever persuaded us we needed a three-day holiday - a trip to Vancouver to visit old haunts and to find out if Vancouver really is the crime, murder, and drug-infested swamp that´s reported in the media.

We left our car where we were staying in Kerrisdale, then took the bus into the downtown area with plans to take our first trip on the Skytrain. We were a little cautious, mindful of all the news stories about mugging and drug deals we´ve heard about Skytrain. We were attempting to maintain a cool look while expecting to see some dastardly crime.

As they boarded the bus, the country mice asked the bus driver, "Where is the transfer point for the Skytrain?"

"I´ll call it," she replied - and she did. The country mice exited the bus at the Burrard Station. As the bus pulled away, the mice realized they had left their backpack and all the ´cheese´ on the bus. In that backpack were all the things needed for that three-day holiday: wallet, money, credit cards, glasses, etc.

Mice in a trap! Panic!

In less than a minute the next bus arrived. With sweaty paws and wide eyes, they approached the driver: "Is there anything we can do?"

The bus driver used the phone in his bus to call, who knows where? He had that "more dumb country mice" look on his face. The line was busy. "Your call is sixth in the priority list," he advised. He took his personal cellphone from his jacket and made another call. "Get on my bus," he said, "and I´ll take you to a transit supervisor."

A few blocks along, the driver pointed to a blue cubicle smaller than a country outhouse. "Go there," he said.

The country mice approached the transit supervisor´s outhouse to squeak out their tale of woe.

"What bus were you on? Where did you get off and what time was it?" he asked. Armed with our best guesses, Superman made a call. He turned from the phone to ask, "What colour is the backpack?"

"Red and black," the mice chirped in harmony.

"Be back here in 50 minutes," Superman said. With worried looks, the country mice headed for Starbucks for a stimulant, then to a flower shop for a dozen roses.

In 50 minutes, Superman and the mice awaited the arrival of the backpack-carrying bus. The country mice were nearly jumping up and down. The lady driver pulled her bus up to the curb. She had a huge smile and waved like a long-lost cousin. The mice offered flowers and thanks.

There may be cats and some big rats in the big city, but not on the Coast Mountain Transit Company.

Dick Monaghan complains about

CLOTHING OUTRAGES

I was standing in the bedroom the other day, composing a letter to The New York Times in which I revealed the solution to the China-Tibet problem, when I realized my underwear was on backwards.

This was not, as you might think, due to senility (although the fact I couldn´t remember whether I´d taken my pills might be). It is due to the underwear manufacturer´s cavalier disregard of the 11th Commandment: "Thou shalt not label men´s underwear in the front."

I have many pairs of shorts that are properly labelled, so that I have no problem with them. But this renegade brand forced me into the position of re-dressing, which is greatly annoying. I put a value on my time of about $350 per hour (although, I confess, no one else does), and to have to waste some $58.33 of hypothetical wages is galling.

That´s not my only clothes complaint. I am, as it happens, a "coarse feeder," meaning that a great deal of the butter on buttered popcorn ends up on my shirt. I was wearing a turtleneck the other day, and when I flung it into the wash, considerably buttered, I was informed that because of the peculiar (synthetic) cloth from which it was made, the grease wouldn´t come out of it. What? We put men on the moon and we can´t get popcorn butter out of a shirt? I smell a commercial conspiracy.

I have written my Congresspersons about these (and other) outrages, but they must have lost my address.

