蝴蝶琴是小型的揚琴，托了師傅訂做的，手工精巧，前緣的小暗屜裏藏了兩支琴竹，和一個袖珍調音銅槌。記得爸爸的老友朱伯伯聊起，「你爹去世以後，你們母子家徒四壁，有幾次沒有米下鍋，只好把揚琴送進當鋪，你非常捨不得。」爸爸回答，「是啊，每次都虧你跟家裡要零用錢，借給我贖琴，才能保住！」

我從來沒有見過爺爺，他的形象只能從手邊一張舊照踹度：這張家居隨影，沒有一般照相館拍的那種拘泥嚴肅的架勢：剃了光頭的他，身穿淺色長袍深色馬褂，眉開眼笑，懷抱一個嬰兒，大約個把月，他右掌捏著小手，左掌握住小腳，手勢親暱，這孩子不知是不是幼年的爸爸？

抗戰結束，爸爸大學畢業，生了場大病，復原後，就從福州渡海到台灣療養、覓職，身邊除了一小包衣物書籍，就是這台琴。次年，身為未婚妻的媽媽陪著奶奶去投奔他，不久成了婚。媽媽回憶，「新婚之夜，幾位好友來鬧洞房，起鬨要新郎新娘表演，於是你爸拉二胡，我彈揚琴，表演了二重奏。」這種情景，在我們接二連三出生後，就很少再現，蝴蝶琴裹了條緙絲圍巾，高高放在爸爸書架頂層。

爸爸去世後，媽媽說，「有什麼想帶走的，儘管拿吧。」我就挑選了這台蝴蝶琴，小心翼翼的提上飛機，越洋帶回了洛杉磯。

又過了十多年，一次幫媽媽整理舊物時，她出示了個辭典大小的棗紅木盒，抽開盒蓋，掀開一塊深紫絨布，躺著三冊薄薄的線裝書，內容是文言文和詩詞，還有一行行工工尺尺之類的符號，書頁用縫衣線裝訂成冊，封面自製的，毛筆標簽寫著：「養正軒琵琶譜卷」下款是「友仁題」，這是爸爸的字。

媽媽說：「日軍佔領上海，妳爺爺離開的前夕，把這套他珍藏的書拆散，分裝入幾個信封寄回福州家裡，可能是怕郵寄中如有不測，起碼可以保留部分。」想起爸爸說過，「當年我還是中學生，被召去警局問話，他們檢查來自上海淪陷區的信件，發現這些印了神秘符號的紙頁，懷疑是情報密碼，我再三解釋，說是國樂古譜，總算讓我領回家！」

爺爺抗戰初期，與上海法院的一批同事逃亡後方，中途受到日軍攔截，全體被處決，他終究未能回到家鄉。中日戰爭結束後，民國政府刻了一個紀念碑 「殉職完忠」，後面列出十一位犧牲者的姓名，吳季同就在其中，這塊碑至今仍收藏在金華。

「可以給我嗎？」我問，媽媽點了點頭。我觸摸著泛黃的薄紙，如獲至寶：書冊縫製的針腳稀疏參差，看得出用針線的是生手；封面上貼的仿篆題字，筆觸認真、但顯生怯。我恍惚看到少年的爸爸，在微黃的燈下，小心翼翼的把散頁拼湊成冊，穿針引線，慢慢裝訂，然後研墨潤筆，一勾一劃的寫下書題，署了名，剪貼了做成封面。

爸爸曾一再提過，所有我送給他的禮物，他最中意的，是魯迅那幅對聯，「橫眉冷對千夫指，俯首甘為孺子牛。」爺爺在他心目中，就是這副形象。爸爸自己不也是如此嗎？他對外的形象是耿直不阿，不奉迎，不畏權勢，在孫輩面前，他又是個活趣生鮮，會變魔術、教下棋、愛講笑話的酷外公；孩子小時候，我帶他們回台北探親，爸爸就喜孜孜的帶他們上遊樂園划船、開碰碰車、逛動物園，孩子走不動了，就一把扛上肩背著走。

爸爸雖然是物理教授，他畢生酷愛音樂，曾自學多種樂器：大、小提琴、橫笛、琵琶、鋼琴都有兩手，但特別偏愛二胡。夜深人靜時，家裡經常琴聲裊繞，無論是出於唱片還是他的手指、國樂還是西樂，都能讓我感受到一種祥和安寧。我們小時候，爸爸鼓勵我們每個人學一種樂器，特別請了老師，我和二弟彈鋼琴，妹妹和大弟拉小提琴；我們練琴時，他常坐在書房裏，半開著門，顯然在聽，即使我們手下敲釘拉鋸般生硬，也極少出聲批評。遇到節慶生日，如果我們願意湊在一起合奏一曲，他就眉眼舒展，點頭微笑，好像無比享受。他說過，「讓你們學樂器，沒有期望什麼，只希望音樂能成為你們內在生活的一部分。」就這樣，雖然我的鋼琴技法從未超越過初級程度，但這一生，音樂一再為我帶來喜悅和激勵，也提供過無比的撫慰，我的弟妹們跟音樂也都結下了不解之緣。

我雖然沒學會彈蝴蝶琴，也讀不懂刀尺譜，但觸摸著爺爺的這些物件，好像擁有了他通過爸爸傳下來的精神遺產，也代表爸爸無價的贈禮，心中就浮現著一種莫名的滿足。

南屏村位於安徽黟縣城西南4公里處，距離婺源不遠。是一座有千年歷史，相當規模，卻又少為人知的古村落。遊人不多, 更少了商業氣息。

村南有一座形如屏障的南屏山。卻不知是村因山而得名，還是山因村而取名。村莊外圍都是農田, 大約要在田間小路上走十多分鐘才算進入村子。

最先要面對的是拐彎抹腳, 縱衡交錯的72條巷弄, 外人一不留神就會迷失了方向，所以南屏村也被人起了個名字，叫「迷宮村」。 

全村人口不多, 卻有著300多座明清古建築。 蜿蜒的小溪, 蕭瑟的垂柳, 古老的石橋, 紅色的燈籠，綠色的苔蘚，狹窄的巷弄,  斑駁的牆壁, 曲折的小徑, 灰石的台階，大小的祠堂, 古舊的木門, 走在其間, 就像是在桃源深處憑弔古人曾經的風采.

請點擊此處欣賞南屏村古樸的人文風景

和大我十歲的姊重新見面，著實太興奮了！從我嬰孩時期，她就是我的「紅膏藥」。她到哪裡，我就黏到哪裡。記得每次過年過節時，我最盼望她從台北的工作地點回到家了。而她最高興的事就是幫我打扮，從頭上的紅緞帶髮夾，胸前的白琉璃魚胸針、花花綠綠的小洋裝、到白襪紅鞋，無不一一親自為我點綴。然後興高采烈地牽著我的手到處去獻寶。從我記憶起，她不知有多少次被誤認為是我媽媽。

我母親43歲、父親55歲才生了我這老幺。小時因為家裡貧窮，再加上媽媽一共生了十胎小孩，有的夭折、有的迫不得已送給有愛心無子女的夫婦扶養。我小時因為太愛哭，母親有意把我送給鄰居撫育。當時大我八歲的五哥迫不及待地跑到學校告訴我姊，我老姊馬上飛奔回家，把我偷偷抱到外面藏起來。我就這樣幸運地被留下來了。我姊對我說這個故事一百遍都不只，我永生不忘姊的恩典。

初高中寒暑假，我都到台北住我姊家。姊會每天帶我到她服務的大機構，把我丟在圖書館裡。我就在此猛看世界名著，培養了我對文學的愛好。高中時，她還託了一位上校，在中午時和我談了一個小時的英語對話，做了我後來上靜宜文理學院主修英文的基礎。高三時，她同事唸北一女的妹妹首次帶我到教堂。愛音樂的我，馬上被詩歌的優美及寧靜感震撼住了。上了整個夏天的週日禮拜，我就受洗成為基督徒。這個決定培養我了我終身靈性上的生活。

我從蘭陽女中高中部畢業後，考上了靜宜學院的外文系。雖說這是我夢寐以求的大學生活，但因父母早逝，這個私立學校的學費及住宿費不貲。我姊聯合幾個哥哥商議把老家的房子租出兩間房，好讓我唸完四年的大學。從靜宜畢業後，我雄心勃勃地想一人到美國去闖。我申請到一所芝加哥的大學，也是姊給我建議和遊說四個哥哥幫忙我籌備第一學期的學費，好讓我初來乍到一個陌生地，有個喘氣的機會。

正如眾所皆知，留學生的孤獨、寂寞、勞累、及苦悶的生活，大家應當都身歷其境地嘗過。兩年半我結婚後的移民小家庭之辛苦奮鬥，不言而諭，你我也皆知。那些年我所有的牢騷和委屈也用長信全訴諸一輩子待我有如母親的長姊，她幫我度過了無數的難關。

這次返台，我和老姊再次地重溫九年前我們一同踩四輪車的愉悅 (請看視屏) 。我們每次見面，必暢談不止，笑聲不斷。回洛杉磯後，我看了這段兩老姊妹花又興奮、又快樂的踩車視屏接近30遍，每次都把自己笑得合不攏嘴，心中充滿了極度溫馨的感覺。將來還有多少機會能經歷到如此親密揪心的體驗呢？多麼珍貴的回憶啊！

請點擊此處觀賞 2024 Silda & Sister.MOV 

中国各地正在举行春节庆祝活动，烟花四起，人们正在登上火车回家，家人聚在一起打扫家园，龙年庆祝活动快到了。

你可能已经读过很多中国文化大革命的故事，许多故事令人心碎，许多人吃了苦。

很少有故事包含外国人，我知道一个故事，想跟你分享。

有个在北京大学的老外学生被他的同学邀请去桂林过春节。这位老外搭乘了一趟南行的火车，加入了挤在车上的中国人群，试图回同学家过年。

当这个老外抵达桂林时，拜访了他同学的家。认识了同学的父亲、母亲和爷爷，一起喝茶，聊天。

老外听到了，爷爷是抗日战争时期的一名飞行员：他曾在美国接受飞虎队的训练，他在与日本人的长期战斗中流血.。

在文化大革命期间，爷爷被派到农村去劳动改造，家庭受到了十年的苦难。

同学以为把新老外朋友介绍给家人会给他们带来喜悦和幸福，但结果却唤起了痛苦的回忆，以及对引发新麻烦的恐惧。

同学很难过地告诉他的外国朋友，“你不能跟我家人一起过春节，对不起。”

这位老外理解，并且不想给他的朋友或家人带来任何麻烦。

那年冬天，桂林很冷，而且当时江南还没有暖气。 整整一周，烟花在街上白天和黑夜里不断爆炸。老外想到：独自过年是很悲伤和寒冷的。

为什么我知道这个故事的呢？因为那个老外就是我。

11/25/2023   婺源  徽州古村燈籠柿之鄉 安徽歙縣上豐鄉姬公尖

姬公尖（姬川村）是一座隱藏在深山尚未被人所熟知的小山村，以盛產一種形狀類似燈籠的柿子而聞名。每年秋天，家家戶戶的房前屋後和坡地上到處是掛著黃澄澄果實的柿子樹。到了深秋時節，天氣已經偏涼但還未冷，太陽仍有著飽滿的氣息。鄉民們將採摘下來的柿子削皮洗淨，用繩子串在一起，在漫山遍野的樹枝上高掛，在房前屋後的支架上晾曬。燈籠柿黃澄澄、紅彤彤一片，成串掛在自家院中，如一串串在白晝時分依然閃著燈火的小燈籠，“燈籠柿”也由此得名。

請點擊此處欣賞姬公尖美麗的風景

11/26/2023  婺源   晨景，傘場，紙傘製作，甲路小村

油紙傘在現代匆忙的城市生活中已經不多見了。似乎已經成為了一種裝飾品.只是提起油紙傘的時候,腦海中總會浮現一幅水墨畫；在落著細雨的拱橋上，穿著飄逸古裝的女子,撐著油紙傘，由遠而近，由近而遠。留下的是美麗而令人綢帳背影。

傳統油紙傘製作工藝還蠻複雜的，削傘骨、鋸葫蘆、組合傘架、煮曬傘架、裝傘鍵、裱皮紙、傘面題畫、修卷傘頁、漆桐油、穿飾線、套柄錘和結傘頂等，有近30道工序，每個環節相扣。由於大量的工序離不開雙手，至今仍難以進行機械化生產。而位於由甲路古村的傘場就成了一個傳統油紙傘傳教與生產基地。

請點擊此處觀賞   晨景，傘場，紙傘製作，甲路小村

11/26/2023 婺源   姚家村, 打𫃎糬, 竹編, 夜

好山好水好村落。 姚家村並不是個很出名的旅遊景點。 也是因為這個原因，少了很多商業的氣氛，也讓我們有機會參加了村裡打𫃎糬的風俗慶典。 村裡新的建築比較少,所以斑駁的牆壁和未加修飾的巷道，充滿了古樸的味道。

回程還參觀了傳統竹編工藝. 材料處理就是把竹子加工成篾（ㄇㄧㄝˋ）子，然後用蔑刀剖成勻稱的細條，再刮光。

婺源的夜景僅僅包括了旅館前面，小小一段橋面上的夜間景緻，還不能代表繞著婺源沿河的夜間美景。

請點擊此處觀賞 姚家村, 打𫃎糬, 竹編, 夜

长我10岁的大姐，在台北读大学时，是品学兼优的校花。接人待物，亲切有礼。登门好逑者众，包括一两位他系年轻讲师。来者无不上座，以茶相待。每有男士相邀外出，常携我同行。西门町看电影，热天逛街吃冰，冷天喝红豆汤，淡水河泛舟，电影后“葡国鸡饭”晚餐。我没有电灯泡的概念，只觉得何乐而不为？

好逑者众，也麻烦。1950年代，没有电话。有天，三位王姓男士，不约，而同时造访，客厅里场面很尴尬。大姐坐不住，跑到后面，对我们抱怨：“三个王八蛋”。

也不是每位男士相邀，大姐都带我同行。记得大姐赞赏一位美男子，与他外出就从不带我。与隻身来台，工读过日的男士外出，不带我。与后来做姐夫的男友外出，也没带过我。所以那些必需忍受这个电灯泡在场的男士们，值得同情。现在看来，带个电灯泡出行，也是不愿拒人千里的大姐，给那些男士的一个讯号。时隔多年，那些好逑者也各自有不同的事业与家庭。我父亲去世后，有几位过去的好逑者，隻身在台，常来看望母亲，也变成我的朋友。

这一套大姐的Dating Game，由于多次亲临现场，我早已烂熟于心。光阴似箭，弹指10年，西门町还是西门町，没大改变，自己在大学时交女友，也如法炮制。好在女友都没讨厌的幼弟做电灯泡。西门町全版：逛街/吃冰或喝红豆汤/泛舟/电影/葡国鸡饭，輪番使用。最后一次葡国鸡饭，饭毕付账，刚起身要走，跑堂就来收桌子，当我们面，用我们的餐巾和剩茶擦桌子。原来，给我们如小毛巾的餐巾，都是抹布。真恶心！

幼弟之妙，还不止于做电灯泡。早在民国37年(1948年)底，我6岁，全家离开南京，去台湾前，在上海住了两个多月。我的同族大哥，已大学毕业，认为我才刚开始的学业不能中断，把我注册于附近一个学店。没有操场，全校就是座有一天井的两层楼建筑。校长-师生-工友，只讲上海话，我是不会讲也听不懂。同班小朋友，不是大眼/小眼看我这异物，就是视我而不见。老师都是女性，个个都是晚娘脸孔，每位配有一块巴掌大的竹戒尺，上课时，在讲桌上敲得价响，震慑学生。

唯一例外，是位天使般的年轻女老师。教音乐，说国语，从来不碰戒尺，对学生讲话，和蔼可亲。说也奇怪，她课上，没有晚娘脸孔，没有戒尺镇压，学生一样很乖。

后来才知道，她才是送我来这学店的真正目的。一年后，石老师，天使般的江南美女，来台湾，嫁了个北方漢子，变成了我的大嫂。大哥大嫂，伉俪情深一辈子。我父亲早逝，长兄长嫂如父母，给我不少安全感。他们在台北，一直住在温州街的大学教员宿舍，平房，有自己院落。那里是我的根，每次回台，总在附近旅社下榻，以便朝夕与他们相处。大哥大嫂，一直到九十余高龄，才相继去世。

（耄耋老人回首）

林安泰古厝，是位於臺灣臺北市中山區濱江公園的一座中國傳統式的四合院。建於清乾隆48年(西元1783年)，迄今已超過二百年歷史。是台北市現有保存最完整的閩式建築。原址坐落於台北市四維路上，於民國67年遷建於台北市中山區濱江街現址。

第一眼見到林安泰古厝的時候，竟然有著似曾相識的感覺。見到園林和建築被盡心的保存與呵護，當時有了同人不同命的感嘆。而這份感嘆，卻在之後的時空錯亂之下，被顛覆了。

如果覺得困惑不解，那就請點擊下面的鏈接。

「井仔腳瓦盤鹽田」是臺南北門的第一座鹽田。於1818年遷此，是現存最古老的瓦盤鹽田遺址。清一色為瓦盤鹽田，一池連一池。後因人工成本過高，於2002年結束了長達338年的曬鹽業。最後為延續鹽業文化而將鹽場復育，成為台南濱海最具特色的景點。

在這裡可以體驗鹽民曬鹽、挑鹽、收鹽的辛苦。而夕陽晚霞映照在瓦盤鹽田上的倒影，更讓每個人沉醉其間。

如果享受神遊萬里之外，那就不妨點擊下面的鏈接。

San Fernando Valley 

We waited for the rain this year since March so that we could have our cars washed. It sprinkled only twice. Imagine the dust on everything, from cars to tree leaves to weeds. We thought we should go somewhere before the Santa Ana whipped up all that dust in the air.

But being cooped up in our armchairs for so long, our legs were getting lazy. Even going up and down the stairs was a chore. So we joined a country club where the dining room, lounge and library would all ravel with us and the scene of the change of season would show up in the big picture window in our private cabin.  Best of all, we would be free of sales and crank calls for two weeks! 

The plane was full to cramped legroom. I could not but wonder how would a 200-lb 6-ft person fit into these seats? Without noticing the day changing into night, we went through a long 16-hour flights-and-stops and boarded the MV River Aria that was docked on the bank of Pest side of the Danube looking at Buda.

At dinner that night. I could not take my eyes off Martha when she talked. She had all her feelings on her face. Her brother had a smiling face of the elves working in Santa Claus’ toy factory. He was quiet and let his sister do all the talking. Only after a few glasses of wine did he loosen up and poured out his horror experience of the Vietnam war which he had kept inside him all these years. We made our first friends on board. From then on, we met new friends every night at different dining tables.

Jó reggelt kívánok, Budapest! 

“So!” Monica, the guide from Romania for the Red Group, greeted us through the microphone on the bus. “This morning we are going to have a local resident lead you on a city tour. Okidoki?”

“So!” the local guide started her guide with the same greeting. “You will notice that all the buildings in the old city are of the Baroque period, and the horses mounted by the important figures of our nation are of the same height of those throughout Europe. In reality the Hungarian horses were much shorter. They were Asian horses.

“Today, two third of Hungary’s population either live or work in Budapest. Life under Communism was harsh. To buy a car, for example, people could wait for a year. When your number was up, you would be told that there was no car available. Nevertheless, among all countries under this system, Hungary was the most affluent and free. We had a Trinity Rule: free Education, free Medical Care and free Border Control. It has been followed till this day. You would think that people from the other countries would try to come live here. But statistic shows that the country’s population has gone from 10 million a decade ago down to 9 million today. I doubt three years from now this government will still be in power.”

Back on the River Aria, we also had a Trinity Rule: free drinks, wine and soda, free room service, and free meals served three times a day by bow-tie waiters with smiles in different European accents. Our population also went down from 135 to 134. One passenger was put ashore for biting the finger of another passenger. The witnesses were divided in placing the guilt. As for this ship’s future, three weeks from now, she won’t be sailing on the Danube. She would be heading south with the seasonal birds.

Dóbro útro, Bratislava! 

“So! This city used to be ruled by Hungary,” on Day 4, the local Slovakian tour guide told us. Then she gave us a synopsis of the history following the rule of the Hungarians. “In… and in…. then in…. All right? It is now the capital of Slovakia. The population is made up of three major racial groups, Slavic, Hungarian and Roma. By the way, the word Gypsy is considered politically incorrect nowadays. There used to be a large Jewish population here. During WWII, they were all taken to the Nazi concentration camps. After the war, only a few returned. This building is… that building was…. The story goes like this…” There was a story for every building. 

At every turn there was a statue, from nobility on horse to little boy peeing, and, always, there was a folk gossip associated with it that one could not find on Google. “Maria Theresa fell in love with this guy… This statue is…. This man was assassinated by…. That statue there is….”

Then we came to a square. The tour guide said, “There is a WC in the basement of this building.” We got the hint that the tour had ended. “The entry charge is half a Euro. To return to the ship, walk this way… Remember, lunch back on the ship is at 12:30.” 

We did not have Euro. So Daniel paid for us.  

Guten Morgen, Vienna! 

Day 9, November 24, 2003

How could we have endured this cold in an unheated VW bus? We had been on the road for five months. When we got here, the cash we carried on us had run out. It was late Friday afternoon Oct. 31, 1978. The Merrill Lynch office was already closed. We had to wait until Monday to withdraw some money. Luckily we had stocked up enough grocery. We found a spot that had no time limit posted. Temperature was dropping, inside the car was as cold as outside. So we went to explore the old city on foot. We cannot remember how many times we had walked up and down Helden Plaz. Our old beaten ski jackets and Oriental faces stood awkwardly out among the nicely dressed European ladies and gentlemen in fitted spinach-green colored overcoats. 

Forty-five years was a long time ago. There were no tourists but the three of us. 

“This building is…,” the local tour guide pointed to one of the many buildings surrounding us. They were all shaped in cubic block and all had the same stony look, some real some plastered. There were more statues and horses than in Budapest. All the pretty women and masculine men on the ledges of the buildings and standing by the columns were naked. It was cold, How could they stand it? 

“That statue was… That building with its upper part painted in pink used to be… During the 19th Century… His mistress was… She had sixteen children…. He had over 40 children… She committed suicide… He shot… His son died of tuberculosis… She married her cousin…Habsburg... See that window in the orange-colored building? That was… This man on the horse was…That…” 

In two hours, we walked through half of the old Vienna city and learned all the historical gossips about the nobilities in those days. It sounded like they were all related to each other by DNA. 

Unlike the West Lake that embroidered Hangzhou and the mist that veiled the mystic Huang Mountain, how could these blocks of buildings and cobblestones have inspired such beautiful music? Was Cubism started here?  

Guten Morgen, Linz!

Day 11 (November 26, 2023)

It was a gloomy day. A day we had not expected to see on our peace-seeking, cruise. There was nothing to see in Linz. 

Most people had heard of the massacre of the Jews during WWII, but few had seen the places where it was carried out other than in Schindler’s List and Diary of Ann Frank. There was one near Linz. So, we braved the cold, rain and wind, and headed out for Mauthausen Concentration Camp.

From far away, it looked like a military fortress or a medieval castle, standing eerily alone on a hilltop. It rather looked like the Psycho House. At close up, it looked cold and barren. The guide, Marcus, met us at the foot of the hill. As we walked up the slippery climb in rain and sleets, we dropped out of the sight of our Group. Daniel noticed it and came back to walk with us. Thanks for the modern invention of intercom, we could still hear Marcus’s voice coming through the receiver plugged in our ears.

“Imagine, the average body weight of the prisons was 65 lbs. They were forced to carry stones weighing one hundred pounds up this hill. There were no roads then. They had to climb up that narrow steep valley. If one fell, a domino effect would bring down all those below him. The wounded would be left there to die and rot.” 

We could feel their pain in our wobbling legs. We hastened to catch up in order not to be… 

The guide went on, “This was the first and largest concentration camp in Austria to carry out the Genocide of the Jewish people. Functionally it was a forced labor camp. Sometimes the SS would shoot the prisoners for no reason at all.” 

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of forced labor?” Daniel asked. 

“The SS didn’t care, “ said the guide. “They were not human.”

We finally reached the gate.

“This is a memorial put up by some 40 nations to commemorate their nationals killed here. This camp had taken in 19,000 prisoners, mostly captured Russian soldiers. The rest was consisted of Jews, nationals of 40 other countries and Roma. The prisoners were forced to build this camp and worked in weaponry factories. Some of them were rented out to work in private industries.” 

Inside the camp it looked like a typical army camp. There were two rows of barracks facing each other, one row of dormitories and, in the other row, there were a warehouse, a kitchen and a hospital. The area between the two rows was designated as "the roll call square".  

We were led into one of the dormitories. There were two separate rooms, a toilet and a washroom. The next room was sleeping quarters. It was bare. It had a raised wooden floor and glass-paned windows. Through the windows I could see a cemetery with tombstones. 

“When there were prisoners, this room was filled with bunk beds with straw mattresses,” the guide said. “There was a small heating stove barely enough to heat up the room. It was so cold that some internees would sleep on top of their dead fellow-bedmates, some would urinate and defecate on their mattresses. Food was brought here from the kitchen. It was watery vegetables, sometimes with a little meat.” 

It reminded us of Auschwitz where we visited 30 years ago with Reno and Iris. Auschwitz looked exactly the same, only larger. There we saw the bunk beds, the straw mattresses and the potbelly stove mentioned by Marcus. I knew the feeling. Our boarding school in China during the war looked similar. Only instead of the wooden floor, we had dirt floor; instead of glass on windows, we had paper-pane. No stove. The winter wind crept right through the cracks. Our daily ration was 20 lama beans per person. We did not even know how meat smelled, let alone how it tasted. Difference was we had a purpose of life, to resist the invaders. I guess, our Chinese dictionary also had a different definition for life.

The hospital now served as an exhibition hall. At the foyer, there were display windows exhibiting old pictures of the camp, Nazi officers, prisoners, IDs with ages and professions and ingots of gold extracted from their teeth. There were neatly handwritten lists of prisoners and of those gassed, We were let through rooms for those whose numbers were called up to undress, to be gassed or to be executed by shooting. 

In the last two rooms there was a steel box of the size of half a cargo container in each of them. “This is the crematory,” the guide said. “Out of a total of 19,000 internees processed throughout the war, the Nazi killed half of them.”

We couldn’t take it any longer. We came out of the hospital to the sleet-swept roll call square. We could see why the Nazi would do such thing to the Russian soldiers. They had shot at them on the front. But what did the Gypsies and the Jews did to them so that they had to do such inhumane thing? We could not but think of the 15,000 innocent Palestinians, mostly women and children, who had been killed in Gaza during the past 50 days, not 5 years, by bombs made in America, with our tax money. What have they done? We wondered how many of those, who were dropping the bombs, were sons and grandsons of the survivors of this camp. Genocide repeated? We were confused.

It started to snow. We found ourselves alone in this desolated place. We were lost. Then we saw a person in bright yellow raincoat walking toward us.

“Are you alright, Vera?” 

It was Ron. He offered his arm for Vera to lean on as we wobbled together down the slope back to the bus.

Cesky Krumlov 

This little town brought us back to humanity. To us, it was the most beautiful and peaceful place on earth. There was no sign of violence, just gossips of town told by our guide. We had visited this town before when we drove through Czech Republic in 2009 with Kwang-nan and Marguerite.

“This is the best restaurant I consider for Czeck cuisine,” the local guide pointed out for us. Thinking of trying the authentic Czeck cuisine, we did not pay much attention to the gossips of town the guide continued to tell.

Dobré ráno, Praha! 

We disembarked the River Aria after sailing on the Danube for 10 days and moved into a hotel. The front desk gave us the wrong key. When I brought it back to the desk, the clerk looked annoyed. “The last digit is 1, not 7," he told me. How would they write 7 then? 

Next morning, we found the whole city beautifully covered with fresh snow. We sat with Walter and Karen at breakfast. 

“Look at my eyes,” Walter said to me. “What do you see?”

“Green eyes.”

“Do you see anything else?”

“No.”

“Do they look Chinese?”

“Eh…”

“My grandmother was Eskimo. She told me her ancestors came from China by walking through the Aleutian Islands.” 

Strange, the local guide for our city tour did not mention anything about their two celebrated composers, Dvorak and Smetana. Instead, she said, “Prague is a Mozart city. Don Giovanni was premiered here in Prague. Since there was no opera house, it was premiered in this play house.” 

For the rest of the tour, she went into the gossips of Praha, “This was the Rosenberg house… lover of Maria Theresa…Then Eisenberg took… and the Habsburgs…” Wherever we went, we never seemed to be able to get out of hearing that name, Habsburg.

It was Day 13. Our legs were dragging slower and slower during the city tour. If Daniel had not stayed behind to accompany us, we could have gotten lost in the Mozart city. Since Vera had to dig through layers of clothes to reach her purse, Daniel paid for all our WC.

Day 14, Nov. 30, 2023

We got up at 3am to catch our flight.

End of the tour. 

Ahoj, Praha! 

兩年前疫情剛起，官員們在驚恐之餘竟然把登山步道也封鎖了，後來慢慢地開放，或者設立單行道，最終才體認到野外的空氣不但清新安全，而且到大自然踏青對被疫情所困的人們來講是一個加強體能以抗疫的工具！我們「雙谷登山隊」的人數乃直線上升超過五十人大關，但這倒也呈現了不少問題。其一，即使在野外，防疫的守則仍然須要遵守，除了戴口罩之外，保持距離也是大家已經習慣的作風，所以大隊只好分成兩個小隊，間隔半小時出發，也才不致於一個隊伍延绵蜿蜒，蔚為奇觀！其二是停車位的不足，使得好幾個受歡迎的山徑不再能使用了，因為現在已經不比當年只需要二十幾個人的停車空間了！

度過艱難的三年，這場世紀之亂的疫情終於結束了，它所帶來的轉變與啟示永久改變了社會的固有生活模式，其中一個最顯著的代表就是拉近了人與大自然的距離，原野從來沒有這麼翠綠，大地也沒有如此芬香，安詳的徜徉在山林的懷抱不就是刼後餘生的幸福樣貌嗎！

月前，大夫就慎重交代全套開刀前准备工作，程序颇似古代君王祭天前过程，极具儀式感：手術前夕，齋戒，淋浴淨身，然后以藥用香巾全身過香。更衣。子夜不食。睡前要換干净床單被褥枕頭套。保持平靜心情入睡。

推進宽闊的开刀房，幾乎睜不開眼，大間內燈光炫目，人聲鼎沸。來回走動的藍衣人群裡，似乎看到我的主刀大夫。高牆四壁掛滿大型儀表和電視，數據不停閃爍變換。大戰即將爆發？

不说是個小手術嗎？怎麼會有這麼大陣狀？本已平靜的心情，突然緊蹦。

与我牵手53年，妻一生挨刀經驗豐富，足以出书。時到今日，才對她在手術室內的感受，有初步了解。

妻婚前割盲肠。巴黎留学兩年，嗜法國美食，造就了人生中體態最豐滿時期。對東方的胃，在西方多脂/多膽固醇的後果，是來美婚後一年內開膽取石。當時為大手術，腹腔開一大口，住院七天，同室病友成了終身閨蜜。

一子一女，均破腹生产，不是Bikini Cut，小腹腔又是一大口子。晚年某情人節，曾住院，自後背置入体内支架，修整脊椎。最后一次挨刀，是同年耶誕前住院，微創手術，从鼻孔內深處，进入脑后切除脑下垂体附近小瘤，體外沒有傷痕，復原快。

自己一輩子，小毛病一堆，還沒有什么大问题，糊塗免不了。至今耳尚聪，目尚明，齒尚全，頭未禿。看电视/电影，熟路驾车均不需眼镜，不需助听器，嗜食排骨。退休前开始在郊区登山，至今乐此不疲。每周二约数好友，山林走一回，午饭后方回，不亦乐乎。

近兩年，右膝开始疼痛，與時俱增。吃藥/注射/針灸，都不管用。即便如此，不願放棄目前生活中最大樂趣：登山。

應對方法：登山前一晚，服兩顆阿斯匹靈；登山當天早飯時，再服兩顆。麻木膝盖！

“你应该做“换半膝”手术(partial knee replacement)，”大夫建议。大夫也喜歡郊外登山，與我路線相仿。自己換過膝，效果好。又说：“术后可相约在山道上见面。”

好了！不用再考慮了！

麻醉师率先發難。现在麻醉，不經口鼻，不打點滴。坐在床上，下脊椎左右各注射一小針，稍有疼痛，不久就人事不知。醒来后，发现已遠離戰場，身處清净小通间，手术不知何时早已完畢。膝蓋從上到下，貼了一條長膠布，看不到傷口。

三小時後，已可以下床走路，不过: ”头两周，应尽量少走路”。領了一大袋藥物，回家休養。明天开始居家理疗。 

理疗长短，因人而異，总之登山之乐可期。手术后前两週，右膝到脚踝，轻微疼痛，上下游走。第三週没有食欲，茶飯入口，如同嚼蠟，不知与手术有何关系。第四周食欲似乎有所恢复，右腿疼痛感全消，可以正常行走，能在附近短距離開車。看来是个成功的手术。

每聽到這首童歌，我眼前呈現的，是數十年前，台北近郊山上的那一幕。

那個風箏，是細竹為骨架、糊了薄絹、畫著黑色羽翼的紙鳶，大約一英尺長寬，最傳統的那種，是在西安逛街，我從小舖裡找到的，靈機一動，決定帶給爸爸。

那是1980年代初，我常去內地出差，返回洛杉磯途中，總會繞道台北，探訪父母。

我把風箏遞給爸爸時，他有點訝異，沈吟了一會兒，站起身來說， 「爬山時間到了，跟我放風箏去！」

爸媽退休後，搬到了新店郊區山腳下的「怡園社區」，遠離城市的喧囂污染，社區有條彎彎曲曲的柏油路可以上山，路邊相思林和修竹夾道，樹幹下長滿蕨類植物、月桃花和各種無名的野花，三五茶園和菜圃穿插其間，隱隱約約透出幾棟農舍或別墅。每天清晨，幾輛機車載蔬果下山前往市場，此外車輛稀少，這裡就成了附近居民的登山步道。

兩老很快就養成了每天爬山的習慣： 媽媽是清晨跟三兩鄰居結伴而行，到半山腰找塊平地，一起做氣功。爸爸則偏好每天午休以後，夕陽西斜時，趁著山風習習，獨自一人疾步上山，到山頂土地廟前的空地，打幾招太極拳，再慢慢逛回家。從他們轉為紅潤的氣色和穩健的腳步看來，「搬來郊區，起碼多活十年。」 這個說法，一點也不誇張。

這天下午，爸爸疾步走在前面，上坡路相當陡峭，沒多久我就氣喘吁吁，他卻如履平地，健步如飛，不時側側頭，嗅一嗅空氣，看來是在測風向。拐了幾彎，到了半山一小彎平地，略為開闊，野草像被人踏平了，頭頂上也沒有交錯的枝椏樹幹，這時山腰上浮動的霧氣也散了，露出一角碧藍。

「就這裡！」爸爸一手舉著一卷棉線，一手撚著紙鳶的尾端，一面放線，一面開始跨步，從小跑然後開始奔了起來。抬著頭，盯著紙鳶，風箏一會兒就被風揚起，開始上升了。

他咧著嘴，從呵呵笑，到大聲呼叫，「嘿，喝！」  陽光反射在眼鏡上，閃閃發亮。那一瞬間，七十多歲的老爸爸變成了個少年。

山腰裡的風乍起乍落，不多時他就得收線了。我們慢慢往回走。爸爸掏出手帕，抹著額頭上的汗水，開始有一句沒一句的聊起爺爺的往事。

爺爺和奶奶有兩男兩女，爸爸的兩個姊姊都夭折了，哥哥大學時染肺病而逝，最小的爸爸成了唯一存活的獨子。他十二歲那年，爺爺去上海覓職，爸爸和奶奶留在老家，臨別依依，他們再也未能重聚。

幾年後，中日戰火燃起，上海淪陷，爺爺雖然逃離上海，但半途在金華附近被捕，他和偕行的同事們當場被處決。幾個月後，才有熟人把他的一小包衣物帶回給奶奶。

爸爸的語氣雲淡風輕，想來不願讓我感染到他長年胸中的陰霾。

繞過路邊的茶園就要到家了，爸爸緩緩的說，「我小時候，總喜歡坐在門檻上，等我爹回家。他常把我舉上肩膀騎馬，又讓我從他口袋裡掏出藏著的點心，或者毽子、小車什麼的玩意兒...」他深深的吸了口氣，「有一次他給我一個紙鳶，就像這樣的。」

故居

福州市東大路是我的生長的地方。東大路前身是旗下街，旗下街路名的來源，是當年旗人逃難於福州聚居之所。我出生北京，六歲時舉家返回福州祖籍時，第一站就住在旗下街。這是九十年前的事了！

家父是法院推事，家𥚃兄弟姊妹眾多，很窮，常常拖欠電費，屢遭停電。小時候家裡需要錢，常常讓我跑當鋪。我人矮，每次都得踮著腳，聽櫃檯內伙計問話，「死當， 還是活當？」

羅曼史

1940年我考進郵局當郵務佐，比送信的郵差高一級，類似坐在櫃檯賣郵票的職務。報到後不久有一天，家父的朋友受人委託來提親，說某鄉親想將他的女兒嫁給我，並陪嫁多少畝農田，如果當時答應，便成了地主，三反五反時，肯定會拉去遊街示眾。老頭子躱過一劫！

我年輕時調皮浪漫，在認識老伴前，曾經追求過幾位小姐，其中一位，在倉前山一間教會醫院作護士，我愛寫情書，寫了好多封，都沒有下文，有一天郵局的局長呌住我，手上拿了一束我寫給那位小姐的情書，要我不要再騷擾她。事後聽說這位局長比誰都風流浪漫。

我為了追求老伴，故意裝病住院：那時她是協和醫院的護士，我假裝發高燒，每次檢查前，就先把體溫計放入熱水杯𥚃，藉此認識，進一步積極追求， 終於成功。

差點被槍斃

這不是嚇人的標題，是一則真實的往事：1945年我隻身隨軍郵由福州前往台灣，投靠過去福建郵局一位舊同事，謀得基隆市政府的民政科科員職位。那年頭台灣才光復，要從日本街道的XX町，更名為中國傳統的XX 路。這屬於民政科的工作，市長交給科長，科長交給我草擬，必須按照市長定下的原則：路名以忠孝仁愛信義和平的八德開頭，後面加上數字，因此有忠一路，義三路等。

那時候我年少、才疏學淺，不知道八路是共產黨軍隊的代號，基隆市愛開頭的有九條街，第八條街自然是「愛八路」了，那時候各級不知道有意或是無意，沒有發覺不對，層層往上報。終於有一天省政府下令調查，在白色恐怖瀰漫的年代，如果查到我是原始草擬人，說不定拉去刑場槍決。哈哈，僥倖逃過了一刧！

創辦攝影新聞

我從基隆民政科轉到台北的水泥公司做文書工作，待遇不錯，但我對攝影一直有很濃厚的興趣，就開始參加講習班， 師從國際知名藝術攝影家郎靜山學習，並參加一些攝影學會的活動。1952年參加台灣救國團主辦橫貫中央山脈活動，翻越高山峻嶺，自西到東，拍了不少照片，一張這次所拍的風景照片，參加舊金山國際攝影大賽，幸運地得到風景組的第二獎。

那時我還一心想辦報，可是台灣實施戒嚴令，頒發各種禁令， 限制出國、裝電話等等，那時的報禁一直延續到1988年。我引用當時出版法的漏洞：「通訊社的文稿圖片，可以機械方式發行。」1955年透過些關係，申請到一張新聞攝影社執照，1956年，成立了《攝影新聞》。因為沒有競爭，開始時業務很好。

多年後台灣攝影記者楊永智出版了《他們是歷史的目擊者》一書，對《攝影新聞》做了以下的報導：

陳蘆隱， 台灣傳播史上空前絕後獨立創辦私人圖片通訊社及攝影新聞報

非常喜歡新聞工作的陳蘆隱...1956年創辦了每天出報的《攝影新聞》。 當時攝影記者除了他之外，還有傅資生（在823砲戰中殉職）及周超 （曾在台製製片廠當攝影師），後來又來了伊夢蘭（台灣第一位女性攝影記者）， 元達（綽號原子彈）等人。

他們拿的相機大都是萊卡（Leica）...攝影新聞自己有排字房，製版房，還有拼板機。編輯部有兩人，校對兩人，採訪有三人。他太太則是負責暗房。創刊初期托外面人印...但是圖片印出來比較不清晰，後來買到日本製版的鏡頭，鋼版...這樣印出來效果好很多。當時報社大部分是陳蘆隱投資...陳蘆隱每天待到出報才能回家，夜裏大概也過一，二點了...

陳蘆隱創辦《攝影新聞報》的理念是想學美國的《每日畫報》，以圖片為主文字為輔，在1950年代可說是空前絕後，為戒嚴年代傳播史上留下重要的一頁。攝影新聞內容圖文並茂，四開大小，每天出報一大張...內容有要聞，影劇，生活，攝影，漫畫，藝文等... 當時報紙不是官方就是黨營，攝影新聞是少數民間經營（的媒體），資源很少，採訪新聞也受到打壓，維持大都是靠訂戶，廣告等，收入入不敷出，陳蘆隱賣了兩棟房子才能維持下去，最後頂了五年，1959年不得不轉讓給攝影界同好，美而廉老闆陳雁賓，他則在太太的勸說下移民美國。

帶26個英文字母來美國

1962年夏天，將《攝影新聞》轉手後，和一位記者朋友，一同前往美國，那時只因在台灣事業失敗，來美國散心，沒有想在這裏居留發展，但是老伴要我為了將來子女教育，盡量設法留下，才開始認真想法子。

最初我個人申請來美國簽證時，一向刁難簽証的台北美國領事館，對新聞媒體的人員竟然客氣三分，我與朋友前往申請，不到幾分鐘就辦好簽證。我們輾轉到了舊金山，坐99元環遊美國的灰狗巴士去紐約，四天四夜到達紐約總車站，我和同伴決定住價格便宜的青年會 YMCA 旅館，當時不知道旅館離車站只隔一條街，招了計程車，司機看我們言語不通，手指車中碼表，搖搖頭，另外兩指比劃 「二」，意思是兩塊錢，1962年一杯咖啡五分錢，汽油每加侖才兩毛。計程車一拐灣就到，兩個土包子上當了。

到紐約後先要想辦法賺錢養自己，我由朋友介紹去禮品店當店員，禮品店的老闆說我太矮，沒被錄取。後來在中國城租了店面，買了器材，開照相館，生意清淡，幾個月就關門大吉，又賠了錢。

照相館倒閉後，一位朋友帶我到康州紐海文市，這地方是耶魯大學所在地，半個城都是校園，文化氣息很濃。初到時先在一間中國小餐館當跑堂，然後著手替還在台灣的妻子兒女辦來美國簽證。

篳路藍縷的移民生涯

1964年老伴帶著高一的兒子和初一的女兒扺達美國，安排他們就學後，有一天一位朋友告訴我，有一間已經休業很久的三明治店出租，地區不大好，但店內有一些基本設備，月租才100元，問我有沒有興趣。我覺得這是條路子，就說好吧，從此開啟了我們餐館生涯。

承租店面雖然地區不很好，但前方有小型寫字樓，後面有職業醫師大樓，左前方有市政府和耶魯大學合辦的大型醫院，因此我們初期的顧客大多是醫生，小寫字樓𥚃的律師保險經紀人等。三明治店內大部分被櫃臺佔據，因此拆櫃臺加桌子後才像餐館。餐館生意很好，賺的錢大都用在攺裝和添加設備。老伴是大廚，我是經理兼跑堂，晚餐忙時兒女都會來幫忙洗碗。

這裏得插一段： 我的老伴天資不凡，學什麼，像什麼。雖然是護理專業，當年辦《攝影新聞》，我從頭開始教她沖洗照片，她很快就能獨當一面，負責暗房工作，把握了一流的沖洗照片技術，而且每天為了出報，徹夜趕工，是我們辦報事業的幕後英雄。

她本來對洗手作羹湯毫無興趣，但我們決定開飯店後，她就決心學廚藝，每天在廚房揮汗掌勺，廚藝可以比米其林三顆星的大廚，吸引了無數聞名而來的顧客，每晚飯店歇業後，她又洗洗刷刷，把廚房整理的光可鑑人才休息。老伴的賢慧， 勤勉，以及無條件的全力支持，也是我們能有所成的主要原因。

在小店賺了不少錢，買了三房兩廳住房，開的是全新奔馳轎車。記得有一次去紐約中國城採買，不小心誤入一條單行道，後面來了警車呌我跟他走，拐入一條小巷子停下，查了証件後，他不出聲，舉出雙掌，表示「十」的意思，又拿出罸單，搖搖頭，我懂得他的意思，掏出十塊錢，他說話了，「捲起來給我。」這是我親身經歷，千真萬確的事。

在小店兩年多後，在市區買了一座樓房，將樓下的小雜貨店改成中餐館，五十個坐位，只賣晚餐，迄1984年退休，才結束整整20年的餐廳生涯。

兒孫滿堂

我們千里迢迢，移民而來，是為兒女提供更好的教育機會。 孩子們也很懂事，果然不辜負我們的心願，學業和事業都有很傑出的成就，這是我們最大的安慰。

兒子從耶魯大學得到量子應用物理碩士，畢業後在紐澤西州的貝爾試驗所任技術研究室主任， 退休後還曾返台教書。女兒從紐約愛因斯坦醫學院拿到遺傳學博士，就職於羅格大學從事腫瘤研究，並兼生化系主任, 曾多次得科研獎。兒媳女婿也各自事業有成，共有三個孫輩，六個曾孫。數十年來，每年感恩節，全家團聚，兒孫加上親家，人數總有四、五十人，來自各族裔，有如聯合國，非常熱鬧。

多彩多姿的退休生活

退休後，我和老伴在佛羅里達州濱海別墅住過十幾年的寫意日子，後來因為年邁需要有人照顧，住回紐澤西女兒家，兒子也不遠，常來探望。

我的愛好很廣，不是在退休後才有。先說音響，1945年我就曾在基隆向日本人買了一台落地型的音響，上層是唱盤，中間一層是訊號接收機，下面是12吋喇叭。唱針有兩種，一種是鋼針，一種是竹針，竹針每放一面唱片就得換一次。

來美國後開始發燒，尤其在70年代，不斷買器材買喇叭，音響設備轉手之間，我也結識了不少同好。曾有一位音響教父級的Levinson，是飯店的熟客，他只吃海味，每次帶來新器材或零件，收取一半批發價，另一半以飯錢抵付，他吃的開心，我也得以翻新設備。

再談的是汽車了，我的瘋狂程度誰也猜不到，我曾經用過36部汽車！其中只有兩部是二手車，其他都是全新。多年來我用過大小奔馳五部，寶馬三部，林肯一架，還有好多部四輪驅動的吉普車。直到三年前有一天，我去大賣場購物，車子衝上安全島刮破車胎，又有一次開上人行道。這才不得不承認自己老了，結束了我的開車生涯。

除此之外，我的手機、平板，幾乎年年換新，我也收藏過各種形式的影帶，音樂帶和磁碟。電視則從方箱子，到液晶，換到最新的八十吋智能電視機。每天欣賞音樂，看電視、電影，加上學用新的社交媒體平台，與朋友親人聊天，我的日子過得十分充實！

（編後語： 陳蘆隱慶祝了96大壽不久後的一天，於午休時安然而逝。 他是我的二姨夫，生前是我們親戚圈內WeChat群組上最健談的，經常分享一些身邊趣聞和回憶，前年我採集了好幾段他的簡訊內容，編輯成文，送給老人家，他非常高興，親自做了些修訂、補充，題之為「跑堂話舊」，然後由兒媳翻譯成英文，發送給兒孫們。我把這篇文章略做減縮，在此與各位共賞，聊表紀念這位生趣橫溢的老人。—吳甦敬筆。）

       我四歲進台北建國中學，十四歲離開。倒不是天資過人，而是沾了老爸的光。他到建中教高中物理，就帶了一家搬入了教職員宿舍，一直住到他接到師範大學的聘書才搬走。

       五十年代，建中是抗戰勝利後首先開辦的學校之一，校舍是日據時代建的，為了容納大部分來自大陸的教職員和家屬，校園幾個角落的倉庫體育館等等，分別改建為宿舍，校方表示，「這是暫時之計，大家將就一下。」光陰如梭，十年間，我們家從我和妹妹兩個孩子，添了兩個弟弟，算是在建中校園裏渡過了童年。

       我們住的「大宿舍」是日據時代的武道館改建：木造樓、木板地、長方形，中間一長條走道，兩側用三夾板各隔了十三間，共住有二十六戶，每家佔地大約十坪，各有兩扇窗戶往外開，門則開向中間的長廊，不論是哪一家出入，都難免會跟鄰舍打照面。左鄰右舍咳嗽、嘻鬧、或吵架，好像就在耳邊，「隔牆有耳」這用詞，我很小就有體會了。

       緊隔壁的一家嗜好京劇，不時招來三五同好來票戲，從老生唱到花旦，配上京胡皮鼓，興致來了，唱個通宵。一向沈默溫和的爸爸，有時實在耐不住了，只好敲牆壁，說，「太晚了，該歇了吧！」曾幾何時，對門抬進一座烏黑的鋼琴，他家女兒開始學琴，時斷時續的琴音，配和著長廊裡劈裡啪啦的日式「呱嗒板」，和叮叮咚咚的皮鞋聲，不時充斥耳中。爸爸後來橫下心，抱回家一台老爺留聲機，公餘放上他喜好的古典音樂和國樂曲子，也加入了「大宿舍協奏曲」。

       鄰居經常見面，孩子們年齡又相近，大家很容易混熟, 有幾位這裡結交的朋友，數十年以後還保持聯絡。那時串門子只需踮著腳丫子，躍過木板走道，連鞋都不用換。哪家有人講古說今了，只需呼喚一聲，霎時就圍坐了一圈。我就曾經被一群小毛頭包圍過，一面把看過的故事從新編織，一面加點油添些醋，如果穿插些鬼魅神怪，就更受歡迎。講故事所得的最大回饋，就是看聽眾那直愣愣的眼神、與合不攏的嘴。

       記得有一年中秋節，不知是誰出點子辦同樂會，在一間屋角拉起了床單當帷幕，各家帶上水果糕點，有人唱歌跳舞，有人來一段短劇，或變個把戲，我被拉進「服裝表演隊」，搜出媽媽抽屜裡的絲巾剩布，打扮成了個新疆姑娘。那時發現，有些人平時不吭聲，倒有意想不到的才藝。

       我們家這一排的窗戶，面對著一條窄長的綠地，上面有幾株槭樹；晴天時，碎鑽似的陽光，透過綠葉，灑進窗框；風起了，推著層層枝葉如浪拍岸；蟬鳴和蟋蟀的叫聲，經常與孩童嬉鬧聲交織，四面縈繞。樹蔭下, 女孩子用橡皮筋編的繩子邊跳邊唱 ，「小皮球、香蕉油，滿地開花二十一...」，男孩子在一角打彈珠，漂紙牌，不時爆發出笑鬧聲。

       有一天爸媽帶回大捲的白報紙，媽媽煮了一鍋漿糊，他倆協力把白紙貼在夾板牆上，然後把醬色的油漆塗上斑駁的地板，幽暗窄長的房間，乍然亮了起來。每家也各自發揮室內裝潢的偏好，各種字畫、相框紛紛在牆上出現。在這個暫時棲身之地，各家各戶開始往下扎了根。

       木造樓是不許開火的，樓旁一個鍋爐房，就成了大家共用的廚房，每家佔了一個位置，夠放個煤球爐，堆些鍋碗瓢盆。一長條水泥料理台和幾個水龍頭，大家輪流用。每天清早，燃了煤球，炊煙四起, 成了大宿舍的起床號。主婦們摩肩接踵的，她們天天如此應付自家的一日三餐，好像從來沒出過差錯？

       鄰居們來自天南地北，廚房裡的對話，經常繞著各地菜式口味，或不同的年節習俗打轉，媽媽就是從這裡學到湖州肉粽、浙江酒釀、和四川泡菜的。我最愛站在廚房一角，看鄰居的婆婆、阿姨們趕麵、發饅頭、包水餃，深深吸入那熱騰騰的蒸籠冒出的香味，我一輩子對麵食的偏好，就這麼養成了。

       大廚房後面，一片空地伸向一排磚牆，牆後面是國語實小，我們家四個姐弟，都上了這所小學。雖然每天規規矩矩的走出建中南海路的正門，左拐再步行十分鐘進入小學，這堵牆還是為我們提供了方便，早上匆忙出門忘了什麼，可以隔著牆呼叫，「媽，毛筆硯台！」「媽，飯盒！」鄰居聽到，就會馬上傳達。多年後，同學會上有人說起，「記得當年翻牆經過建中，溜出去玩。」具體地點經我核對之下，就是這座牆！

       磚牆後面，小學旁邊就是和平西路，路兩邊搭了各種鐵皮頂的小舖，賣雜貨餐點，緊貼著我們這一段，有家燒餅舖，用大汽油桶改的烤爐，蔥花或糖漿口味隨你挑，還賣一種橢圓形的饅頭，蒸熟以後貼在爐邊烤，直到底下焦黃香脆，上面保持鬆軟，顧客稱之為「鞋底饅頭」，美味無比。連三餐無米飯不行的爸爸，都點頭讚好，「鞋底饅頭」沾紅燒蹄膀肉汁，是我家打牙祭的美味。要買燒餅饅頭很方便，撥開牆頭幾個鬆動的磚頭，就是個外賣窗口，這是鄰居間公開的秘密。

       後來有幾家在空地上用竹籬笆各自圍了塊地，有的種菜，有的養雞，有的搭了一間房給岳母住。我爸媽搭了個竹棚當小廚房兼飯廳，廚房後還圍了個小院落，從此媽媽有了她自己的天地，花圃裡栽培了她喜歡的各色花草，圍籬上爬了蔦蘿和牽牛花，我和妹妹也幫著挖土種花苗，弟弟們和玩伴在竹籬間穿梭，互相射水槍。多年後，妹妹開了庭園設計公司，我也愛好種花蒔草，很可能是這裡播下的種子。

       宿舍區還是各色小販招攬生意的好地點：「饅頭、豆沙包」的吆喝聲，補鍋修碗的拉鋸聲，賣餛飩麵的竹片聲，輪流出現。最讓孩子們興奮的是爆米花，家裡搜出瓶瓶罐罐和一碗米，小販就收下瓶罐，把米裝進長條形的鐵絲網籠，扇著炭爐邊烤邊搖籠子，不多時，大喝一聲，「好勒！」圍觀的我們就趕緊蒙上耳朵， 只聽轟然一聲，白花花的爆米出籠，再給幾毛錢，還能加上一勺麥芽糖，只見竹條播弄幾下，一排排方方正正的米花糕就變出來了。

       早年大宿舍跟校舍僅隔了籃球場，後來雖然搭起了圍牆，大門仍然經年敞開， 方便教職員進出，有些學生也由此走捷徑出後門。放學後，尤其是週末假期，整個校園就成了宿舍的後院。籃球場是學騎車和溜滑輪軲轆鞋的好地方；教室大樓間的花圃樹叢，正合適捉迷藏或辦家家酒。夏夜裡，各家各戶紛紛把躺椅竹凳搬到大操場，孩子們互相追逐嬉戲，大人們端了茶杯，嗑著瓜子，談天說地。仰頭望去，繁星點點，第一次聽媽媽指著銀河，說牛郎織女過鵲橋，就在那樣的夜晚。

       建中校門正前方的紅樓，宏偉的前廳，高聳的弧形天花板下，大理石拱門拱柱，正對著一對壯觀的梯階。最吸引人的是拱柱之間的木雕欄柵，八對柱子，就有八個欄柵，大約四英尺高，五英尺寬，正適合孩子們爬上爬下當馬騎。夏日炎炎，大廳裡卻涼風習習，冬日寒風細雨，大廳裡依然乾燥暖和。週末或寒暑假，如果四顧之下看不到任何大人，孩子們就出現在這「騎馬地方」，或官兵追強盜、或騎馬打仗、或拖曳著長裙、扶梯而下，編織出各種場景和故事，在這裡流連大半天。就這樣，廣闊的校園，成了大家的遊樂廳和後院，在孩童的心目中，家裡十坪大的居所，也就不再侷促擁擠。

       如果把鏡頭拉長，建中校門對面，過了南海路，就是植物園，園裡有大片的荷花池，和無止境的樹木和各種奇花異卉，多年間更有各種文化機構陸續豎起，中央圖書館、歷史博物館、藝術館、科學館等等，不愧為「南海學園」。我們能任意逍遙的天地，也因此變得更為寬廣。傍晚時分，是散步的好地方，如果爸爸興致來了，還會帶上羽毛球拍，一家在空地上打幾局。有時候大人想圖個清淨，就讓我帶弟妹們去植物園，幾個孩子沿著荷花池邊的長廊，去找植物園的涼亭、假山，有一次，小弟在荷花池邊追青蛙，撲通一聲追進了池塘，大弟從旁將他一把拎了起來，我們四個一路跑回家，不聲不響的給他換上乾淨衣褲；那時還不懂「滅跡」的道理，沾了泥巴濕漉漉的一團衣服就塞在床底下， 當然，媽媽一進門，就嗅到了「秘密」！這件事，到今天我們姐弟相聚，還不忘提出來互相取笑。

       多年後，我舊地重訪，記憶中無邊無際的南海學園和建中校園，似乎縮了水，大宿舍早已消失在一場火災中，但紅樓依然無恙，據說已當作古蹟保留，站在拜占庭風格的空曠大廳裡，童稚的笑聲和奔跑的足音，彷彿還在大理石的拱柱和地磚間迴盪， 兒時光影鮮明在眼前浮動不已。

在半世紀前，東港還是台灣邊塞小鎮。第一次去東港，是個極漫長的旅程。

清早五點半的臺北火車站，熙熙攘攘，都是大學應屆畢業男生，興奮中带了不安，要乘南下專車去受訓，再服预備軍官役。

頂著煤煙的慢車上，每人一杯茶，一個便當。沿途陸續有人下車。下午過了臺南，車上的人已少了一半。然後機械系的到左营海軍報到。電機系的去岡山空軍。

高雄轉車。又過一個鐘頭，好不容易挨過了屏東，車上所剩無幾。彼此都知道，大家都要去最後一站，東港空軍幼校，受教官訓練。

我的数學系同學多半去臺南炮校，因為炮官需要計算。基本訓練後往往去前線金門或馬祖。三个月前分發抽籤時，我居然是極少数的幸運者之一，抽到去東港的教官籤，全場轟動。大家都知道服教官役，一不吃苦，二無危險。當時不知，東港遠比“無危險，不吃苦”更好。

一輩子，只中過這一次上上籤。臺灣的愛國獎卷，加州的樂透，全與我無缘。不久前某個集會上抽到幾瓶醬油，高興了整晚。

大巴，在東港休息站停下。

又轉了一次車，半小時後，終于到了邊塞東港大鵬灣的幼校。相當於高中的軍校學生，個個精神抖擻，活潑聰明。尤其身著空軍制服的那一股率勁，人見人愛。我三生有幸，與他們相處一年。在經濟起飛前的臺灣，東港是一塊璞玉。山明水秀，民風樸實。那時東港山海及人物之美，至今難忘。

在幼校每天早起，朦朧中，大鹏灣内點點渔火。一艘接一艘的竹筏，從左岸出發，無聲無息，不知要去何方。

藍天白雲，遍地蕉園，處處椰林。那時因為交通不便，東港雖處邊陲，是個外人不知的桃花源。大鹏灣無浪的海水，清可見底。即在盛夏，蕉風椰影中，也不覺太熱。一天的海光山色，足以醉人。 

寧靜的大鵬灣，突然一天，空中都是飛機。震耳轟隆聲中，好奇的預備軍官，紛紛來到海邊。原來是空軍水上飛機隊在演習。

休息站極雅致，各色土產，琳琅滿目。服務小姐殷勤接待。

東港女孩眼裏，城市來的大學畢業生，如天之驕子。眷村裏的乖女兒，彈子房 的記分小姐，以及街上的木瓜西施，常對這些預備軍官表示好感。有天那位西施，老媽陪同，帶了一籃雞蛋，轟轟烈烈，闖進我們這個軍事單位，找她心上人。彈子房小姐情竇初開，屢屢向數位預官示愛，但她老爸看得極緊，甚至動粗。老爸實在放心不下，找到校長，要求制止預官拐騙他女兒。之後，只見她總是悶悶不樂，每天在角落裏，低聲唱她的情歌，寞落可憐。

在這個世外桃源的溫柔鄉裏，當然一定要有個圓滿的愛情故事。一位師大朋友，英俊如青年歌星Johnny Mathis，很快遇到一位眷村知己。每當黃昏，海邊林下，總看到這親熱的一對。

一到星期日，許多人去屏東高雄湊熱鬧。空蕩蕩的幼校，是最輕鬆的時候，上午沿著如畫的大鵬灣散步，吃過中飯，睡個午覺，在樹下看一下午的小説。或者到校外，騎車探訪一些不知名的漁村。累了，就在無人的沙灘上休息，欣賞臺灣海峽裏的滔天巨浪。

晚飯後，再漫步到海邊。大鵬灣中點點渔火，又在遠方出現。只見一艘一艘的竹筏，無聲無息，向左岸靠近，慢慢在黑暗中消失。

大巴自休息站重新出發，已是傍晚。一路酒綠燈紅，東港已不是從前的世外桃源。真慶幸自己有一段這麽美好的回憶。行車不久，又在一觀光旅館前停下。車門緩緩打開，蹒跚上來位長者，似曾相識，原來是五十年未見的老同學義華。

（3）維蘇威火山：在這個磁鐵的右上方就是著名的維蘇威火山（Mount Vesuvius)， 也就是與龐貝（Pompei)廢墟相提並論的那個殺手火山！它在西元79年八月天的一個下午爆發，釋出大量的火山灰及岩石碎屑噴向山腳下的龐貝，短短的25小時就把它埋沒在幾公尺厚的下面，據說有一萬多人罹難，由於沒有熔岩流出現，所以這個市鎮的建築物及一些罹難者的身軀才得以被保存，到將近二千年後的十九世紀才被人所發掘。

我們在五月初抵達龐貝時還不到旅遊旺季，但遊覽車已經絡繹不絕，入口處的遊客更是大排長龍，可見世人對文化遺產的重視！這個園區的規模之大超乎我的想像，幾乎大半個市鎮都被挖掘出來了，雖然多數的建築物都被以快速飛來的火山碎屑及石頭所損毀，但是在斷垣殘壁中，尤其從屋內的裝飾、存留的用具、器皿以及壁畫上仍然可以反映出當代的生活情況及文化背景。

站在大廣場(Forum)上，遠眺仍然昂然屹立的維蘇威火山，人世間已經度過幾個輪迴了，而它還在蓄勢待發！

一. 年度体检有感 

     今天上午去看家庭医生，主要是体检，再就是把一年看其他医生的情况做个沟通。

     几个月前，我离开上海前做了主要脏器的超声检查，这项检查在国内是体检的常规项目，而在美国并不属年度体检范围内。我一直困惑在医疗这么发达的美国，为什么例行体检的项目如此之少，今天终于有机会和我的家庭医生讨论了一下。她对我说，美国医疗上预防性筛查和有症状后循证检查，是两个不同的系统：预防性筛查的项目是依据大量研究数据和可能的常见病而选择的，需要在考量对病人身体是否可能造成危害，或对病人是否有益间取得平衡。

     她又说，曾遇到一些台湾或大陆来的病人，在家乡检查到这样那样的问题，来美以后，安排作各种进一步的追踪检查，最终的诊断可能并不需要作什么治疗，但是已经经历了好些有伤身体的检测，反而平添了许多无谓的烦恼。

     至于什么情况作何种筛检，也可能涉及不同医疗理念。但并不是说所有人群的筛查都该一致，对高危人群重点筛查是必要的。当然，经济考量也是个重要的因素，例如某些好的私人医疗保险，往往提供更多的筛查项目。我很早就听说过越有钱的人身上的手术伤疤就越多的传闻，可能夸张了些，但多少也印证了经济和医疗的关系。

     我觉得在重视生命，关注健康的问题上，没有对错。感恩我们生活在这样一个年代，能吃穿不愁，还有条件维护身心健康！

二. 一位医生的故事

     因为曾有头晕，家庭医生推荐我去看神经专科医生，今天便约了Dr. K. 

     还没看到他，就听护士说 Dr. K 非常有耐心，会花很多时间和病人交流。因为接着要去机场送人，我有点担心会拖时间。

     还好没有让我等太久就见到了医生，果然 Dr. K 态度很好，问这问那，从专科的角度解释我的症状应该不属于神经专科，不过他还是仔细看了我两年前做的头部MRI, 并给我做了全身神经系统的检查测试，包括眼底。另外也描述了几种可能引起头晕的原因，如内耳不平衡，血压偏低等等，告诉我如果出现什么样的神经系统症状就回来看他，絮絮叨叨的就像一个长辈关心小辈似的。

     听说我从中国来，Dr. K 告诉我他父母是俄国人，在中国生活了三十年，说流利的中文，英文和俄文，他出生在上海，四九年他几个月大时随父母和许多外国人乘船来到美国，当时旧金山报纸上还登了一张他父亲抱着他走下船的照片，保存至今。他从小到大，经常听到父母说起在中国生活的回忆。

     医生就这么和我聊着聊着……我一边偷看了一下他的手表，一边想着如何结束谈话。 最后他终于把话题回转到我身上，分析可能的病因和处理办法，完成了医生和病人之间的对话。

     感恩遇到慈祥的神经专科医生，不但解释清楚了我的症状，而且还分享了他自己的故事。

PART I

Video Documentary: 憶胡佛號 “觸礁” 事件

[Insert Hyperlink to the video here.]

Part II

A Maiden’s Voyage

On River Danube Aboard MS River Harmony, November 1, 2018

“Excuse me, are these seats taken?” she asked the couple sitting at a table for four.

       “No. Please join us,” said the lady. “I am Susie. This is my husband, Jim.”

       “Hi! I am Vera. Look at those gorgeous fall colors passing through the windows! I got so intoxicated by them that I did not even hear the dinner call.”

       “Where are you from?”

       “Los Angeles. We don’t have seasons. Can you imagine that our rivers are paved with cement?”

       “Really?” said Susie. Then she changed topic, “You care to join us for a toast?” 

“What’s the occasion?”

“It is my father’s 108 birthday.”

       “Wow! I have never met anybody who is older than a century,” said Vera. “Is he with you on board?”

“He didn’t quite make it. He passed away at 96.”

       “What a good daughter you are, still remembering your dad’s birthday 12 years later!”

       “I remember it because his birthday is on All Saints Day, particularly when I am on a cruise. He was a seaman. You like to cruise?”

       “Yes, but I prefer river cruise. I don’t like ocean cruise.”

       “You get seasick?”

       “Yes, but that is not the reason. I could always take seasick pills.”

       “Bad experience?”

       “I had a shipwreck.”

       “No kidding! My father had also been in a shipwreck. But that was, let me see...” after a short pause, “Eighty-one years ago.”

Eighty-one years ago! Vera’s mind started to drift. Suddenly the long forgotten past rose up vividly. It was the day after All Saints Day. It was not raining. It was not cold, just nippy.

Ottawa, November 2, 1937

       As she rolled laughing down the lawn on the slope in front of the red house, some freshly cut grass got into her mouth. She liked that taste. She got up and ran back up the slope. Just as she was ready to roll down again, she heard a menacing fire truck siren blaring in the distance...  

“Get up!”

       “One more roll!”

       “Roll?”

       “One more minute I mean. Please, Ah-ma.”

“This is your last day of school.”

She jumped out of bed. She had never missed a single day of school in her life, certainly not this one.

Since the beginning of fall, the little girl had kept announcing proudly to people that she was now a second grader. Second grade was totally different from first grade: The prints in her books were much smaller. The songs she sang changed from nursery rhymes to church songs. Most of all she was writing with an ink pen. It was her Daddy’s old Sheffield. It had a turtle-shell outside and a gold tip on the nip. Daddy gave it to her on the first day she started her second grade. She was going to do some serious writing.

Although the Sister for second grade was much stricter, she was quite nice, even offered her to board at the convent.

She dressed herself in the morning; finished her breakfast even though she hated oatmeal; combed her hair and brushed her teeth without being reminded. She walked to school by herself. She was expected of doing all these things.  She was the oldest. Out of the four girls, she was Ah-ho’s favorite.

Walking down the stairs in the back of the house, she heard Ah-ho calling out after her, “Do you have your handkerchief?”

“Yes, Ah-ma,” she answered in Ah-ho’s native dialect.

There were so many languages spoken in the house, English, French, Tagalog, Mandarin, Cantonese... Ah-ho did not speak any of them. She kept the native tongue of the village she came from.  Kids were not allowed to call her by her name. So they called her Ah-ma, Mother in her dialect.

“Did you bring the picture book you colored last night?”

“Yes, Ah-ma.” 

“And your fountain pen?”

“Of course!” 

“Don’t get into the street. Stay on the sidewalk!”

“Yes, yes, yes, Ah-ma. I know!”

Coming out of the two-story red house, she did not see a single person on the street. It was too early for the people in these big Embassy mansions to venture out into the cold streets. She looked up to the pale blue sky. She was going to miss the snow this year. How is Christmas going to look without the snow?

The school was just five blocks down the street. But she always walked on the next street to avoid the big vicious dog that barked at her every time she passed by. Further down, there was this mean little fat girl calling out profanities, like “Ah ah-ah ah ah, she’s afraid of the pussy dog.”

She finally arrived at school, a white three-story building with black half-timber façades on all sides. She took off her coat and hung it on the peg under her name. She took off her walking shoes and put on a pair of soft shoes and then climbed up a long flight of stairs.

“1, 2, 3, 4...” she always counted as she climbed. “... 19, 20.” There was a closed door by the staircase. Every time she passed by, she always had the urge to push it in to find out what was behind that door. Only the sisters were allowed in. Just like in her own home, only her Daddy and the men dressed in suits, who came to work during the day, were allowed on the first floor. Do the sisters take off their headgears when they are in there? Do they have hair? How do they look in their pajamas? Do they have dolls or Teddy bears to sleep with? Do they jump on their beds?

She would have been able to find out if she were going to live with the sisters in the convent. But her parents said that was out of the question. They were leaving the city and were not coming back.

She resumed her climbing. “21, 22, 23,... 40.” She finally reached the floor where the classrooms were.

“Good morning, Sister Mary,” she said as she handed her drawing to the Sister.

“Good morning, Vera. That was nice work!” 

“What do you want me to pack in your suitcase?” Ah-ho yelled out to Vera just as she came into the house from school that afternoon.

       “Did you pack my Teddy bear?”

       “Yes, I did.”

       “Here is my fountain pen. I won’t need it on this trip, would I, Ah-ma?”

       “I don’t think so.”

“Where are we going, Ah-ma?”

       “Big Apple.”

Vera’s eyes opened wide on hearing the last word. It couldn’t be just one apple. Ah-ma must mean an apple orchard. What does an orchard look like? She had never been outside of the city. All she had been to were reachable by the city bus.

“How big is the Big Apple?” she asked.

       “I don’t know,” said Ah-ho.

       “Then why did you say it’s a big apple?”

       “Go ask your Mother.”

       “Mama, where is this Big Apple?”

       “America.”

       “Aren’t we already in America?”

       “People there think they are the only Americans. They don’t know there are other people living in America. So we just play along to make them happy.”

       “What other people?”

       “Eskimos, Haidas, Canadians, French, Chinese...”

       “Are we Chinese, Mama?”

       “Yes.”

       “How come?”

       “Our ancestors came from there.”

       “But Sister Mary told us we are all Canadians.”

       “She’s right.”

       “Why?”

       “You girls were all born in Canada.”

       “How can we be American, Canadian and Chinese all at the same time?”

       “All people in America came from other places.”

“What other places?”

“England, France, China...”

       “What about the Eskimos?”

       “Eskimos and Haidas are the only natives.”

       “Are they Chinese?”

       “No.”

       “Why does Amy Featherfoot look like Ah-ma?”

       “Because Amy’s ancestors and Chinese all came from the same part of the world.”

       “Then why aren’t Haidas called Chinese?”

       “Go help Ah-ho pack your clothes.”

       “What is Big Apple like, Mama?”

       “You will find out when you get there.”

Big Apple, November,1937

       Vera could not believe that such tall buildings could grow out of dirt, she meant asphalt and concrete pavements. They grew so tall that it looked as if they were touching the clouds. She had to bend herself backward to look at them. Even so, she still could not see their tops. There were so many of them. She felt suffocated as if being trapped in a forest.

They went into one of them. She looked for the stairs and wondered how many steps she had to count to reach the top. Instead, the man in uniform took them into a small room. As soon as its door was closed, the room moved. It moved so fast that her ears popped. It was an elevator, she was told. The first thing she did when she got out of the elevator was to run to the window to see if she could touch the clouds. She could not believe she was so high up that the cars that were running on the streets a while ago had all shrunk into small beetles, crawling slowly like ants. She got dizzy.

“Are we going to sleep here tonight, Ah-ma?”

“What do you think those beds are for?”

“I am afraid of height.”

“Just don’t look out the window.”

“I can’t help not to.”

“Let me draw the drapes.”

The next morning, when Vera woke up, her mother was already out shopping. After breakfast, her father took her and her sister, Vickie to explore the streets. Ah-ma stayed at the hotel with her two younger sisters who were too young to go out. Virginia was three, and Marina was just a few days over one.

The streets were lined with big windows. Inside the windows there were mannequins dressed in fancy clothes. In one window they saw autumn leaves and in another winter snow. Then they came to a wide opening to a sight of flashing and moving lights, brighter than the streaks of sunlight squeezing through between the buildings. The billboards were many times taller than the houses back in Ottawa. Is this the place where one could find the Big Apple? But she could not even see a single tree.

In the afternoon, Daddy took them to a theater. Instead of cartoons before the movie, some ladies came on stage and kicked their bare legs up and down, so orderly like soldiers in a parade. Vera looked for strings that must be pulling the limbs like in a puppet show. She saw none.

The family moved out of the hotel on the following day and went into a huge building. Its inside was big enough to fit a couple of movie theaters. The ceiling was so high. Vera saw a pigeon flying up there. What if it pooped? There were so many people down below! On the far end there was a row of swinging doors through which some railroad cars were parked. They got onto one. It was different from the one they rode in from Ottawa. There were beds and toilets in the compartments and curtains on the big windows. Suddenly the car started to move. Vera could not hear any sound and did not see a locomotive. It slid like skaters on ice.

Suddenly she saw nothing but darkness. A few minutes later, sceneries started popping up frame after frame outside the big window like in a movie. Buildings appeared and vanished, followed by bridges, roads, woods, rivers and wide-open plains. The click-a-di-clack sound on the track soon put her to sleep. When she woke up, it was dark outside. Daddy and Mother took everybody to a separate car. There were tables with white tablecloth just like in a restaurant. The men serving them all wore white jackets. The train ran for days and the clink-a-di-clack sound went on and on. The scenery outside of the windows kept changing, from green meadows to desert then to mountains. There were no place for her to run around. All they did was going back and forth between their compartments and the dining car.

Gold Mountain, November 1937

       The train finally ran out of tracks to run. It stopped at a waterfront at the foot of a hilly city. To Vera who used to see only flat land, the hills were tall mountains covered with houses. Some of the houses looked like clothes hung on clotheslines, some looked like rock pinnacles. Tramcars were pulled up the steep hills by cables. The hotel they checked into had its main entrance on one floor and its back entrance two floors down on another street.

At the foot of the hills there was a big body of water that was larger than any lake she had ever seen. There were many ships and bridges on the water. The big ship Vera and her family later boarded had two black chimneys of the size of silos wrapped in red ribbons.

SS President Hoover Launched in 1930

“Is it a bank?” Vera asked.

“No, that’s a ship,” her Daddy said.

“Why are there dollar signs on the ribbons?”

“That’s the name of the company that owns the ship.”

“You mean dollar owns this ship? Then why don’t they put its picture on the dollar bill instead of an old woman’s head?”

“This Dollar has nothing to do with the dollar bill. The picture on the dollar bill is a man, not a woman. He is President Washington.”

“No, it is President Hoover. Look, it is written on its neck, I mean collar.”

“That’s the name of the ship.”

“Is that why all the denominations of the American money bills have pictures of their presidents? But why it says San Francisco?”

“Where do you see that?”

“On its fanny.”

“You mean on the stern. What’s painted on the stern is the homeport of the ship.” 

“Whatever you say, I still think it is a bank,” Vera insisted stubbornly. “It’s so big. It must carry lots of silver and gold.”

“Come to think of it, you may be right,” her Daddy laughed and went along with his daughter. “The Chinese did not call this city Gold Mountain for no reason. San Francisco was at one time a gold rushing town. The gold found here had to be sent out by ships. There were no railroads then.”

“Shipped to where?”

“All around the world. Some to China. On their return voyages, they brought the Chinese. All the Chinese who came here had something to do with gold.”

“Did you come through here too, Daddy?”

“I not only came through here. I stayed here for quite a while.”

“To rush for gold?”

“No,” her father laughed. “I worked in the Chinese consulate here.”

“What did you do?”

“I represented the Chinese who came to dig for gold or to build railroads that connected the West coast of America to its East Coast.”

“Are you the first one in our family to come to America?”

“No, my Big Uncle came before me.”

“Did he come to dig for gold?”

“No, he came to set up the Chinese Consulate here.”

“The one you worked in?” she kept on asking curiously.

“Yes, but way before I came. China was still ruled by a monarchy then.”

“What is a monarchy?”

“A country ruled by an emperor.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Let’s see. This is 1937. The monarchy was overthrown in 1911. So it is roughly...”

“26 years ago.”

“Good girl, Vera!”

The ship looked more beautiful than anything she had seen. Besides the two big chimneys wrapped in ribbons, it had two tall flagpoles decorated with a string of colored flags between them. It looked like a feathered duck with a head and a tail.

The ship was so big that once on board, Vera felt like walking on one of the streets in the Big Apple. There were many turns and alleys. There were doors open to a hotel, a dance hall, a movie theater, a library, a restaurant, a playground with a sand box and many more doors that were closed to kids. She was told there was even a swimming pool! One could get lost easily.

“If you do, just ask any person in uniform,” said her mother. “He will take you back to your cabin. But remember, always stay inside. Don’t go out to the deck. I don’t want you to fall off the ship.”

“You mean we can go anywhere without tagging to you or Daddy?”

“Yes. Now come out to the deck with me.”

“Didn’t you just say we are not supposed to go out on deck?”

“Hurry up. The ship is leaving.”

“But we are already on board, Mama.”

“Just come. Don’t act smart.”

She followed her mother out to the promenade deck. She found herself high above the dock. She looked down. There was a brass band playing. There were lots of people down there. They were holding some color paper ribbons in their hands. On the other ends of the ribbons were their friends and relatives on board the ship. How could paper hold up such a big ship? Soon the ribbons all broke like strings of cheese when a pizza was broken up. The ship drifted slowly away from the dock. The ship sailed passed the hills that was covered with houses toward a huge structure in red. Will the ship’s flagpoles fit under the bridge, she wondered.

“My God, look at that!” her mother exclaimed. “It was not here when I sailed through here last time.”

“What is it for, Mama?”

“To bridge the two shores so that people do not have to take the ferry to cross the bay.”

“Why would people prefer to get on the bridge?”

“So that they could tell ‘the tale of Two Cities’,” Mother chuckled as she answered.

“What would they do if the bridge collapsed?”

“Go back to the ‘fairy’ book, I guess,” she laughed out aloud.

“You mean ferry boat, Mama,” corrected Vera , thinking that her mother had too much to drink at the Welcome-Aboard party.

A few minutes later, they were under the red structure. Like the buildings in the Big Apple, its tops were hidden in the clouds. Beyond this monstrous structure, there was nothing but an endless span of water.

“Let’s go inside.”                                                 

At Sea On SS President Hoover, November - December, 1937

       The ship was at sea for days. There was nothing to see but water. Then it came into a port. This place was totally different from either the Big Apple or the Gold Mountain. There were no skyscrapers and no hills, just a spread of lowly built wooden houses. Some scantily dressed girls in underwear and straw skirts danced on the dock to the music played on some instruments that looked like miniature toy guitars. There were flowers everywhere, from the girls’ heads to the musicians’ necks to the bushes along the streets. The dancers waved their hands like the leaves on the palm trees next to them and shook their skirts like peacocks shaking their feathers.

       Even though it was late November, people had on very thin clothes, men in airy flowery shirts hanging outside of their pants and women baring their shoulders, legs and tummies. Some people were even in bare feet.   

       Daddy took the family to a beach. It was the first time Vera had ever seen a beach. It was like a huge tilted sand box with one side submerged in water. The dry sand was soft like flour. No wonder they could not build any big houses here. Even the palm trees could not all stand straight up. She was more interested in picking seashells and running after sand crabs than going into the water. There would be plenty of oceans later on. Daddy said the ship would be at sea for several weeks.

       Sure enough, once the ship left port, she saw nothing but ocean all around her. Since Mother said not to go on deck, she could only look through the windows. There was not much to see anyway, except for the rolling waves with white caps, and a sky with scattered clouds that continued to change colors. The line that marked the division of water and sky moved continuously up and down viewed through the windows. It made her feel drowsy.

       But the inside the ship, it was another world. It was like a city. The train could probably run in it. With the permission to roam around anywhere freely without the supervision of the parents, Vera and Vickie felt they had the whole world to themselves. Every day was an adventure. Every adventure led them to some place new.

One day they came upon a door hidden away from the main drag. She tried the knob. It opened. They went in.

The place was filled with racks of shelves from floor to ceiling. The shelves were filled with Christmas ornaments; some in boxes and some just lay unwrapped. Racks after racks of them. There were many decorations they had never seen before. As they wandered from rack to rack, they sometimes fantasized they were in Lilliput in Gulliver’s Travel and sometimes in Alice’s Wonderland. It was too early for Christmas trees. They might not have a Christmas this year. But this was better than any Christmas tree. So the girls continued to explore. They finally exhausted themselves in excitement and fell asleep in a cozy corner.

Vera did not know how long she had slept until some voices woke her up.

       “Did you find out where it is?”

       “Yes.”

       “Is that the only place?”

       “Yes.”

       “You had better be damn sure that there is not another place.”

       “I’ll check again.”

       “Do that. We’ll meet here again tomorrow at this time.”

       “Tomorrow is too soon. This is a big ship.”

       “Then in two days. We’ve got lots of time.”

       As the two men were leaving the room, Vera peeked out between the racks for a look. One was in a sailor’s uniform, one in a white steward’s jacket. Luckily they did not notice her. What would they do to her if they found her here? Would she get a spanking? She shook her sister awake and whispered, “Vickie, let’s get out of this place.”

“Why do I have to dress up, Mama?”

       “We are being invited to dine at the Captain’s table tonight.”

       “Why?”

       “The Captain wants to meet your Daddy.”

       “Why do we have to go?”                              

       “We are a family.”

       “Will Ah-ma go?”

       “No.”

       “Why not? She’s family, isn’t she?”

       “Who’s going to look after Virgie and Marina?”

       Captain Yardley looked so distinguished in his white uniform with gold-embroidered cuffs. His charcoal-colored hair made him look intelligent. There were two other couples at the table. She was the only child. Mother left Vickie with Ah-ho after she threw a tantrum. So Vera told herself she had better behave like an adult.

The adults were chitchatting about trivialities that did not make any sense and toasting each other just to have a drink. After a few toasts, the Captain turned to Daddy and asked,

“May I ask what kind of business are you engaged in, Mr. Chow?” 

“I was the Chinese Consul General in Ottawa.”

“Isn’t that where they have embassies from all over the world?”

“Yes. But China does not have one in Canada. So our Consulate also serves as an Embassy.”

“May I address you Ambassador Chow?”

“In name only,” chuckled her Daddy in modest.

“Being a diplomat you must speak many foreign languages.”

“Just English, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese and some French. My wife also speaks Tagalog and Spanish.”

“You have a beautiful wife, Your Excellency.”

Beautiful? The little girl took a good look at her mother. All she saw was the same short-tempered mother hidden behind some fancy clothes and glittering jewelries. Then she heard her Daddy responding,

“Thank you for the kind words, Sir. You have a beautiful ship.” 

“She’s Robert Dollar’s prize lady, the most luxurious and fastest in the world. She runs at 20 knots with twin propellers driven by the newest turbo-electric motors made by General Electric.”

“But why is she called a mail ship?”

“She was built for mail.”

“Just for mail?”

“You couldn’t imagine what mail carries these days.” Leaning forward to Daddy and lowering his voice, Capt. Yardley said, “Just between you and I and the ship mast, we are carrying one ton of gold on this trip.”

“One ton!”

“Please keep this to yourself, Your Excellency.”

“Of course, Sir. I’ll keep it just between you and I and these bulkheads.”

The two men broke out laughing.

“Let us have a toast to both ladies!” said Capt. Yardley.

“As we say in Canada,” rising his glass, Daddy said. “A la santé des dames! Ganbei!”

After that the two men kept on laughing and toasting on one thing after another.

What kind of conversation is that? Did they get too much to drink? If it is a male ship, why is it referred to as she? Isn’t gold for ladies, to make bracelets and necklaces? What does gold have to do with the Chinese dumpling wonton? In any case, from now on she has better refer the ship as she. Mr. Dollar sure has taste. She is beautiful.

As time dragged on, the conversation around the table got more and more boring. Her attention soon shifted to the stewards who were serving at the table. There were so many of them. They all wore white jackets. She wondered which one was the voice she heard in that Christmas storage room. She couldn’t wait to sneak back to eavesdrop on their secret talk. Two days was a long time to wait.

The girls sneaked back into their hide-out before the meet up time. Then came the voices they were waiting for.

“Did you find out?”

“That was the only place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“Did you see what they have inside that room?”

“Yes.”

“Can you handle it?”

“No problem.”

“Then the next thing to do is to find out about the protocol.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Don’t just say not too hard. How do you propose to do it?”

“Leave that to me. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

“Let’s meet two days from now.”

“Same time?”

Vera caught a better glimpse of the two men this time. The one in sailor’s outfit walked with a slight limp. He was half a head shorter than the one in white jacket.

“Vickie, from now on watch how all the sailors on this ship walk,” she said to her sister. This was probably the most serious endeavor she had ever engaged in her life. “When you notice a limp, look at the face and remember it. Now let’s follow them.”

       They quickly came out of their hiding and followed the two men at a distance. But after a few turns, the man with a limp went out to the deck. Mama said not to go out on deck. When the girls turned around, the white jacket steward was nowhere to be seen. Worse yet, they did not know where they were.

She was not worried. Mother had told them to ask a uniformed person if they got lost. She found one. 

       “Mister, can you please tell us where we are?”

       “Are you lost, little girls?”

       “No, we are just wandering,” Vera corrected the man. “Besides, we are not little girls.”

       “Excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean that. I mean... I mean to ask if you have lost your little sisters. They could be playing at the sand box.”

       “We know where it is.” But how does he know we have two little sisters? Could he be...?

       “Do you know on this ship we have the best sandbox for kids?” Asked the man in the white jacket.

“Better than on any other ship in the world?”

       “You bet. Let me take you there. By the way, my name is Jerry. What’s yours?”

       After they told him their names, he said to them, “Follow me.”

       When they got to the sandbox, the man said, “Let’s see who can pick the most color beads from the sand in a minute. No sand. Ready? Go!”

       After they counted the beads in each person’s hand, the man in white jacket asked them, “Now you know how to get back to your cabin?”

       “Yes. Thank you, Jerry.”

       Could he be the one in the storage room? Definitely not. They liked him.

       They looked up Jerry the next day. He told them he could not play with them because he had to work. So they just tagged along while he walked through the entire ship checking on all the safety devices. They could not believe their eyes when they came to a room glittering in gold.

First Class Lounge

       “It looks like the Russian palace in the movie!” They cried out.

       “Sh-, keep your voice down,” said Jerry. “You girls are not supposed to be in here.”

       On the following day, they looked up their friend, Jerry, again. He was polishing the brass handles and doorknobs. The girls put on some cotton gloves and joined him. Then they came to the landing of stairs.  There was a big clock. Vera took a look at it and yelled,  “Vickie, we have to go!”

       “Let me show you the swimming pool,” Jerry said.

       “Not now. We have an appointment.”

       “That reminded me I had to go meet someone too. Let’s meet here tomorrow.”

       Meet here tomorrow? That expression sounded so familiar.

       “Could Jerry be one of the men in that storage room? ” Vickie asked.

       “We’ll see,” said Vera. “ Now that we know Jerry’s voice.”

“Have you found out about the contact protocol?”

       That was definitely not Jerry’s voice.

       “Yes.”

       That was not his voice either. Even counting Jerry out, there were still so many sailors and stewards. Jerry told them that the ship had a crew of 300. Perhaps she could enlist Jerry into her secret investigation. 

       “Good. We must maintain uninterrupted contact with shore during the whole time from Rendezvous to Drop,” the first voice went on.

       “When?”

       “We don’t know how long the ship will stay at Kobe. I’ll let you know once we leave port.”

       Then the two men parted abruptly without setting a date. Now how was she going to find out when they would meet again?

“Where is Kobe, Daddy?” Vera asked.

       “It’s a port in Japan.”

       “Can we go ashore?”

       “No.”

       “Why not?”

       “China and Japan are at war with each other.”

       “Why?”

       “Just about five months ago the Japanese troops marched over a bridge into a Chinese city. The Chinese tried to stop them. They fought back. Then the war started.”

       “What’s the name of the bridge?”

       “Marco Polo Bridge.”

       “Wasn’t Marco Polo an Italian?”

       “Yes.”

       “An Italian bridge in China?” Vera asked in confusion.

       “You see, foreigners in China like to hear names they are familiar with, not in Chinese.”

       “Why did the Japanese want to go into the city in the first place?”

       “They said they were looking for a soldier missing at a morning role call.”

       “Did they find him?”

       “That was not the point. It was a pretense the Japanese made up to launch an attack on China.”

       “What if China did not try to stop them?”

       “That would give them an excuse to march through the entire China.”

       “Just to look for a missing soldier?”

       “Yes.”

       “What if they found the soldier?”

       “I doubt if there were such a soldier. Well, if they did, they would think of some other reason to march on.”

       “What other reason?”

       “Such as asking China to pay for expense of their operation in looking for the missing soldier.”

       “Isn’t that ridiculous?”

       “You think that is ridiculous? Why do you think the Chinese airplane bombed this ship?”

       “They did?”

       “In Shanghai.”

       “When?”

       “Just three months before we came on board.”

       “How did it happen?”

       “China hired an American general to run its air force against the Japanese. The first order the American general gave was to bomb this ship.”

       “Why?”

       “No one knows.”

       “Is America a friend of China?”

       “They said they are. But they keeps on selling scrap irons to Japan.”

“What’s wrong with that? They are scrap.”

“All those warships and tanks that invaded China were made of the scrap iron supplied by America.”

“Oh, I know. They bombed this ship to make it into another scrap so that they could sell it, I mean her, to Japan?”

“I don’t think so,” her father said in deep thought. “I sure hope not.”

       “What’s the general’s name?” 

       “Chennault.”

       “Did China put him in jail?”

       “No, he was awarded ten thousand American dollars.”

       “Why?”

       “No one knows.”

       “By whom?”

       “Chiang Kai-Shek.”

       “Who is he?”

       “The acting president of China. By the way, he is a friend of Robert Dollar, the owner of this ship.”

“How did he explain this to his friend?”

       “Gen. Chennault is his wife’s pet.”

       “What did the president say?”

       “China has no president.”

       “Daddy, what is protocol?”

The ship finally left Japan. The two men did not say when they were going to meet. But the next meeting must be crucial. The girls did not want to miss that. So they went to hide in their secret corner everyday at that time as soon as the ship disembarked to sea. Then one day, they heard the voices.

       “Did you find out about the rendezvous time?”

       “There is a complication.”

       “What?”

       “The ship is not going through the Strait.”

       “What shall we do?”

       “Dirks will let us know as soon as he finds out about the new course.”

       “When?”

       “Tomorrow.

       “We meet at the same time?”

“Right.”

“What is a strait, Daddy?” Vera asked her father the next day.

       “What are you talking about?”

       “The strait for a ship I suppose.”

       “A strait is a narrow body of water between two land masses such as the                     English Channel between England and France.”

       “What’s the difference between a strait and a channel?”

       “A strait is a longer channel.”

       “Is there one for our ship to go through?”

       “Well, the only one I can think of is Formosa Strait.”

       “Where is Formosa?”

       “It is an island off the China coast named Taiwan.  It had been colonized by the Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch. Colonialists liked to call the places they occupied tin their own languages. The Portuguese called it Formosa,  meaning “beautiful island”. Then in the year 1661, a patriotic Chinese pirate named Zheng Cheng-Gong took it back from the Dutch. It’s name has since reversed back to Taiwan. When the Japanese annexed it in 1895, they retained the name. But Westerners continue to all it Formosa. You get it?”

       How could her father expect her to understand all this politics?

       “So is Formosa Strait Chinese or Japanese?” she asked.

       “Chinese,” said the Consul General emphatically. “We call it Taiwan Strait.”

It all made sense now. If this ship was bombed in the Chinese territory before, of course, the captain would not want to risk the tragedy happening again. That is why he was trying to stay away from the Chinese waters.

“The captain has charted a new course for the ship to the waters east of Formosa,” one voice said to the other.

       “Will this take longer for us to reach the Rendezvous?”

       “No. In fact it will be more direct to Rendezvous. But the waters are going to be rougher.”

       “Why?”

       “It’s an open ocean instead of a strait. There will be more chance for us to get into the way of a typhoon. Do you get seasick?”

       “No.”

       “Good. I don’t want you to get seasick. It is crucial that we maintain uninterrupted contact with port authority in Manila at all time. During the time between Rendezvous and Drop, people must think we are still en route to Manila. No one, on land or on board, should suspect of anything abnormal is going on. If you see anyone suspicious, eliminate him.”

       “How long will it take from Rendezvous to Drop-off?”

“Same time as to Manila.”

“Where is Drop-off?”

“San Miguel.”

       “How many hours?”

       “Assuming she keeps at 20 knots, it will take twenty-one hours. But I can’t tell if there will be any delay in the handling of the cargo at Rendezvous. Let me take care of it. You just keep the ship-to-shore communication going so that they do not suspect we are not en-route to Manila. Have you been listening on their communication?”

       “Yes.”

       “You sure you can handle the protocol?”

       “Not just the protocol, I can imitate the radio operator’s wrist rhythm exactly.”

       “Good!”

“Are we going to Manila, Daddy?” Vera asked her father to make sure she had heard correctly.

       “Yes.”

       “What is Rendezvous?”

       “It’s a French word for meeting. As for place, it could be anywhere agreed upon by the people who are going to meet.”

       “Are we going to stop anywhere in between?”

       “No.”

       “Why are we going to Manila?”

       “That’s Mama’s home, where Grandma lives.”

       “Where is San Miguel?”

       “Where did you hear that?” The man was surprised to hear it from his 7-year-old daughter.

       “I heard a steward mentioning it.”

       “That’s the trade name of a beer.”

“Made in Manila?”

“Yes. It is owned by Gen. McArthur.”

“Who’s Gen. McArthur?”

“The American general in charge of the Philippines.”

“Is Philippines Philippine or American?”

“Well, it used to belong to the Spanish,” Daddy cleared his throat and said. “Then...”
      Oh no! Not another lecture! Thought the little girl. Now everything seems to fall into its place... Japanese marching over Marco Polo Bridge... An American ship being bombed by Chinese planes... Chinese planes being ordered by an American general... A Philippine brewery owned by an American general... But where is Rendezvous? What is the cargo? Why will there be a delay to handle the cargo? Why can’t they leave it in the ship’s safe? Isn’t a safe the safest place to keep silver and gold? Unless the cargo is something else more valuable than gold? Who is the man who walks with a limp? Who is the man in white? Are they pirates? Are our lives in danger?

“... Spain had a war with America…” her father continued. But Vera was not paying any attention to Daddy’s lecture-styled answer any more. She was wondering whether she should tell her father what she had heard and what had been going through her mind during these past days. Then the deck under her feet started to swing. She felt that everything in her stomach was going to empty out. The ship must be on the open ocean as one of the men said. She tried to hold it down. But she had be at the stockroom where the two men were to meet. That was more important, about the Rendezvous. She could not miss it. Vickie and Ah-ho were either sound asleep or knocked out by seasickness. She tried to fight against her own nausea and got up. She wobbled to the stockroom.

“Listen,” the familiar voice of the sailor now sounded like that of a commander. “There will be a farewell party for the First Class passenger tonight. The captain and the officers will all be there. By midnight, they will probably be all drunk or returned to their cabins. Let us give them two more hours. Then we will start at 02:00. Dirks will take over the bridge. I will take care of the cargo. I’ll leave communication to you and Roberts. Now let’s synchronize our watches.”

       Wow! Isn’t that high sea piracy? I must tell Daddy.

       She ran out of the stockroom, unseen by the two men. But instead of going to Daddy and Mama’s cabin, she went straight to the bathroom in her cabin and threw up. What came out of her mouth was some green smelling stuff. Was that her intestines? Was she going to die? She felt dizzy and fell into her bunk. She felt like the whole earth was turning upside down and emptying everything out. Is there still a  piece of dry land that is not submerged by this raging waters? What about those men in the stockroom? Are they still trying to get the ship to San Miguel? She should get up...

Boom! Boom! Boom!

       “What’s that, Ah-ma!” Vera sat up in her bunk and asked while the ship rolled to one side.

       “Go back to sleep. It’s still dark outside.”

       But the ship did not right herself as she had been doing all this time! The roll just froze like the waterfall in winter back in Canada, like the film getting stuck on a frame in a movie theater. Was she dreaming? She was not feeling seasick any more.

She looked out the window. It was pitch dark as Ah-ma said. Suddenly the sea lit up. A moment later, a streak of light flew across the sky. Then darkness returned. A few minutes later, another streak of light cut across the sky. This went on for quite a while. The ship remained tilted and frozen in place.

Then there came a loud voice,

“Attention, all passengers and crew. Get out of your cabin and workstations. You will be guided to your assigned area on deck.”

“Go get Ambassador Chow to the bridge,” Capt. Yardley said to his Chief Executive Officer.

       As soon as the Chinese Consul General was escorted to the bridge, the captain said, “Your Excellency, I beg your pardon for the inconvenience to drag you up here. As you could see, we have a situation.”

“Where are we, Sir?” the diplomat asked.

“We are aground on Hoishoto.”

SS President Hoover at Hoishoto, December 11, 1937

“Where is that?”

“It’s an island off the eastern coast of Formosa.”

“How long are we going to be here?”

“For quite a while I’m afraid. Exactly how long, that’s anybody’s guess. But I have a more urgent problem on hand.”

“Is she going to sink?”

“That’s not the problem. She’s on solid reef.” Pointing out of the big windows the captain said, “You see those ships out there?”

USS Barker and USS Alden at Hoishoto, December 12, 1937 

“They look like some kind of naval ships.”

“You are exactly right. Look, there are four of them, two Japanese and two American.”

“What are they doing here?” the Chinese Consul General asked.

“This morning the Japanese bombed an American warship, USS Panay, sinking the ship and killing three sailors and wounded 48.”

“Here?”

“No, in the Yangtze River near Shanghai.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“It took place less than twelve hours after we got on this island.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think those two Japanese warships showed up instantly? Look, the covers on all their big guns are taken off.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever they have in mind, I have the lives of 503 passengers and 330 crew to think about. Many of the passengers are very important people in the financial sector of our country.”

“I realized that,” the Chinese Consul General nodded thoughtfully. “I remember talking to some bankers the other night.”

