Not all cooking story ends well, and this one is particularly cruel and sad. if you are not ready for some tears, please don’t read this post.
When I was born, our family lived in a house that was situated in a big court yard behind a temple in Wanchai, Hong Kong. You heard it right, a temple where people actually came and burned incense and worship the idols. Apart from doing different businesses, my father had involved in being something like a Taoist priest or a Buddhist monk (sans the bald head appearance). That's why he was able to strike a deal with the owner of the temple to let our 3-generation family of nine to stay in the big house. Big but not anything grand - I was too young to remember details of the architecture but I do remember we had to put out buckets on strong rainy days. The court yard was heaven to us kids, it must be around the size of one tenth of an acre or so. Small in American standard but huge in Hong Kong - Hong Kong has an area of 426.3 sq. miles and has a population of over 7 million people.
There was a slope at the back of the court yard leading up to a road, many a night our father would get off from the bus and just hopped down from that slope to greet us, he did not bother to use the proper walkway. It was in this bushy slope where he caught a mother rabbit that brought us children joy for many months.
Father had a slight limping on his left foot, he got hurt when the Japanese bombed his hometown in China during world war II. So when I said hopping, he was literally hopping because of his limping. For him to be able to catch the rabbit was because she was too heavy to move fast. Not long after that, she gave birth to seven cuties inside our made shift cage. The four of us, my two older sisters, my #4 brother and I, were totally enchanted to witness the beautiful lives and touch the soft fluffiness. I have a #1 brother but he was put under the charge of a family friend who was supposed to tutor him and gave him a head start in life. Now looking back, none of us liked that arrangement. It took a long time for us to get along when he moved back as a teen and we had many episodes of bad quarrels.
Very soon, our lives were centered around these seven beautiful creatures. We would rush home every day after school to tend to them. We played with them and even had rabbit races. Since I was the youngest, I only got to keep one, and each of them had two.
The four of us became quite famous in the neighborhood because we have “pets”. You see, because of tight spaces and all, having pets are not as common as in America. I still remember one very dramatic chapter when we had to chase after several bullies because they kidnapped one of our baby rabbits, put it in a paper bag and refused to give it back. It was too long ago for me to remember what they had wanted. However, I remember this scene vividly: we rallied quite a big number of the neighborhood kids and chased the bullies all the way to the top of the stairs of our local post office. Our voices were so loud that the officials from the post office came out and queried them. We got our rabbit back and we felt quite heroic and triumphant.
Hong Kong is probably one of the best managed city in the world. The Government, from very early days, had foreseen great influxes of immigrants from China and other regions. These people were actually welcomed as they provided an excellent supply of labor. Instead of allowing folks to stay in made shift huts which could be very hazardous, the Government would build blocks and blocks of high rises to house them.
We were not one of those despondent immigrants but my father thought it would be great if we could also move into one of those very low costs housings instead of suffering the old house that badly needed repair. He pulled some strings and we got fortunate. We were allowed to move in one of those buildings with toilets and drains, etc. slightly before my first grade. Did I forget to mention that we were using well water and no flushing toilets in the temple house?
The evening before our big moving day, we were celebrating with a big feast. A few tables of extended family members and friends were invited. After we got back from school – something was very wrong. Where were the rabbits?
It is suffice to say that all four of us did not eat a single bit of dinner that evening. We were not even allowed to be dismissed from the table. We held up and cried all the while they were enjoying their delicious meals.
I am retelling this story not to point fingers at our parents. I love them very much. They were hard working folks who did their best for the six of us. None of us parents were given any user manuals when we had our kids. For a set of parents who did not even graduated from their elementary schools, we were very fortunate to turn out quite well.
The Asian concept of treating pets and animals are just quite different from the West. Parents in the old days also did not pay much attention to children’s emotional needs. They would actually do something quite tough and strict in order to set an example or teach us a lesson. My parents are passed now and I can retell this story with fond memories of them. I am so glad that I became a Christian before I got married. Although I also have so many flaws, at least I have the Bible as my user manual to raise my kids.
So you know now, if you are cooking that particular type of meat, don’t invite me to dinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment