Walking on frozen lava (Lanzarote, Spain)

New boyfriend and I had gone out to Lanzarote for our first Xmas together.

    Being Swiss, he was very keen on doing lots of walking.  I'd packed a new pair of Korean-made gym shoes for that because they were light.

    For our ten days there, we spent:

* the first three days in a hired car (to get us from the airport to the southern end of the island where our rented chalet was, then to get to scenic spots that couldn't be reached by public transport without a hassle); 

* the middle three days on foot exploring the local area around the rented chalet (lots of Scandinavians there); 

and 

* the last three in a hired car (to cover more of the island we didn't manage to in the first three days, and to get us to the airport at the end).

    For the middle three days, we were walking across volcanic landscape, which was a novelty for both of us.

    Michael the Swiss was particularly taken by the lava flows that terminated in a sharp drop when they reached the sea and got frozen in their tracks, and couldn't resist climbing down to swim in the hollows with the sea water crashing onto the walls of frozen lava.

    Back from the Xmas break, I was walking home from the Tube station on a wet day when I felt my feet getting wetter and wetter on the way.  Examined the soles of the gym shoes (the new ones I'd taken out to Lanzarote) when I got back and found them riddled with slits, which was the cause of the seepage.

    The volcanic landscape we'd traversed on those three days on foot had pierced the soles of the brand new gym shoes like I'd been walking over ground that was strewn with knife blades!

(Lanzarote, 1987 / London, 1988)

See also Uninvited dinner guests:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2024/12/uninvited-dinner-guests-lanzarote.html 

Chinese sayings: 48 (嫁出去的女兒潑出去的水 / 嫁出去的女儿泼出去的水)

 

This is a Chinese expression that's traced back to 清朝 / Qīng cháo / Qing dynasty (1644–1911), according to my googling efforts, so it's not that old.

    It is often said of daughters.

嫁出去的女兒潑出去的水 / 嫁出去的女儿泼出去的水

jià-chū-qù de nǚ'ér, pō-chū-qù de shuǐ

A daughter who has married (left the family) is water that's been thrown out.

It means that the relationship has been severed, they are no longer a part of the family, therefore there's no obligation on either side -- emotionally or financially.

Some Chinese practices: 07 (Almost default emotional ranking)

 

This blog is (as has often been the case) inspired by a WhatsApp texting conversation with my old friend who is visiting his mother in Rome.

    He has two younger siblings (a brother and a sister), so I asked which one of them is the closest to the mother.  He came back with their geographical proximity to her, so I had to explain that I was looking for an emotional perspective, adding what the default situation is in a lot of Chinese families.

    There are five of us children in my family, with four girls and a boy.  

    By default, the boy, especially if he is the only one, is the favourite.

    Being the youngest, I'm also, by default, a favourite.

    Another criterion is:  scholastic performance.  Good school results almost always ensure one's place in the heart(s) of the parent(s), if not the extended family as well.

    I remember wondering, when I was still at school: "What if I was born ugly and stupid?"

Chinese sayings: 48 (吠非其主)

 

吠非其主

fèi fēi qí zhǔ

"bark not [at] its master"

I'd written a blog a while back about the hunting dogs on the French farm near the Pyrénées:  that they only barked at people and cars outside the family, so the mistress of the farm didn't need to look up at the sound of every approaching car and human.

    I used to think it was only those dogs that did that, but obviously I don't know enough about dogs.

    There's a Chinese saying covering this already: 吠非其主, and going as far as back the Han dynasty.

司馬遷《史記·淮陰侯列傳》

司马迁《史记·淮阴侯列传》

The Biographies of the Marquis of Huaiyin (around the early Western Han period, 202 —8 BC) 

in Sima Qian's Records of the Grand Historian

“跖之狗吠尧，尧非不仁，狗固吠非其主”，

(google translate)  

Quote 

The dog of Zhi barked at Yao, not because Yao was unkind, but because the dog barked at someone who was not its master. 

Unquote

(堯帝 / 尧帝 / Yáo Dì / Emperor Yao, traditionally c. 2356 – 2255 BCE, was a legendary Chinese ruler, considered by some sources as one of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.)

See also They don't bark at family:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2025/01/they-dont-bark-at-family-france.html 

Moral dilemma

 

One of my reservations about giving money to homeless people is that they might spend it on alcohol or drugs.

    I often play the devil's advocate to the stance people take on any subject, especially with my students as part of the lesson (for language usage and articulation).

    As a Libran, always trying to see the other side of the argument, I do it to myself as well.

    On the subject of homeless people buying alcohol or drugs, my devil's advocate question to myself is:  "What's wrong with that?  Their lives are miserable enough, so who are we to say they shouldn't try and numb the pain in this way?  If they prefer emotional painkillers to food, it's their choice."

    It's not always easy to stand that far back and distance oneself that much, though.

    Someone I know who's been on state benefits for years went and got a tattoo with "the money that the government owed me".  Owed her!?  I was shocked by her attitude: it's money the government owed her.

    She gets free housing, and the rest of the state benefits package, yet she buys expensive snacks (note: snacks, not staples) for her two dogs -- things like dried liver sausage (which googling tells me is £10–£35 per kg).

    Am I to tell myself that I shouldn't object to her spending my tax money on a tattoo and expensive dried liver sausage snacks for her two dogs (among other things -- a long list)?

Chinese sayings: 47 (心有餘悸 / 心有余悸 [C])

This is the third blog in this mini series.

    For ease of reference and background understanding, I reproduce the saying here, with its explanation, for those who have not started with the first blog in this mini series.

心有餘悸 / 心有余悸

xīn yǒu yú jì

"heart has remaining palpitations"

This saying approximates to PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

(from googling) 心中仍留有余悸，形象地描绘了人在遭受惊吓事件后，那种残余的恐惧或不安感。这是更贴切地描述 PTSD 患者内心感受的表达。

(google translate) Quote The lingering fear vividly depicts the residual fear or unease a person experiences after a frightening event. This is a more accurate description of the inner feelings of PTSD patients. Unquote

I've been watching a mainland Chinese drama series, set between 1979 and 1992 around a few families living in the same alley in Suzhou.

    The two main families living next door to each other in the same courtyard, and who get on well, are:

(i) a teacher, his textile factory worker wife, and their two children (son and daughter, both scholastically good performers);

(ii) an engineer, his textile factory worker wife, and their son.

    The teacher's parents treat their three children unfairly:  the  eldest son (the teacher) is expected to shoulder the entire responsibility of being a filial son to his parents (giving them all his pay), as well as a supportive brother to his younger siblings (being asked to let their children go and stay at his already overcrowded place during the school holidays, for him to give them extra tuition for their exams).

    The teacher's wife, as the outsider (being the daughter-in-law), is treated even more unfairly, time after time after time.  For example, she cooks the food for the family gathering, yet is told to go and eat it in the kitchen because there's no more space at the main and side tables.  The grandchildren, one generation down, are accorded more respect than she is.

    The teacher's daughter says to the engineer's son, who is her boyfriend at this point of the story -- they are both university age now:

妈对别人好，但要[是]别人对不起她了，她也不会再真心对那个人；一旦伤了妈妈的心，她就再也不会真心实意地对那个人了。

(google translate) Quote My mother is kind to others, but if someone wrongs her, she will no longer be sincere to that person; once someone hurts my mother's heart, she will never be sincere to that person again. Unquote

    The snippet above could've been written with me in mind.

    I've been soul-searching over the last 12 months about getting shouted at unfairly as a guest with no option to leave.  Was / am I being too sensitive?  What's wrong with getting shouted at (even if unfairly)?  What's wrong with being trapped under someone's roof, unable to go back to my own space to cry after being made to feel so unwelcome?  Am I wrong feeling that I'd been stupid to have put their interests first, every single time, and yet when it came to mine, they'd had no qualms in abandoning me?  

    The abandoned bit:  I'd asked the wife to help me with applying for an e-visa (which she had to do as well) -- to do it together as I'm very bad with bureaucracy (it has the "cockroach effect" on me).  She went ahead and did hers (/theirs) on her own, and left me high and dry.

    I'd said I might want to move back to Singapore, but I'd need to go out there and stay for a while, to do the research and make the enquiries, adding that I have nowhere to stay in Singapore because I only have one nephew there who has a studio flat.  They have a four-bed flat in Singapore, left empty for yonks throughout the year except when they're visiting (for a few weeks each year, if that), yet she specified that I could stay there "if we're there".

    I'd been house-sitting for them for the last few winters, which means that when they're out there, I'd be house-sitting here for them, so we would never be in Singapore at the same time, therefore the answer is no.

    When I mentioned this to a friend, without even seeking an opinion, the friend immediately said, "They don't trust you to stay in their flat over there."