“Hoishoto being a prison island. The English translation of Hoishoto is Inferno Island.”

“So?”

“It is for holding prisoners. Now you see why the Japanese wasted no time to dispatch their warships?”

“But we are just a passenger ship.”

“That’s exactly the point. Why would an American passenger ship sail so close to a politically sensitive island while there is a wide safe water out in the Pacific?”

“I see your point,” said the diplomat.

“There must be jailers on the island. We tried to communicate with them as soon as we got aground. But none of their responses made any sense. I need your help, Your Excellency.”

“How can I help?”

“I must get these people on board off to shore before something more drastic takes place.”

“What do you want me to do, Sir?”

“I understand you speak Japanese.”

“Yes.”

“Can you go ashore with me?”

“At your service, Sir.”

“That will be greatly appreciated by my government and Mr. Dollar, Your Excellency.”

“Can we go inside, Mama?” Vera pleaded. “I’m cold.”

       “Can’t you see what’s going on inside?” her mother pointed to some rowdy sailors. “Listen to that yelling. Do you see that man with a pistol in his hand?”

       “I think he’s the purser!”

       “Assistant purser,” her mother corrected her.

Come to think of it, could he be one of the men who came to the storage room?

“Is he a bad guy?”

       “No, he is trying to handle the situation.”

       “What situation?”

       “How would I know?”

       “Are they pirates?”

       “They are part of the crew. Look, they are all in uniform.”

       “Why are they fighting each other?”

       “I was told that a lot of the sailors did not belong to this ship. They were hired at the last minute just for this trip because some of the original crew were on strike.”

       “You mean they were Shanghaied.”

       “You are very imaginative, Vera. They were not Shanghaied. They are temporary hired hands. Who knows who they really are?”

       Then her mother went to help Ah-ho to take care of her two little sisters.

“Big Sis, I just saw that guy.”

“How do you know it was he?”

“He walked with a limp.”

       “Where?”

       “He just walked into the First Class Lounge.”

“By himself?”

“With some men. Shall we tell Daddy?”

       “Tell Daddy what?”

       “What we heard in the storage room.”

       “No!”

       “Why not?”

       “It doesn’t matter any more. Besides, we’ll get scolded.”

       “For what?”

       “Making up stories.”

       “But we did not make it up.”

       “No one will believe us, Vickie!”

       “What if these pirates really take control of the ship? What about Drop?”

       “The ship can’t go anywhere. Can’t you see?”

       “Why?”

       “Didn’t you see Daddy go ashore with Capt. Yardley? She’s stuck on the reef.”

“What is Daddy doing?”

“To help the Captain in handling the situation.”

“What situation?”

“How would I know?”

“How could Daddy help?”

“Use diplomacy.”

       “When Daddy gets the ship off the reef, I mean helps the captain in handling the situation, the pirates can still take her to Rendezvous, can’t they?”

       “You mean San Miguel.”

       “Is Rendezvous in San Miguel?”

       “Listen carefully, Vickie. We shall never mention this to anyone.”

       “What if someone finds out that we knew what the pirates were plotting and did not say anything?”

       “If we don’t tell anyone, no one will ever find out. It would appear as if nothing has ever happened. Swear you won’t tell anyone.”

       “I swear.” 

       “Cross your heart.”

       Vickie made the sign of the cross.

On River Danube Aboard MS River Harmony, November 1, 2018

As the River Harmony sailed smoothly down the Danube, the colorful fall continued to unfold itself against a setting sun. 

“Where did your father shipwrecked, Susie?” Vera came out of her reminiscence and asked the lady sitting across the table. She noticed that the lady had already finished her desert and was drinking her coffee.

       “Somewhere on the China coast.”

       “Do you know the name of the place?”

       “My father told me it was a small island no one had ever heard of.”

       “Hoishoto?”

       “I wouldn’t know.”

“Do you know the name of the ship?”

       “Dad must have told me. But I don’t remember.”

       “Does President Hoover sound familiar?”

       “That’s it!” Susie’s raised hand came down so hard on her husband’s arm that it knocked his coffee all over the table. “Didn’t I tell you it was President somebody, Honey? President Hoover. That’s right. I can’t believe it! Hey, Vera, how did you know that?”

       “I figured, eighty-one years ago, it had to be the President Hoover. That was the ship I was shipwrecked on.”

“You got to be kidding!”

“What else did your dad tell you besides the name of the ship?” asked Vera.

       “He must have told that story an umpteen times. But I never listened to it. Look, I had never been interested in ships until I started to cruise after my retirement.”

“Are you interested to know what happened?” Vera asked.

“Of course! But...”

       “Come to my cabin.”

       Vera brought out her computer and clicked on the website www.takaoclub.com/hoover/hoover.htm. There popped up an article entitled “The Wreck of the SS President Hoover”

       “Oh, my God! Look at that ship. That’s my dad’s ship? So small!” she felt as though she was on board. She could not wait to read what the article said.

“It was a mail ship,” said Vera. “They did not have cruise ship in those days. Skip it. It’s all about the ship. You can read it later. Click on Part II.”

Susie did. Just a second later she jumped up yelling in excitement,

“That’s my dad!” 

       “Which one?”

       “Not in the picture. The one who was telling the story. Listen to this: On board the USS President Hoover were two young Assistant Pursers, Eugene Lukes and Archer Moze... Look, Lukes is my maiden name. I can’t believe it! I can actually hear my dad’s voice telling the story!”

       “Haven’t you heard some of it before?”

       “No.”

       “Then go on.”

“Gene Lukes begins the story: It was wintertime and a strong monsoon was blowing. The Captain was getting these messages, ‘You must be in Manila, absolutely urgent that you arrive not later than 6 a.m. on the 12th of December, make all possible speed.’”

Hearing these words in the voice of the man’s daughter, Vera was brought back to the Christmas stockroom on board the ship. Then she heard the voice continue on,   

“We were zooming along southward to the eastward side of the island of Formosa controlled by the Japanese, who had turned out all the navigation lights. So we were sailing on what was called dead reckoning. Well, winds and seas are not always that predictable and about midnight we appeared close to shore and hit a peninsula. Arch and I were in bed, and I felt this bump and then all of a sudden I heard, boom, boom, boom...”

Vera jumped. She not only heard it. She could feel it. The reader took her eyes away from the screen and asked.

“Are you all right, Vera?”

“Yes, yes. Please go on reading.”

       “Later, an unruly group of crew members on board had reportedly broken into the ship’s bar and begun to party. The Chief Purser sent me to the first class smoking room where the slot machines were. He gave me his pistol and told me...”

“I remember seeing a person with a pistol!” Vera interrupted excitedly.

“That must be my father!” said Susie with equal excitement.

“Victoria also saw the person who walked with a limp...” she stopped short of finishing the sentence.

       “What did you say, a person walking with a limp?”

       “Never mind.”

       “Who’s Victoria?”

       “My sister. Please go on.”

       “Where was I?” asked Susie. “Ah, here it is: On the 13th of December the SS President McKinley arrived and the following day departed to Manila carrying 700 passengers and crew of SS President Hoover.”

Susie lifted up her face from the plasma panel. Her eyes were moist. They moved to fix on Vera’s face but saw her father’s face instead.

“Happy birthday, Dad,” Susie whispered. Then she pointed at the picture and asked, “Were you among them, Vera?”

“I guess so.”

Passengers boarding SS President McKinley

“How did you get from there to China?”

       “That’s another story.”

The End 

An empty cafe. Ms. Small approaches the counter. Mr. Big takes her order.

Small: One coffee, please.

Big: Small or large?

Small: Small, please.

Big: Same price.

Small: Small, please.

Big: Won't get your money's worth.

Small: Small…please.

Big: We're out of small cups--we only have large cups.

Small: Just half a cup then.

Big: I can fill it full.

Small: Just half a cup.

Big: We have lids.

Small: Just half a cup…please.

Big: You can drink half now and save the rest for later.

Small: Just half a cup.

       (From a glass coffee decanter, Mr. Big slowly pours coffee into a large cup.)

Small: Okay.

       (Mr. Big slowly pours more.)

Small: Okay, Okay!

       (pours more)

Small: That's enough.

       (pours more)

Big: Are you sure?

Small: Yes, okay.

       (pours more)

Big: You can have more.

Small: I don't want more.

Big: There... it's filled.

       (pause)

Small: It's too full.

Big: It's maximum.

Small: It's toooo much.

Big: Get your money's worth.

Small: I can't finish it all.

Big: Here's a lid, for later.

Small: It won't be fresh.

Big: Then just toss the rest.

Small: I know how much caffeine I can take--that's why I only wanted a small. 

Big: I'll pour some out then.

Small: No! I don't wanna waste—

Big: It's only coffee.

Small: But still--

       (Mr. Big goes to pour out the extra coffee.)

Small: NO NO NO, PLEASE! DON'T!

       (Mr. Big stops.)

Big: Calm down, Miss--it's only coffee!

Small: Then pour the extra into another cup.

Big: That will cost me an extra cup.

Small: So the cup costs more than the coffee?

Big: Yes, it does.

Small: Why did you pour me so much?

Big: For your money's worth.

Small: But I never want to waste...even coffee...someone else can use that coffee...someone else can get a perk from it...that coffee...was not made to be thrown away...

       (Mr. Big gets another large cup.

       He slowly pours half of Ms. Small's coffee into the other large cup.)

Small: But this will cost you--

Big: No, I'll...I'll drink it...

Small: O good.

Big: …later…

Small: It won't be fresh.

Big: I don't mind.

Small: But you'll really drink it?

Big: It's really just pennies if I don't...plus extra for the large cup.

Small: It's not the money, it's the planet...it's other humans--we can't afford to waste what we have--

Big: I'll drink it now.

       (pause)

Small: Let's, then...together--

Big: Cheers.

Small: Cheers.

       (They sip coffee together.)

End of Play

[About the author:

Alice is our home grown Valley girl: Born in Seattle, grew up in the San Fernando Valley, attended and taught at the Saturday Chinese school in the Valley, was cheerleader and student body president at Chatsworth High School in the Valley, graduated with a major in economics from UCLA (just South of the Valley), worked as an English teacher at South China Normal University in Guangzhou, which was an exchange university of CSUN in the Valley. She is the playwright of the award-winning "Last of the Suns" that was premiered at Berkeley Repertory Theater, “Ikebana” at East West Players in LA, as well as many plays staged in New York. She has also taught play-writing at Cal Arts, Brown University, and around the world including Hong Kong and Africa. — by Paul Chow]

Just when I had my first bite of the dumpling,

“Grandpa, this is not the way to enjoy dumplings,” the girl, with two short pigtails dangling behind her neck, spoke with a soft Shanxi twang.

How so? I asked.

“We Shanxi folks love rice vinegar, and Shanxi has the best vinegar in the country.” She was radiant with pride. “Our vinegar brings out the taste of food.”

Surely, I dipped my dumpling lightly in the vinegar dish on the table, and had another bite.

“Not so lightly, Grandpa,” the braids swung as she shook her head. “The whole dumpling must first be draped in vinegar. Only then will it taste great.”

Obediently, I then had a third bite.

“Come on, Grandpa!” 

What now? I wondered.

“Not such a small bite,” she seemed exasperated at this point with this hapless old man. The melody of her twang kept dancing, “You must now put the entire dumpling into your mouth, and chomp wholeheartedly. That’s the way to enjoy it.” She blushed as she was getting feverish.

At this point, I found myself helplessly falling in love with this bubbly apricot-eyed country girl. I wanted to adopt her as my granddaughter. 

烏魯木齊旅館裏的早餐桌上，每天都踫到各式各樣，各處來的人，國内的、國外的都有，大都是遊客，這樣年紀的還少見。有天，一位卡車司機與我共進早餐。祖籍河南，出生在新疆。從他父親，到他兒子，三代都是司機。他建議坐車貫穿「塔克拉瑪甘」大沙漠。「塔克拉瑪甘」 是中國第一大沙漠，也是世界第二，僅次於「沙哈拉」。路況好，安全，而且會是一次難忘的經歷。

老太太要去塔城，過去要坐一天的火車，現在有航班了。她由女兒陪同從美國賓州來，還有孫輩跟著。他們不像本地人，是滿洲皇親貴族之後嗎？「哪兒的話，我們是陝西人，姓安，家裏當兵的。」原來她家祖上是左宗棠的部下，入疆平囘亂後就沒離開。

說著，說著，突然女兒冒出一句，「你是臺大校友嗎？」顯然聼出我的臺灣國語，「傅斯年是我外爺爺。」

我上大學時，身為五四健將的傅校長早已過世，傅校長與先父在學界有來往，傅家的樂成和樂中分別與我姐和我相識，樂中是我中學和大學的學長，又是研究所同學。

「他們是我舅舅，樂中舅已去世。」

突然間，彼此的距離拉近很多。由於國共相爭，傅家分成了兩半。大陸的一半被下放到新疆，吃了不少苦。我家遭遇也差不多。這位校長的女兒後來嫁進安家。因爲美國的親人，十幾年前移民到賓州。

「塔城是好地方，值得您走一趟。」老太太和我聊開了。還要去伊寧，她在那兒成長，結婚，就業。 「高原，水草豐滿，風景好極了。」此行目的之一是要帶年輕人看看新疆老家，了解家族和民族歷史。「趁我還能動，」說罷，哎的長嘆一聲。

       In 1972, Nixon visited Beijing and began the dialogue between the U.S. and China. In 1979, the diplomatic relation between the U.S. and China was formalized. Shortly afterwards, China opened its doors for cultural and educational exchanges. It dispatched a number of delegations of higher education to the United States. One such visiting group of dignitaries was made up of faculties from China’s two top technology institutions, Beijing Institute of Technology (BIT) and Harbin Institute of Technology (HIT). Tung-Po happened to notice that one of his high school classmates was among the  delegates. So he invited him to visit our university, Cal State Northridge (CSUN). The invitation was accepted on the condition that the entire delegation be included. 

       “The University will extend the official invitation and facilitate their visit,” CSUN President Cleary said to us, “as long as you will provide for their lodging, meals, transportation and activity schedules.”

       We mobilized the entire Chinese community in the Valley, Yow-Ming and Grace Lee, Ching and Pansy Liang, Winston and Jean Lau, Tung-Shan and Yolanda Chen, Larry and Lan-Ping Lee, Peter and May-Fah Chew, Kwang-Nan and Marguerite Chow, Tom and Judy Woo. Did we leave anyone out?

       Each host family was given the following instruction: “Besides housing them and feeding them, your responsibility is to take them to the flagpole in front of the university at eight in the morning and pick them up at five in the afternoon, every single day for the entire week. We will take care of the rest.”

       Tung-Po took up the job of scheduling their activities, including meeting our faculty and administrators, visiting classes and research labs and visiting other institutions such as Cal-Tech, UCLA and Cal State Dominguez Hills. I-Shou was in charge of transportation. Paul was assigned to accompany them on all their visits as a cushion to their cultural shocks.

       The morning after their arrival, Zhou Yiping, Party Secretary of BIT, told us that he did not sleep a wink all night. “There was a whole stack of 中央日報, in my room at the Liang’s…Those newspapers were so interesting that I stayed up all night reading.”

“For the six remaining nights at the Liang’s, what would you like to read?” we asked. 

“金庸”.

At a meeting with CSUN faculty, President Liu Zhongpu was asked about the student-faculty ratio at HIT. When he gave the answer “Four”, the Americans broke out with Oohs and Aahs. The bewildered president turned to us and asked, “Too high or too low?”

       The visitors could not comprehend how we could accommodate five times as many students on a campus roughly the same size as theirs. When we told them we scheduled our classes from 8am to 8pm, they asked, “Don’t you guys eat and take naps at noon?”

       A few families complained to us that their houseguests tossed used toilet paper into the wastebaskets instead of into the toilets. “It stinks up the house!” 

       “Hey, they are being considerate,” we told them. “You see, toilets in China are mostly uncovered trenches that one squats over. Flush toilets are few and mostly in colonial style houses or fancy hotels. Besides toilet paper there is very coarse and can easily clog up sewer pipes. So they all know not to throw paper into flush toilets.” 

       Forty years later, Paul and Vera went to China. Flush toilets were common place，and many had gone paperless, replaced by water jets and air blowers. Paper money had also disappeared in marketplace, restaurants and subway, replaced by cell phone scans. Our exchange universities, BIT and HIT, are graduating ten times more scientists and engineers than CSUN does. How did China advance so fast? Take a look at their trains: It takes just a couple of hours to travel the distance that used to take half a day. We felt like 刘姥姥进了大观园. China has indeed come a long way!

“誰屁臭？”          “哎，桶破了。”   

“P. Chou?”          “Tung-Po!”

Submission date:  March 1, 2023

This is Tung-Po Lin’s last submission to 故事你我他.

He went to bed on the night of March 4, 2023 and never woke up.

編者註 Notes of the Editor:

1.   中央日報：the official Nationalist Party Daily News

2.   金庸：Hong Kong based author of martial arts novels

3.   刘姥姥进了大观园：Granny Liu coming to the great mansion, as in the classic, 《Dream of the Red Chamber》

今年的西洋情人節（Valentine’s Day）剛好落在我們這一群老青年每星期登山的日子。我們才80歲年輕熱情的領隊，決定帶著這些已過「從心所欲」之年的爺爺、奶奶們，把這段浪漫的時光，消磨在雷根牧場 (Reagan Ranch) 裡。雷根總統和南西是二婚，他倆在牧場上的生活據說挺浪漫的。

雷根總統曾經擁有過三個牧場，這是第一個， 不同於在聖塔巴巴拉的雷根牧場中心(Reagan Ranch Center in Santa Barbara)， 或是在格里塔的天空牧場 （Rancho del Cielo in Goleta），也非西米谷的雷根圖書及博物館 (Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and Museum in Simi Valley)。

走進了牧場，就面對著一片大草原。過去數月間幾場大雨的滋潤以後，春草展露了清新動人的一面。只是這過度的熱情，幾乎掩蓋了原有山徑，讓我們幾度迷失在茵茵綠草的懷抱裡。草原邊密集的大樹後，遮遮掩掩的該是原有的穀倉和馬厩吧？樹前的小屋和圍欄，似乎還帶著一些西部牛仔的味道。

走在蜿蜒曲折的小徑上。兩旁的綠草中，不時有些早開的花朵偷偷的冒出頭來。稀稀疏疏，羞羞答答的。該是春天的腳步才剛到來的緣故吧。山遠草近，風微雲聚，隨著山徑起伏，終於踏上了山頂。俯瞰腳下是一汪湖水。兩岸屋脊錯落，舟楫時見，才想到什麼什麼《桃花源記》之類的，耳邊就響起了一聲，“那裡買菜多不方便啊！“ 說得也是，又不種菜，也不養豬，說什麼過田園生活呢！

忽聽見走在前面的老兄喊道，“有花！有花！”果然，加州罌粟出現了。青草綠中的一抹橘紅。不到一片，不止一朵，剛好數叢！

徘徊流連了一會，那山、那水，那花、那草，那風、那雲，那你、那我，還有那一座高壓電塔。那就這樣，走向了歸程。沒有走來時一路向上，視野開闊的山路，卻選擇了殊途同歸，路遠而緩的幽徑。向著那一對在草坡上野餐的年輕情侶揮了揮手，走出了情人節。

情人節的一天，寫得出過程卻表達不出感覺。不如透過影像音樂，讓大家看看，聽聽，沿途的風景以及花兒們都說了些什麼。

https://photos.app.goo.gl/8xLe9rn8cNdMDH2x9  

備註：

1.位於Agoura的雷根牧場在Malibu Creek州立公園的最西端，可以從Cornell Road和Mulholland Highway交界處以南的28754 Lake Vista Drive (Agoura Hills, CA 91301) 旁的停車場進入， 這裏不收費。

2.雷根於 1951 年買下這個佔地 300 多英畝的牧場， 1966 年當選加州州長後，將牧場賣給了 20 世紀福斯公司作為外景場地。後來又被賣給了州政府並成為Malibu Creek州立公園的一部分。

It is a place of fascinating contrast. Along the highway is a lush green belt of farms. Beyond the farms are mesas that are devoid of any vegetation and are monotonously gray--just like the lunar surface. In the late afternoon sun, the gullies and crevasses of the mesas produce most mesmerizing shadows and shades. As I passed through, I slowed my car down in order to absorb all these.

