Chasing Mom down Temple Street.


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It’s a big world out there.  Temple Street, Hong Kong is no doubt part of that big world.  The street is mainly an open air market which runs in the day, but is also known as a night market.  It is a busy street with people bustling around, all talking in a higher pitch than I am used to.  To an outsider’s ear Cantonese is a strange sounding language.  On this day there seemed to be too many people, too many voices and too much heat.  The story I’m about to tell you involves my mother and the people in this street.hong kong woman Post1

Let me start off by describing my mother to you.  She is a small person, just and inch shorter than myself.  She has grey hair, cut in a style very similar to the Chinese women around her seventy plus age group. In fact, it seemed the only difference between my mother and the average Chinese woman her age, was her face; her eyes to be more exact.  I would never have had to make this comparison before, but as you read on you will understand why it is quite relevant to the story.

It was a scorching day in Hong Kong.  We decided that we would brave the heat because there would be no point in being there and not explore a little.  So, we decided to take a casual stroll down Temple Street.

I had never before felt like such an alien in a strange country.  Even though I was told that most of the locals could speak English, I found this to be quite the opposite.  When I enquired about the cost of particular items, I was shown the correct amount on a calculator rather than being told because of the language barrier.  It had come to my attention that many of the items on sale are actually also available at markets in South Africa (my homeland) too.

As we strolled along, stopping here and there to look at things my daughters pointed out, I had suddenly realised that my mother had disappeared out of sight.  I quickly asked the others if they had seen her.  No one could recall when last they had seen her.  We all started frantically searching around the area.  I spotted someone looking quite like her and rushed after her.  As I moved in closer to her, all I found was a stranger with a very perplexed expression looking back at me.

The girls kept up with me.  We were walking very fast trying not to bump people in the slow-moving crowds.  Down the end of the road, I spotted her.  We had to speed up.  Mom walks very fast under normal circumstances so you can imagine her speed was in turbo mode here in this strange place.

Anyway, hearts pounding, we tried our best to make up the distance between her and ourselves, all the while trying to keep an eye on the grey head, which was so easy to confuse with the other pedestrians in the area.
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My heart sank when at the corner a very slim, stern-looking policewoman stopped me.  She told me I that we couldn’t cross the road.  There seemed to be some sort of emergency going on.  I tried to tell her that I have to cross because I would lose my mother in the crowds and I didn’t know any other way to go.

She raised her hand in the air “No, you go that way!” I tried again, but the words which came out of my mouth seemed to be banging on a brick wall before falling to pieces on the ground.  “YOU GO THAT WAY,” she said again pointing in another direction.

Now, there is something you should know about us South Africans, we are tougher than people realise. The stern policewoman was still in front of me, refusing to let us cross.  She looked away for a moment, and that was when we just slipped over to the right of her.  We quickly walked between a police car and another emergency vehicle; the cars shielded us from view.  I kept expecting someone to come up from behind me and grab me by the arm for disobeying the police woman, fortunately nothing like that happened.  The chase started afresh again.Random peeps post3

We eventually caught up with mom.  When I looked in her eyes, she seemed a little off balance or confused.  We got her back to the hotel where she told me that she felt terrible, all she heard were the voices and people muddling in front of her and behind her and she just wanted, needed, to get out of there.  I made a little joke with her telling her that she looked quite a bit like the Chinese women her age, it’s just that her eyes were different.  She laughed and said that it is quite ironic, because when she was a little girl she would tell her little brother and sister that she was adopted, and that her father was actually a Chinese man and her mother a French woman.  Mom is still blessed with that creative imagination.

Anyway, we all decided that we would not go to the market again because everyone seemed a little upset by the whole experience.

I must tell you though that I thoroughly enjoyed my walk down the Temple Street Market that evening, when I slipped out quietly by myself.  I found the sellers at the market to be sweet and gentle people.  After my solo walk, I would recommend the market to anyone who was to visit Hong Kong.

Much obliged.

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The Daily Prompt:

What’s the best (or rather, worst) backhanded compliment you’ve ever received? If you can’t think of any — when’s the last time someone paid you a compliment you didn’t actually deserve?

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Compliments are strange things. It’s the level at which the praise is given that sometimes bothers me, because often there are underlying motives behind the compliment. I think we become more attuned to the levels of sincerity after a while, especially as we get older.

When I was younger I would swallow any compliments I got, but I learnt the hard way that they were not always as sincere as one would think they are.

I don’t want to undermine the sincere compliment though, those are the ones I appreciate from the bottom of my heart.

One compliment that I will never forget was from one of my eldest daughter’s friends. He said. “You rock Ms H, you rock harder than stones!” I was not too sure if that was a good or bad thing. I checked with daughter after her friend had left and apparently it was a good thing. :D

Michelle’s Weekly Pet Challenge. Roundup and start of new week. (51)

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Pet2Thank you for all the gorgeous entries this week.  Here they are:

scrapydodog wrote…
Trompie has a problem with his mum!

Little Binky wrote…
A milestone..congratulations :)

Gail- Moonlight Reflections wrote…
Dakota and Nugget bird-watching and enjoying the sun.

anotherday2paradise wrote…
Here’s my entry, Michelle: Monkey Business

Hope The Happy Hugger wrote…
Fun in the sun.

becca givens wrote…
Happy week everyone full of purrs, woofs and nuzzles!

debooWORKS wrote…
Here’s my entry. Fun contest.

Steve wrote…
Been missing this recently and kind of cheating by reusing a post…

Holley @ Destino wrote…
Rusty

Sydnee Pee and mom wrote…
another fun week:)

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Click on the logo for details:

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A mouth full of fire.

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The Daily Prompt

We’ve all had exchanges where we came up with the perfect reply — ten minutes too late.

Write down one of those, but this time, make sure to sign off with your grand slam (unused) zinger.

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Always, I always never have a good reply and only think of what I could have said at least 10 minutes later, sometimes I think of a reply twenty-four hours later even. I have said before that I am a non-confrontational person. I don’t like arguments and try to avoid them at all costs, but then often they apparently cannot be helped. Also, I don’t like saying hurtful things and will feel bad about what I said for days after, so I would rather not put myself through that.

The boss, on the other hand, is the comeback king extraordinaire. I always, always lose arguments with him, and so does everyone else. He always has a comeback. If I think about it, I reckon my reason for not being a good arguer is because I immediately start defending myself even when I don’t need to – where, if I were more aggressive I might bulldoze my way through an argument.

Anyway, I week or two ago I was having a little tiff with the boss, suddenly, quite out of character; I actually started getting quite angry. I felt as though I had a mouth full of fire, ready to explode – but then you know I had to stop myself because of not wanting to be hurtful.

To my amazement, at that moment, I found the most incredible way to stop the argument without being the loser. You will laugh (because everyone says this in an argument), but in my anger I said to the boss “do you really want to have this argument, because I am ready.” Turns out he was not willing to take me on at that moment.

Now that was a first.