    Although a bit rusty finding my way around Singapore, I am still not a total stranger to the languages and culture there, so I won't need any of her relatives over there (a huge extended clan who are very rich) to look after me -- if that's what she was thinking.  She only needed to arrange for the keys to get into my hands.  But no, she wouldn't do even that.

    I did some googling on house-sitting charges after Christmas, and they were, for the most basic house-sitting service, easily something like ￡1,000 to ￡1,500 for the three months (the last time I looked), if not more (I've been so upset that I haven't gone to check them out again, as thinking about it brings up the bile, and I hate controversies as well).

    The above were basic house-sitting charges.  No extra chores thrown in, like picking up their medicines (for all sorts of age-related conditions) from their appointed chemist, cutting out all the extra blister pack around every single pill to reduce the weight / postage, using sticky tape to tape down the individual pills onto a sheet of A4 paper, weighing them up together with the envelope to make sure it didn't exceed a certain weight/charge, then taking that to the post office or some courier service locker arrangement (key in the codes, etc, etc) to drop them off.

    Nor extra chores like sorting out their suddenly defunct deep freezers and the resultant defrosted and rotting food in them, plus cleaning out the deep freezers.

    Nor the two leaky ceiling incidents, both late at night.

    The first leak was down the side wall, where the only socket was.  I had to pull the bed away from the wall, to make room for an empty plastic container (the face cream type) to be fitted over and around the socket area, wrap and tie a few plastic bags around this container, then push the bed back against the wall to wedge it in, pile up more plastic bags, towels and newspapers over this wodge to absorb any subsequent leaks that might travel down the wall.  I was worried sick that this incident might blow up the electricity supply in the whole four-bed house, and I'd then be without electricity.

    The second leak had travelled across the ceiling one quarter of the way into the room, and rain dripped onto my face at 2 a.m. while I was fast asleep in bed.  Again, a rude awakening.  I had to leap up and out of bed, pull all the bedding off, go and fetch as many containers/pots as possible to place on my bed to catch the drips.  Sleeping on the floor was the only bit that was not stressful.

    All this without being offered, never mind actually paid, a penny for my three-month stints (plural).  And yet she was not willing to offer me her four-bed flat in Singapore for me to stay in during my time researching the possibility of moving back to Singapore.  The sense of betrayal and abandonment hurts deeply.

    Of course, I'm to blame for being so stupid.  Stupid to be compassionate and kind.  (This old dog is trying to learn.)

    The bedroom I was given over the two winters had one radiator not working, the other one only came on twice a day.  A mainland Chinese friend had to donate her electric blanket during my second winter there, and even then I only used it when it was really cold.  The rest of the time, I'd pile all my clothes (sweaters, bath towel, trousers, winter coat) on top of my duvet, and wear a woolly hat and gloves in bed.  Another friend made me two beanbags (as hot water bottles, for heating up in the microwave -- to save money on heating up water in the kettle for filling up the standard hard rubber hot water bottles). 

    This is what I was doing for them: trying to save them all the pennies I could, yet she wouldn't let me stay in her empty four-bed flat in Singapore.

    Actually, my presence at Xmas being resented, and getting shouted at unfairly is not so hurtful in comparison. It's her betrayal that goes deeper.

    The snippet from the mainland Chinese series cited at the beginning of this blog: It reads almost like the writers for the series had known about my experiences with this couple and incorporated them into this particular segment, to stop me wondering if I might've been too sensitive feeling abandoned and betrayed, and to stop me feeling guilty about not being in touch again after getting shouted at on Boxing Day at their house.

    (Yes, she did try to text me on a few occasions since Xmas last year.  From what I could read in the first few words, a couple of them were to ask if I would house-sit for them again this winter, among other things.  Yes, again, it was to try and get ME to go and be their donkey, not to offer me support in any form, let alone monetary reward for my efforts thus far, or for the new house-sitting stint.  No, I didn't open the texts, I only caught the first few words which was enough to send me plunging into another deep depression.)

(google translate) Quote My mother is kind to others, but if someone wrongs her, she will no longer be sincere to that person; once someone hurts my mother's heart, she will never be sincere to that person again. Unquote. 

Thank you, thank you, the writer(s) for the series.  Someone out there understands.

(London, 2021–2024)

Chinese sayings: 47 (心有餘悸 / 心有余悸 [B])

 

This is the second blog in this mini series.

    For ease of reference and background understanding, I reproduce the saying here, with its explanation, for those who have not started with the first blog in this mini series.