A white roadside fruit and vegetable stand somehow attracted my attention. I pulled over and went in. There he was, a hillbilly, who had this “Forest Gump” look. The way he dressed, he actually looked sillier than Forest Gump. His subsequent conversation showed, however, that he was anything but - nothing like the slow wit character in the movie.

Although not a Mormon, he had about 10 acres of land in this Mormon country. He grew many kinds of peppers, melons and vegetables, and sold them in towns nearby. With few machines he did most of the farming by hand. He showed his hands to me which were full of calluses.

Born in a farming family in South Dakota, he always wanted to be a farmer. The depression there drove him out. He spent 20 years working in Salt Lake as a handyman and got married. With money saved, he bought this land in Southern Utah and became a farmer.

Both of his grown sons were away because none of them wanted to be a farmer. Life was not easy. This was a bad year because of too many bugs due to a mild winter. Yet he was not complaining because he was doing what he always wanted to do and felt very content.

I bought a loaf of bread which he baked that afternoon. He also made a smoothie for me using soy milk and melon he grew. Both were delicious.

Video Clip of “Luna Mesa”

       這幾年來，老朋友見面都挑選離公路較近便，而且肯讓客人飯後繼續聊天喝茶的餐館，約在中午聚餐，以避免路擠天黑時開車。倒是有位跟我們同屆的老友，老早就買了特斯拉電動車，由於用上了車上附帶的輔助駕駛功能（auto piloting)，即使天黑了在公路上開長途，仍舊覺得安全順暢，並不辛苦。多次搭他便車時，見他開啓輔助駕駛功能，輕鬆省力的開著車，車子加速運轉操控一流，車上的視聽娛樂資源豐富，音響效果也非常優良，讓我暗下決心，等特斯拉發售全自動駕駛（無司機）的車型時我就要買上一輛。

       一年一年如飛一般過去，不知不覺已經是2023年元月15日。那天照常在YouTube上隨意瀏覽觀望之際，偶然看到特斯拉各型電動車突然大幅度降價，其中最受年輕人歡迎的高科技表率 Model Y，  竟然一口氣降了$13000（原價的20%）！更妙的是這次降價，正好把它車價降到 $52990。聯邦政府三個月前才公布的電動車國稅優惠 $7500，限定SUV車價得低於 $80000 ，轎車得低於 $55000， 才合格受惠。其實 Model Y 是 特斯拉用旅遊車規格製造的SUV，有四輪驅動及雙馬達，車重也超過六千磅，但國稅局硬把它歸類於轎車。減價後的 Model Y （with 5 seats）車價已低於$55000，如果能在今年三月底之前購買取車的話， 就可受惠於 $7500 的國稅優惠。再加上開電動車既能減少碳釋放有益環保，還能節省不少越來越貴的汽油費，現在真是買特斯拉Model Y 的好時機。

       正好我們家的Chrysler 廂型車服務了我們21年之後，去年終於引擎出了大問題，得花大錢才能修復，已經考慮報廢換車。於是當機立斷，決定買一輛2023年的Model Y。特斯拉行銷方式採取網上直營，上網選定車型顏色付了$250 訂金就到附近的展廳去看車子。我最關心的三點是：1. 車子夠不夠大 ？老伴身材高大不喜歡開小車。 2. 進出方不方便？我人老體僵，很怕彎腰抬腿費勁跨越有坎的車門。 3. 存放行李物件箱空間夠不夠大？ 我們常跑長途，還喜歡用車裝運大物件。看車後，三方面都超滿意，也就簽了合同，安心回家靜待車子送到家門。

       在Youtube上看了無數視頻並親自驗車後，我覺得特斯拉Model Y更像是個放在四個車輪上面的 iPhone14+，而不是傳統意義上的汽車。 使用、駕駛、控制和維護它的方式與我們對待傳統汽車的方式完全是兩碼子事。

       我興奮地打電話給住在北加州的女兒，告訴她我剛剛在特斯拉下的訂單。 不出所料，她震驚之餘，緊張的告訴我，我的購買是多麼魯莽和不理性。 她完全無法想像在她眼中那位非常不懂高科技，且至今仍無法有效地使用 MacPro筆記本電腦，或 iPhone 6 的 80 歲老媽，怎麼敢妄想駕駛一輛像 Model Y 這樣充滿高科技功能的電動汽車。她自己也一度曾對此型車很感興趣，還特地約好親自去試開了一次，結果卻知難而退。我從她的急切話聲中可以聽出，她真的很擔心我給自己買了一輛我不會開也不該開的車。 後來經過多番勸阻無效，知道我已經鐵了心腸不會聽勸撤銷訂單，她只好再三要求，當特斯拉員工來交車時，我務必要求他/她進行仔細徹底的示範。為了安撫她， 我答應她，我絕對會聽話照辦。

       事實上我反正是退休在家的人，每天最不短缺的就是時間。Model Y不愧是當前世界上銷售量最大最的電動車，幾乎每天都有兩三個新的車主發出介紹有關Model Y各方各面的視頻。不論中英文，我都逐一觀看，覺得好的還保留下來反覆重看，而且一邊看一邊拼命學習兼記憶，把當年高三時準備聯考的認真勁頭全都給用上了。自忖，iPhone 跟 MacPro 用得不夠純熟沒什麼大不了，有問題時問問老伴或女兒都能解決，了不起小小的被他們嘲笑一下。 而一旦坐上Model Y的駕駛座，手上掌握的可是架馬力十足生命攸關的大機器，操作時可萬萬不能出紕漏。

       經過這十幾天認真努力的學習，對Model Y的車體構造，外觀內飾，特斯拉 app 的性能特點，操控維護的方法訣竅, 可說是都已經了如指掌，有信心車子送到我家時就能順順溜溜的開車上路。我會把這方面的訊息都告訴女兒，讓她放心。 也會把幾個好的視頻傳送給她，讓她也觀看學習，這樣等我們下次到北加州在她家小住時， 她也能學會開我的車。

       還要告訴女兒，雖然我這個決定做得比較突然，但絕不如她說的 ‘魯莽’。 前年我們家在屋頂裝配太陽能版時，我已經預料遲早會買電動車，到時就可在家里快速充電，因此要他們在車房裡加裝了充電樁，當時並不需另付裝置費。否則現在如加裝充電樁，價格不菲。現在買電動車的人迅速增加，許多專業的電工乘機抬高價格，聽說安裝費有時甚至高達兩千元。

       這輩子對於名牌豪車從未關心過或追逐過，說了這麼多，絕不是要炫耀我這個80歲的老太太居然不要命的追逐時尚，去買了輛當今年輕人趨之若鶩的高科技炫車。只是這回看到Model Y本身的種種優點， 例如，配有能高度消減駕車疲勞的輔助自動駕駛功能，已經證明有高度安全性的堅固車身，非燃油對環保有益，等等，趁著它此刻大幅降價，配上今年的國稅優惠，對於喜歡開車出遊的中老年人來說，現在的確是買一輛Model Y最好的時機。寫上這長長的一大篇，也就是野人獻曝而已。  

       It was the first Christmas I spent with my wife, Vera, back in 1956. We were fresh off the boat then and attending San Francisco City College.  Vera had a job as a housemaid for an invalid old woman, while I worked as a houseboy/chauffeur for the owner of Safeway stores at the time,  Mr. Magowan. His mansion was situated at the Nob Hill Neighborhood.

       Christmas to Americans was like the traditional New Year to us Chinese. Mrs. Magowan mobilized the entire household staff to decorate the mansion, including a tall pine tree draped with fancy ornaments and strung with colorful lights. Then their whole family traveled back to New York for the holidays. The household staff were sent back home for the duration. That left me alone to look after the gorgeous empty mansion and a most beautifully decorated Christmas tree.

       For students like us, Christmas was a time to earn some extra money. Both Vera and I found jobs in the department stores located at the bustling Union Square. I was a stock boy at Macy’s. Vera was busy with gift-wrapping work at H. Liebes Department Store. Along the streets at the Square, colorful lights were festooned across the rooflines, around the windows and up and down the lampposts, just like how it might have been during the Lantern Festival in China. Christmas songs and music filled every corner inside the buildings and outdoors in all the open space. 

We started working on our jobs as soon as school went on recess until late on Christmas Eve. After the crowd of last-minute shoppers thinned off, we took off in the Magowan’s Buick and drove to Lake Tahoe for midnight mass in a small chapel at Squaw Valley. After the worshippers all left, we climbed into our sleeping bags in the back of the car. 

       We woke up to a serene scene like in a Christmas card. The chapel was covered with a thick layer of snow, from the top of its spire to the bottom of the building and all over the ground. The pristine field was spotless without a single footprint of either squirrel or deer.

       We did not stay to enjoy the rest of Squaw Valley. We had to rush back to the city to work for the after-Christmas sale. The highway going downhill was wide open and completely empty. Ours was the only car on it. Vera had her first experience of putting her hands on a steering wheel. Two days later she went to take the test for her driver's license. On the same day, she got a ticket for driving too slow on the Bayshore Highway.  

       What an unforgettable Christmas!

我是薛曉⻘醫⽣，Dr Green Shiaoching Hsueh. 1973年台⼤醫學院畢業後赴美，接受了婦產科專科醫⽣的訓練及認證後，做了近四⼗年的婦産科醫師，也開業了38年，有幸在聖峪北嶺服務。2021年四⽉診斷出膽囊癌，經過兩次⼿術及六個⽉化療，原來復元良好，可是僅停藥三個⽉後就⾒癌症復發，腹腔內擴散，已經不能再⽤⼿術割除，⾃五⽉開始兩種化療再加⼀種免疫療法，⼗⽉⼜換了其他化療。 

退休前曾經應邀做美國癌症協會亞裔癌症年會講員，後來也參與義⼯的活動。今年九⽉⼗七⽇在該會Relay for Life的年會中，以醫⽣和病⼈的雙重身分，受邀和⼤家做⼀點分享： 

今天我們在此參加Relay for Life的活動，對已打完美好⼀仗的親友，獻上追思；對正在戰場上的病⼈們，送上⿎勵；⽽對戰勝病魔的倖存者，敬致祝福。 

在每⼀個場景，我們⽤⼼學習，都能體會「⼼中有愛，感到平安；活在當下，就是幸福」。 

⽣⽼病死, 必經之路。我們都希望⻑命百歲，但也不能不⾯對⾃⼰在世寄居，總有⼀天，我這旅客必踏上歸途。 

九⽉⼗七⽇，也是Louise Chen,陳瑤畑⼥⼠追思禮拜之⽇。她是與我併肩作戰的癌友，患的是膽管癌，和我所得的膽囊癌位置上算是鄰居，治療⽅法也相似，她發病在三年前。我剛得病時她就來看我，親⼿烹調了美味的⽶粉及包⼦，並和我分享她的治療經驗。過去這⼀年半來，我⾒她忙於千橡教會的事奉，照顧主裡弟兄姊妹們，⽐⼤多數⼈都活得帶勁。⼋⽉⼗⼆⽇我去醫院看她，也是道別：她在次⽇就進⼊居家臨終安養。⾒⾯時她談到病中還積極地幫助照顧別⼈，令⼈感動敬佩。她微笑說：「的確，這⼀⽣最後⼀段時間為主作

⼯，似乎最具效果！」我也跟她學到，無論時⽇⻑短，總還應積極的「把握當下」。 

我的表妹夫Mark  Agee在⼋⽉⼗三⽇過世。當知道他的癌症已經擴散，⽽各種化療，放射線治療，及免疫療法已無效後，他和他所摯愛的家⼈們決定好好的把握著剩下來的⽇

⼦。 他的⼩⼥兒在美國空軍官校，⼤⼥兒剛⼤學畢業，榮獲Fulbright Scholorship 到芬蘭留學。兩⼥兒都回到德州和爸媽⼀起過了彌⾜珍貴的暑假，還⼀起出外遊玩。當她們離開後，Mark進⼊了臨終安養Hospice的醫院, 在愛妻的守護下安然⻑眠。他們根據事前的安

排，不要兩⼥再遠道回家奔喪，⽽是私⼈⽕化後，留待冬假期間再邀請親友們參加

Celebration of Life的追思儀式。Mark並未對他⾃⼰兩度艱⾟抗癌⽽怨天尤⼈，反⽽對能有五年緩衝期，使他得⾒品學兼優⼥兒們完成⾼中及⼤學，度過⼀個個重要⾥程碑⽽充滿感謝。全家最後相聚，在愛中告別，去後則不⽤繁瑣儀式打擾親友。這也是把握當下，享受餘⽣的典範。 

⾄於今天還在接受治療的癌友們，包括我⾃⼰，雖然身體上會因病痛或治療副作⽤⽽有不適，⾄少可以數算以下的恩典： 

1. 享受到關懷和愛護。 這⼀年半以來許多⼈寄來書信，許多⼈送來美⻝，許多為我禱告。甚⾄許多癌友向我分享他們的經驗：九⼗⼋歲⾼齡的江媽媽，及⼋⼗⼆歲⾼齢的吳媽媽常親⾃為我及其他病友愛⼼烹調。 散居各地的昔⽇同窗（台⼤1973同學們）Line上為我會診，中學及⼩學同學們結伴遠道來訪，加上教會⼤家庭每週查經，禱告及線上禮拜，從前的同事和病⼈常常問候。 好友Carol恰是Event Planner, 還細⼼組織朋友們的關懷，讓我有⾜夠的休息等等。這種種正能量，讓我感受到「喜樂的⼼乃是良藥。⼼中有愛就覺平安」。同時也學習到如果不聚焦在⾃⼰的病痛上，把愛和關懷傳播出去，為别⼈稍盡棉薄，可以更有雙向的療效。 

2. 健康時許多事認為理所當然，失去健康時，只要有⼀點進步（例如今天不痛，胃⼝較佳，精⼒較旺）都覺得蒙福。⾃⼰四⼗多年忙於事業，對家庭多有虧⽋。⽽現在外⼦每天親⾃照顧我的⽣活起居，兩個兒⼥全家每週來訪，三歲到九歲的四個內外孫兒⼥令我忘憂。舍弟舍妹每天探視或電話問候，並籌備週詳地帶我旅遊，⼿⾜之情，猶勝兒時。⽽在美國各州及台灣的親友們時時問候，⽐未⽣病前更感受到可貴的親情，我何其有幸！ 

我有⼀位台⼤學⻑洪幸雄外科醫師，在他夫⼈診斷得了肺癌後，夫妻倆⼀年之內，嚐遍了洛杉磯⽶其林星級餐廳! 鶼𪃸情深地共享餘⽣！ 

當前就唸喜歡唸的書，吃喜歡吃的⻝物，去喜歡去的地⽅，⾒喜歡⾒的⼈。覺悟到可能時

⽇無多時，會⽐較積極地把握當下，享受⼈⽣。把握當下過這樣的⽇⼦，此⽣已知⾜。 

3. 疫情中的收穫：遠程參與。COVID-19的疫情，觀光旅遊餐飲都⼤受影響。未能⼀償夙願時，我們可以唸唸宋朝⼤詩⼈蘇軾⽣平所做最後⼀⾸詩，寫給他兒⼦的： 

 廬⼭煙⾬浙江潮，未⾄千般恨不消。  到得還來別無事，廬⼭煙⾬浙江潮。 

⼼⼼念念的美景，跋涉相尋後，發現也不過如此。⼼中有愛，處處都是美景! 

在疫情期間，聯絡⽅法也推陳出新，有⾰命性的改變。如⽤視訊開會，上班，學新知，看節⽬，包括參加今天的盛會，連看醫⽣⾨診都不必實體接觸了。 

紐約⼤都會歌劇院l疫情期間每⽇⼀劇，免費线上觀賞超過⼀年，我有位好友林美珍，就給病中的我每⽇遠程上歌劇課。欣賞了超過⼀百齣，丰富了我的⽣活。對於身體虛弱，⾏動不便的病⼈們，遠程參與，反⽽更能把握當下，善⽤時間！ 

4. 与癌共存：被譽為冠狀病毒之⽗的賴明詔醫師 /USC教授及台灣中央研究院院⼠，⼀⽣研究病毒，也兼及致癌的基因。提出「與病毒共存」的新理論。這觀念也可以應⽤到癌症，即使不能完全消滅癌症，我想到今天各種療法各有千秋，也各有局限，「與癌症共存」，取得平衡，也許會是⼀種選項。 

我的好友Betty Yean,  幾年前肺癌復發時醫師告知預後不佳，建議她兒⼦婚禮提前。不能等到六個⽉後。⼗年後的現在，雖然她還在⽤藥治療，但⽣活如常，已有兩個上⼩學的⼩孫⼥們！ 

我退休前收到⼀位病⼈Mrs H來信，⼆⼗年前我診斷了她的三期卵巢癌，也參與她的⼿術，然後化療。當時預後也不佳，知道她搬離LA, 久無⾳訊，所以接到她的來信頗為驚喜。 她告訴我說她安然存活，且那天是她九⼗三歲⽣⽇，特此告知這樣的案例已經屢⾒不鮮，感謝默默從事醫學研究的⼯作者，⼀步⼀腳印地累積經驗。但願醫學的進步，不僅僅在延績⽣命⻑度，⽽能提昇⽣活品質。 

身為醫師，深感⽣命的奇妙，越來越不敢誇⼝科學萬能，只能謙卑地學習終身！在此恭喜戰勝癌症的朋友們，你們浴⽕重⽣，對⽣命必有更深的理解和珍惜。盼望你們多做分享，造福他⼈。 

「⼼中有愛，就是平安 ；活在當下，就是幸福」。 

謝謝⼤家！                                 薛曉⻘ 

As I walked into the office to clear my boat for another tuna hunt, I noticed my brother tagging behind me. “Heaven knows how long it will take me to clear through these God damn red tapes,” I said to him. “Why don’t you run along and take the boat to the ice dock and fill up her hold?”

He dashed out like a schoolboy at the sound of the class bell. Sar was still a kid. He was four years younger than me. He showed up on my boat in Shanghai while I was preparing for a tuna hunt on the south sea. His boarding school in Soochow boarded up its door when the Communist force crossed the Yangtze River. He had nowhere to go. When we were kids, he always followed me wherever I went. So I said to him, “Jump on board.”

The Taiwan Strait gave him a baptism for the sea. The South Sea and tuna turned him from a kid to a fisherman and from my brother to my shipmate. Once we got into Kaohsiung harbor, Sar’s hands started to be itching for the wheel, to steer the boat on the wide still water like a skipper without anyone looking over his shoulder.

The next thing I remember was a loud explosion that made all the windows in the office clatter. I rushed out to the street. There was a huge column of black cloud rising at the far end of the harbor. It opened up like a black octopus hovering over a coral reef.  

“Oh Blé!” Boris Sarapouloff cried out. “That’s where the ice dock is! Isn’t your boat loading on ice?”

The company jeep was parked in front of the office. But the driver was nowhere to be seen. The Russian Port Engineer hot-wired it and we drove off.

Arriving at the waterfront, all we could see along the long abandoned dock was a lone listed black cargo steamer. The black octopus was still rising upward from her deck. At the inner core of the monster, there was a red-hot crater. On the leaning halyard of the ship hung a drooping red pennant, showing that she was carrying inflammable cargo. Two characters, 眾利, were clearly shown on her bow and stern.

All the storage tanks on the waterfront had caught fire. Small pieces of metals were raining down from sky. Burning molasses were flowing on the dock toward the harbor. 

We arrived at the ice dock. There was no sight of any boat, just a clerk from the office lying on the dock among the litters. 

“Why are you lying here?” I asked.

“My leg broke. It got caught between the boat and the dock.”

“Where is the boat?” 

“Your Chief took off with her.”

“With my crew?”

“No, all by himself. Your crew followed your brother and jumped into the water.”

Back in the fish harbor, I found my boat and the chief. I was damn lucky. The explosion did not get to her. All the fishing gears were intact. I must get out of this mess. But first, I must gather up my crew. 

Most city streets were blocked. My crew returned to the boat one by one throughout the afternoon. By evening, everyone was accounted for except Sar. I was not worried. As long as Sar was in the water, he would be all right. Back home in Tsingtao, he used to spend his entire summer in the ocean. Sar is new to the city. The whole city is on fire. Give him some time. He’ll show up.