CORRESPONDENCE

Kate Brookfield writes: In response to Jack Peaker´s fur story, I believe the First Nations People still wear animal furs. Also, in winter there are usually coat drives to give to the homeless. I am sure nobody would throw eggs at the homeless. Once the coat has been made, there is no point in attacking the wearer, but breeding animals in inhumane conditions just for fur coats is a cruel abuse of animals. Modern fibres are warmer and healthier.

~~~~~~~

Peter Weatherby writes: Thank you, Tom Williamson, for forwarding the inspiring story by Jeff Guidry about the bald eagle "Freedom."

I recently read a novel by Dean Koontz called "The Darkest Evening of the Year," about a golden retriever. Of course, it is a fictional story, but I honestly believe that animals possess a power to heal that we do not understand.

When they come to us, broken, nearly dead, and we care for them and make them better, something happens to us, and we in turn are healed.

Bob Brown remembers an incident from the time he served in Africa:

SOMETHING NASTY DROPS IN

After a two-day and fruitless Rhodesian Army anti-terrorist patrol through thick trackless African bush covering difficult terrain between the beautiful Muruvadona Mountains and the wild Zambezi Valley the day before, my doing a spot of guard duty around our company base camp was a very pleasant prospect indeed. After an early breakfast, I suitably positioned my five-man troop around the camp perimeter. For myself, I chose an idyllic shady spot beneath the branches of a young acacia tree, conveniently growing between the rocks of a granite outcrop and overlooking the nearby dried-up Ruya River bed.

Sitting there in the shade, cradling my rifle in one arm, and with my grenades, extra ammunition and full water bottle within grabbing distance, it was all very peaceful indeed. My thoughts went over the amusing events of the previous day when we encountered a large troop of baboons moving in approximately the same direction as ourselves. As we travelled parallel with each other, the alpha male obviously became uneasy with our close proximity and began to issue loud warnings in our direction. Baboons are extremely dangerous animals and should be treated with great respect at all times. Our machine-gunner became somewhat annoyed at being challenged by a baboon, and almost begged for my permission to fire a shot at it. This of course was out of the question, as the resulting noise of a gun being discharged would have been heard for miles around and given away our presence to any terrorist in the area. Thankfully, the matter was settled amicably enough when the baboons eventually decided to change direction and moved away from us.

So there I sat and relished watching various antelopes as they made their delicate way through the lovely African bush. I leaned back against the tree trunk and immediately felt something land with a heavy thud on top of my right thigh. Looking down, I saw to my horror that what had landed on me was a boomslang, one of Africa´s most venomous tree snakes.

Everyone who lives in Africa has been told time and time again to keep quite still in situations such as this. Do not alarm the creature you have come into contact with, we are told. I can assure you that when it actually comes to the crunch, all the good advice goes straight out of one´s mind. When realization set in, I shot up vertically into the air, rather in the style of a Harrier Jump-Jet, while my legs were running before I hit the ground again, and then away I shot at high speed! I eventually returned to my guard post, but was greatly relieved when it was time for someone to take over from me.

Guard duty was never quite the same after that incident. I wonder why?

Rafiki says this ought to make all grandpas feel warm and fuzzy:

VISITING GRANDPA

A six-year-old goes to the hospital with his grandma to visit his grandpa. When they get to the hospital, he runs ahead of his grandma and bursts into his grandpa´s room.

"Grandpa, Grandpa!" he says excitedly, "as soon as Grandma comes into the room, make a noise like a frog!"

"What?" says his grandpa.

"Make a noise like a frog, because Grandma said that as soon as you croak, we´re going to Disneyland!"

Tom Williamson forwards this touching story;

YOU WERE BY MY SIDE!

A woman´s husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day. One day after he came out of the coma, he motioned for her to come nearer.

As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, "You know what?

"You have been with me through all the bad times.

"When I got fired, you were there to support me.

"When my business failed, you were there.

"When I got shot, you were by my side.

"When we lost the house, you stayed right here.

"When my health started failing, you were still by my side.... You know what?"

"What, dear?" she gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.

"I think you´re bad luck."

THIS WEEK´S SUGGESTED SITES

Jean Sterling sends a link to the BBC April Fool´s Day report on penguins:

Nevil Horsfall reports that no mouth-to-mouth is now required in new CPR rules:

Tom Telfer recommends this site for ambitious cooks:

Epicureans, gourmet addicts, restaurant regulars and foodies of all shapes and wallet sizes will want to bookmark this cool site. Todd Wilbur´s website, entitled http://TopSecretRecipes.Com, brings the recipes at your favourite restaurants straight from your computer into your kitchen.

Tom Williamson suggests this site for geography buffs:

Governments agree when people oblige them to agree. - Albert Schweitzer