I waited all night. Sar never came back.

By daylight, my hope had faded. I took a skiff and went back to the ice dock with my boatswain. The spilled molasses were still burning. The water in the harbor had turned into the color of black tea. While the boatswain rowed, I poked the water with a fish gaff. A few minutes later, a body surfaced next to one of the concrete piles of the dock. It was Sar.  

The boatswain ripped apart some fish boxes and nailed the boards into a coffin. “That’s good enough,” he said. “It was just for show. It will be discarded before they put the body into the crematory anyway.” 

The crew gathered by the sea where Sar went down. The sea breeze was not able to carry away the smell of the burnt molasses. It was not strong enough to subdue the voice of the speaker, a woman dressed in black blouse, black skirt and black shoes. Her black hair was tightly pulled back into a knot. She was summoned by the Port Captain to conduct the seaside funeral service. 

The woman started by reading exerpts from the Bible. Then she sang from another book. From time to time, she would pause to blow her nose and to lift her spectacles to wipe her eyes. I was not in any mood to listen to her. To the ears of the fishermen, her mumbling was totally foreign. A little while later, she started to talk to some invisible spirit like a Taoist priest did when chasing away the evil spirit. What was she saying to her God? Was she praising Him that His will had been done like in her singing? Or was she blaming Him like what I did, that He had not dutifully guarded this youthful life? It did not matter either way. To the seafarers on this island, there was only one god who could protect them, Goddess Matsu. But she failed to protect Sar. 

I hired an ox-cart to carry Sar to the crematory outside of the town. I walked side by side with the ox-cart. I wanted to hold Sar’s hand like we had used to do since he was a toddler. I looked at him. All I could see was the cuff of his shirt through the cracks of the fish box. All I could hear was the sound of the ox-cart’s rubber tires rolling on the gravel road like that made by my bicycle tire with Sar sitting sideways on the top tube back in Tsingtao. I felt as if Mother was walking with us on her little liberated feet. I could hear her mumbling, “How many times have I told you boys to keep away from fortunetellers?”

It got nothing to do with the fortuneteller, Mama. Sar was not drowned as the fortuneteller had cursed. The coroner said there was no water in Sar’s lung. He must have been hit by something. Shockwave? …Propeller? That bastard chief engineer! He had no right to take my boat without my permission! Why didn’t he just mind his own business in the engine room?... Why did he leave the office clerk on the dock?

Then I realized I was just trying to find a scapegoat so that I did not have to blame myself.

I shouldn’t have asked Sar to take the boat to the ice dock! What does thirty-minute delay mean in a three-week-long fishing expedition?

I should have let Sar stay with me in the office. I should have... 

What does it matter now? 

Suddenly the broken pieces of my favorite porcelain figurine on the floor floated into my eyes. Realizing I could never put it back again, I cried. I was a child then. This time I did not cry. I just became numb. 

I hated myself.

The next day, my boat went out to sea without Sar and me.  

I went back to the crematory. This time I walked alone, with an earthen urn to collect Sar’s ashes.

感恩节周末，大家高高兴兴准备吃火鸡开Party。一大早，我等在电视机前看感恩节游行的直播。因为有华星艺术团的主场演出，我得盯着录像。演出很成功，我正高高兴兴地把视频转发给大家，就接到了邻居的电话，公司被盗！于是四天的感恩节周末就从火鸡Party，换了模式，变成了警匪大片儿！

事情是这样的：盗贼在感恩节前一晚，砸开地毯公司大门的玻璃，钻进公司偷东西，因为公司没有警报装置，毛贼们就肆无忌惮来了一个“感恩节聚会”，开了一个“Party”。这些人在里面抽了烟，打了弹子球，浏览了每个抽屉检查了一下是否有遗留的现金。 (想得美，Peter找了好几年也没找到一毛钱 !) 做了饭，还上了厕所。临走的时候，拿走了卷烟机器，顺带两包烟丝。(不知为啥，还给Peter留了两包。) 还把门边砸碎的玻璃扫到一起 ！(什么心态！) 最后把Peter的丰田吉普车开走了！还算有良心，倒是还不忘把车库门关了起来。

虽然报了经911, 大过节的，警察不是忙着在感恩节游行现场维持秩序，就是在家吃火鸡，小帅在公司等了五个小时他们才姗姗来迟。芝加哥的警察太有经验了，一看事情已经发生，没出人命， 就丢了几件小东西，外加一辆破车，见怪不怪，无所谓了。草草写了个报告，静等事态发展。

停在公司里吉普车被偷走了，车是全保，我们倒不担心，真丢了保险公司会赔。但是车钥匙上有家里的钥匙，保险单上有家里的地址。这可不得了，万一贼再找到家里来那损失就大了。于是我们当天晚上就把车库遥控器的密码换了，第二天早上又冲到“猴提包”买了四把新锁，把家里所有门的锁都换了。

刚到早上九点，就一切就绪，能做的防范工作都做了。这时电话响起，警方通知我们说，贼抓到了！ 吓了我们一跳，怎么这么快！我们当受害人还没当过瘾呢，就成了人间赢家了！原来是这个毛贼一天之内也就开了五十里地，还爆了一个车胎！半夜三更在Mariano's的停车场借光换车胎，离我们的公司只有二里地。结果被商店里值夜班的保安报了警。警察来了一查，这不是几个小时前刚刚报失的车吗？二话不说，抓起来！这可好，不光二十多年的老破车又回到了手里，连偷走的卷烟机，烟丝，剃须刀 这几位就组团出去遛了个弯，毫发无损，完璧归杨子公司，统统回到祖国的怀抱！

警察说这个贼是个惯犯，一个三十多岁的黑人，已经作案上百次，警察局就是他的第二故乡，局长就是他的老表，真是没办法。Peter第三天去公司视察，结果发现损失如下：厨房里少了两包方便面，八个鸡蛋，一个西红柿，三个土豆，外加一锅米饭；存钱小猪里的五块钱硬币被洗劫一空；抽屉里没有电池的手表顺走了一个；还有就是把桌球上的几个球都打进了球袋，顺便戳断了一根球杆！桌子上的电脑被毛贼推到一边，空出地方，方便吃饭！大门的玻璃被打破了，毛贼进来之后，还找了个扫帚把碎玻璃都扫到了一边，怕再钻出去的时候扎脚！也难怪Peter就是懒得装警报系统，让个贼进到店里开了一个大Party，也没丢什么东西。贼还在想，TNND, 来晚了！

星期一的早上，被打碎的大门修好了，不用玻璃了，装的是树脂材料，用大炮轰才会破。大玻璃窗上也装上了铁栅栏，玻璃碎了人也进不来。真是武装到了牙齿。于是一切就绪，照旧开门营业！

家里在十月底的时候装了警报系统，当时是因为马路对面两家人被入室盗窃。我跟Peter说让他也给公司装上，他说地毯公司没什么可偷的，用不着。我说装个摄像头起个威慑作用，他说没用，看见贼进去了也晚了。结果就是：贼来了，在公司里开Party，我们还啥都不知道！还是第二天早上，邻居出来看见公司大门的玻璃给砸破了，给我们打了电话, 我们这才知道公司遭了窃！

警报系统公司的人曾对我说，太多的人家，是在被盗的第二天给他们打的电话，要装警报系统。虽然亡羊补牢，犹未为晚，我们也在最短的时间内采取了所有的行动，但是教训啊，还是防患于未然比较好啊！不然想起来就膈应人，被人侵犯了地盘，你还不知道是谁！虽然损失不大，只有仨瓜两枣，那也是俺的仨瓜两枣啊！

这就是我们的感恩节周末，整整三天，焦头烂额鸡飞狗跳兵荒马乱的！

新冠爆發以來，從夜夜難熬，度日如年起，到如今竟然已經快滿三年了。雖然美國大部分已經躺平了，但自家回歸正常生活的願景，卻仍然是遙遙無期。加油站早已沒人帶口罩了，除了我。超市也只剩下小貓三兩隻的蒙面俠，包括我。餐館的熱鬧似乎也趨於正常，除了外賣的價格令人慘不忍睹。

想當年因為新冠病毒而頒布居家禁閉令, 加州當屬全美第一，始於2020年3月19日。繼舊金山封市之後，洛衫磯自然不甘落後。從此開始了，居家禁閉，足不出戶的日子。為避免無聊以至老年癡呆，因此每日撰寫旅遊日記。内容包括豪華國際遊──前後院，以及經濟國内行──樓上下房間外加浴室及車庫。日記始於2020年3月23日，自己悲慘的叫它做“新冠禁閉日記”。自此，2020年3月23日就以DayX代替，而禁閉累計的天數也就記在 DayX之後。當然，此日記非彼日記，完全無法和“安妮日記”相提並論，但卻也有它特殊的地方。因為自知文筆欠佳，加上平日喜歡照像，所以自然而然就用相機來代筆了。

每天24小時的居家禁閉，日子就這樣渾渾噩噩的過了一年。到了2021年的春天。疫情好像有些趨緩的跡象。那顆被禁閉折磨得快要停擺的心，似乎有了些發芽的悸動。在和老友的連繫之下，終於有了一個“衝破新冠禁閉”的衝動。而在2021年4月20日，星期二，在居家禁閉後的第394天，我們終於勇敢的踏出了“衝破新冠禁閉第一步”。

在Wilbur-Tampa park，我們終於呼吸到，離別一年多後，第一口郊外新鮮的空氣。我們並不是悠閒的在小小的公園裡蕩漾，我們選擇的是在以公園為起點的爬山步道。有山，卻沒有水。有山坡，也有低谷。有剛發的嫩芽，也有那經冬的枯枝。有去夏野火的足跡，也有那越冬的新綠。有一大片告別了南加夏秋冬的枯草，也有那些剛剛露出頭角的野花。

啊，衝破新冠禁閉第一步，感覺真好！

點擊此處進入 衝破新冠禁閉第一步 Wilbur-Tampa park   04-20-2021 Day X+394

I stand as a golden warrior

armed w my stethoscope as my sword

my fingers palpate arteries 

touching pressure points like ancient kung fu

everyday I go to the hospital and see my patients who somehow have gotten too sick to make it at home

everyday I go to clinic 

I try to put my finger in the dam of time and stop the flow of destiny 

as each and everyone of us is forced to face his maker

some of us sooner than others

I try and see my patients diligently 

waving my stethoscope 

palpating pulses 

yet soon I realize 

the patients I saw years ago 

are slowly being replaced by a new batch of patients

those that were too sick slowly

disappear 

they are my friends

they visit me every six months or every year, some that are sicker more often

yet when they go I feel the void

my staff will say, I wonder how jane is doing

then we find that she has passed away

they who pass sometimes go quietly, slipping into death's embrace without a goodbye, leaving me to slowly absorb the news

some go loudly and I fight the fight with them

trying my best to plug the crack in the dam of time 

create order from the entropy of death

I stand a warrior humbled by the unstoppable power of deaths embrace yet struggling to make those around me live a few more precious moments in this world we know and love

無窮的魅力，奪目的光彩，舉世的名氣，不盡的財富……

都已  隨風而逝 (主文請點擊此處)

回目錄  Return to Table of Contains

附注：這篇是從我的 新冠日記 中撕下的一頁。其中有些字句看似與主文無關，可能引起困擾，特別在此稍稍解釋一下。標題內Day X+966 字樣，其中Day X指的是新冠日記開始的一天，也就是03/23/2020. 966 指的是到這篇日記為止，已經過了966天了。至於“衝破新冠禁閉第七十二步”字樣，則是因為在疫情初期，人心惶惶，故居家禁閉，足不出戶。等到疫情稍緩，忍不住每星期往戶外出遊一次。所以，這是第七十二次跑出家門。

先父早年從北京大學畢業後，留學法國研習世界各國政府/政治/行政法/憲法，浸潤西歐人文鼎盛科學發達社會長達八年(1928-1937)，飽受自由平等民主開放風氣薰陶。他秉性豁達開朗，思想淡泊清高，返國之後用其所學終身從事教職，授課著述引以為樂。他認為男女結婚生育子女夫妻都有功勞，正好先母姓臧，寓‘佳善’之意，於是為子女命名時把妻子的姓也用在其中。再者男女一視平等，故男孩女兒不分性別皆以排行命名。這樣做不但公平而且省事，可說是一勞永逸。我們家六個兄弟姐妹依次是左大臧（兄），左次臧（姐），左四臧，左五臧（弟），左六臧（妹），左七臧（妹）；三臧從缺，因為很小就在抗戰時期醫藥缺乏因病夭折了。臧字比較罕見，常有人把它念/寫成唐三藏的藏，我就跟他們說，三臧被戴上草織唐僧帽，老早就到西天取經去了。

為子女命名如斯，乍看似乎簡單，其實不但經過深謀遠慮,並且蘊藏不少玄機。小時候我們曾問如何為第十一個或更多的弟妹命名，老爸笑說他雖然喜歡孩子，覺得多多益善，但深感不可過分累苦母親，計畫過最多養育十個子女，萬一意外超生，也已經胸有成竹備有良策--中國傳統歷來使用的陰曆每個月二十九或三十天，每一天都有個代字，十一日代字為'真'，十二日代字是'仁'…等等，都是寓意甚佳的字，可以順序用來取名。此外，老爸還說，他與母親結婚時也已看中了她的姓，換成姓王，姓馬或姓牛的女士，再怎麽美好可愛他也不會娶她。想想看，家裡孩子若取名為大王，二王，三王，四王，左家豈不成了梁山泊紮寨為營聚眾稱王的強盜窩了？若娶姓牛姓馬女子為妻，則一家眾孩兒冠上母姓，以大牛，二牛，三馬，四馬命名也實在不登大雅，萬萬不可。還有，中文橫著寫，舊式念法是從右至左，新式念法卻是從左至右，我們家孩子姓名可是左右逢源，怎麼念都不錯, 別致響亮意義明顯。聽老爸那麼一番說笑解釋，真是既高興又佩服，覺得他不但思路開放創新，邏輯慎密明晰，還十分有趣味和幽默，也就更加喜愛'左四臧'這個父母給取的好名字。

念初中二年級時年方十三，即以行為老成持重，言語老氣橫秋，在班上德高望重，贏得同學們以‘老左’ 暱稱。從此以老左為名行世，欣然自得至今。現在真正步入老境，老左之名更像雙舒服合腳的舊鞋，穿得合意順遂心安理得。

念中學時英文程度不怎麽樣。雖然常看美國電影，但要跟上劇情發展，必得全心貫注看中文字幕，耳裡雖聽著英語對白，無異於鴨子聽雷，全是沒有意義的噪音，根本進不到腦子裡。另外雖也常聽美軍電臺播放的英文流行歌，主要是跟時髦趕熱鬧，聽的是曲調勁道，歌詞則一知半解懂點就行。反正進台大外文系之前，沒有跟活生生的洋人面對面用英語講過話。

大一英語講師Mother Josephine 是一位祖籍為愛爾蘭的天主教美國耶穌會修女，只見她頭髮被潔白挺括的修女頭巾包得一絲不漏，不知是否髮色如金。但看那雙犀利如鷹碧藍似海的眼睛和那巨如懸膽的隆鼻，絕對是位如假包換的西蠻鳩舌之人。她不諳漢語發音，無法在授課時點叫學生中文姓名，乃決定第一堂課時為班上六十幾名學生各取一英文叫名，以後可在課堂上使用。遂在黑板上男左女右分成兩列，按字母順序寫下數十個天主教常用教名，由各生逐個起立自選其一。

不巧在下當日進課堂較遲，離後門較近出入方便且不惹眼的好位子都已被先到同學坐滿，只好坐在前頭。尚未把洋人老師那一番嘰裡咕嚕迅速流利的美式英語聽得十分明白，就已經被她纖指點到，得起立自選叫名了。幸好咱家從小練就大敵當前面不改色的氣概，腦袋瓜也還算好使，臨到緊急關頭時，往往能兵來將擋水來土掩，履險如夷從容過關。當下不慌不張昂然起立，鎮靜自若的眼望黑板，從A往下逐字掃描，很快就瞧到個雖然沒見過，但可能跟天使有點關係的名字Angela。三個音節的字，默念起來雖略為有點繞口, 但還不至於舌頭打結，聽著雖不怎麼鏗鏘悅耳，倒也還抑揚有致；六個字母寫起來也不怕太長太費勁，腦子裡飛快的轉了轉，迅速盤算了一下，覺得那名字挺好；更何況還有指望不須上教堂就能跟天上使者攀上點親，於是速戰速決不再遲疑，當機立斷選定了它。

那個年代中英文音譯用的是Wade-Giles Romanization System， 左姓拼成為Tso ，從此只要使用英文或跟不會說中文的人打交道，就以Angela Tso 為名。後來到了美國，陰錯陽差糊裡糊塗嫁了個姓劉原籍廣東臺山的華僑；臺山話把劉念成陸，英文再音譯為Lew, 既入美境乃隨其當年之俗，女子婚後必改冠夫姓，Angela Lew 就這樣莫名其妙的變成我後來大半生的法定姓名了。家中那位良伴Bob (Robert Lew) 初離繈褓即隨母親移民赴美，從小在Boston 長大只會說英語，他的中文名字是劉偉男，人如其名高大魁梧有男子氣概，但是連劉字都不會念/寫，當然就只能用Angela 或Angie 稱呼我。

這幾十年來美國女權高張，現在許多婦女婚嫁之後仍保持原名不再改隨夫姓，可喜可羨。其實比較起來，我遠遠更喜歡那個父母親精心選取，自小愛用多年且甚有意義的中文名字，奈何生不逢時天命難違，那麼喜歡的中文名字從此就被撂開閒置束諸高閣。時運不濟夫復何言！

幸好，那口氣歎得並不算太長，比起當年王寶釵苦守寒窯十八載還短少一年。打從1966年赴美，'左四臧'就在冰箱裡冷藏了起來，直到1983年夏，由於工作和其他因緣，我開始經常前往中國大陸，走訪全國各處。頭十五年主要是到國內一些大學圖書館作報告開會辦培訓班，到1989年與加州北嶺州大(California State University Northridge) 幾位志同道合的同事一起創健華社以後，工作對象逐漸轉移到遍佈中國大陸的鄉鎮地方政府和公共圖書館。但不論如何，只要一進中國門，不管到何處辦何事見何人，我都又做回了'左四臧'。四十年來跑了三十多次，每次少至三星期多至兩個月，除了少數幾次是出公差有津貼之外，大多是自掏腰包買飛機票，有時甚至得自己解決食宿。至今孜孜不息樂此不疲，我想除了能為中國圖書館事業和提升農村百姓的知識/文化盡點力量之外，能讓'左四臧'解凍還魂，找回一點以'左四臧'行世為人的感覺，也是寶貴難得的精神報酬吧！天命固然難違，世事還更難料，您說說看，這可不是柳暗花明又一村嗎？

古人有言「大丈夫立不改名，行不改姓」，在下雖非大丈夫，且已多年使用三個名字並行於世，但數年前見到台大外文系66屆校友新建的tdww66.com 網頁上及老同學發來的電郵通訊錄中，誤將左四臧列成「左世臧」，想必是某位手民之誤。沒什麼大不了的關係，略用阿Q心態還可把它解釋成「左姓人氏，世間至善」，字面文雅含義堂皇，還真是個不賴的好名字。可惜它發音甚為困難，非常不易念得準確。不信您試試，頭尾兩個聲母皆為Z (ㄗ) 的左臧二字，中間夾上個得卷好舌頭再慢慢發Sh (ㄕ) 音的'世'字，可真比吃葡萄不吐葡萄皮還難。否則以敝人貪得無厭的天性和海納百川的度量，大可取之為號持而用之。

再說，那位雖無錢卻有閑,留下大量經典論語（其中當然不乏封建謬論和陳腐言語）的孔老夫子曾出「必也正名乎」之語。在下平生反覆思考掙扎多年，始終無法完全拋開中華封建傳統文化尊孔崇賢的思想包袱，覺得還是該努力做個君子。於是為此小文把名字澄清明白，請求各方網站站主及友人，有閒之時略抬貴手為敝人正個名。

左四臧/老左/Angela Lew

初寫於 2012 年冬，更補於2022年11月。