心有餘悸 / 心有余悸

xīn yǒu yú jì

"heart has remaining palpitations"

This saying approximates to PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

(from googling) 心中仍留有余悸，形象地描绘了人在遭受惊吓事件后，那种残余的恐惧或不安感。这是更贴切地描述 PTSD 患者内心感受的表达。

(google translate) Quote The lingering fear vividly depicts the residual fear or unease a person experiences after a frightening event. This is a more accurate description of the inner feelings of PTSD patients. Unquote

After a few years of interruption by Covid and the lockdown, I was invited again to Christmas dinner hosted by a gay couple who live in north London, like me.  The other couple are friends of even longer standing.  The place is walkable from my flat.

    A second invitation then surfaced from an elderly couple who live in south London, a long way from me.  They live alone, with their two sons on the other side of the world, so I felt sorry for them, and got out of the north London invite just to keep them company.

    I'd been helping the old couple out for a number of years:  started off as a massage for the wife's sprained ankle (with follow-up sessions, all free), then weeding and pruning their garden, after which it got stretched to housesitting for three months each time (for which they never offered a penny, but I don't start out helping people in expectation of repayment anyway).

    I then discovered that they weren't going to be spending Xmas on their own after all.  Their Eastern European handyman and his family (wife and four children) were coming as well.  So, they had plenty of company, and I wasn't needed at all then.

    The elderly husband is not interested in (and doesn't do) any socialising at all, apart from saying hello, so I thought I'd help out at the meal by asking the Eastern European guests how they spend Xmas in their own country (which day, what kind of food is eaten), just to liven things up a bit.

    This was later called "dominating the conversation", when I overheard the husband complaining to the wife about me asking the Eastern Europeans questions about their cultural practices.  (So, I should've just followed his lead and sat there quietly throughout the day.  Lesson learned -- except that I won't be putting my new skills into practice, because I won't be going to that house again, having been treated so shoddily and unjustly.)

    This elderly husband is a workaholic, and spends all his time at his computer and telephone running his property empire.  He'd been spending the months prior to Xmas shouting down the telephone.  Something to do with his property empire.  I'd even expressed concern to the wife on more than one occasion (whenever I delivered their fresh fruit and veg, sourced cheaply by me and lugged all the way across London on public transport), saying that he'd end up having a stroke at the rate he was going.

    So, by being there at Xmas, I ended up bearing the brunt of his stress and anger built up over months and months.

    (And no, I did NOT know at the outset how rich they were, with six properties in four different countries, some left empty for most of the year.  If I had known how rich they were, I'd have distanced myself as it's not my style at all at all to suck up to rich people, and also I'd know they'd be able to afford paid help.  My starting point was that they were old and would therefore need help.  Silly me, forgetting that money can buy a lot of things, so my free labour was wasted on the wrong people, the ones who didn't need it...)

    The final eruption, this time not even behind my back, was when I tried to make what I thought would be interesting conversation to him.

    He'd retained an empty 10L cooking oil plastic bottle for turning into a funnel -- he's into recycling, so am I.

    I thought I could ask him how he was going to make it (how deep/shallow, etc.), what he was going to use it for, since he was an engineer and would therefore be pleased to shower some of his expert knowledge on me.

    I'd only just started to say, "That funnel...," when he jumped in and started explaining about the little coffee funnel he was having trouble finding (must've been another source of irritation, now looking back in hindsight).

    Realising he'd got the wrong end of the stick, I said, "I haven't finished my sentence yet."

    I then got blasted with "YOU ARE SO RUDE!!!"

    Huh??  Rude for saying "I haven't finished my sentence yet"??  What's so rude about that?  And who was the rude one interrupting??

    I went silent, went up to my room (no trains back to my flat as it was Boxing Day), and cried myself to sleep.

    I'd turned down a fun Xmas meal elsewhere, with people who are sociable and welcoming, just to keep an old couple company because I felt sorry for them, but my presence was actually resented, and they had six other people to keep them company anyway.  Silly me.

    To top it all, I got shouted at, unfairly and as a guest, stuck under their roof because there were no trains back to north London.  I cried myself to sleep, and left the next morning as early as I could.

    The wife said, as I was getting ready to leave, that I got shouted at because he treated me as family:  "That's what he does with his siblings."  Wow, I should feel really honoured then.

    I'd been their donkey for three years, providing free massages (hourly charge of £55–£75 an hour outside), free gardening, sourcing cheap and good quality fresh fruit and veg (heavy to carry, and all the way across London to boot), just to save them a few pennies here and there (no, I was not paid for my trouble).

    This incident has put me off Xmas for life, not to mention helping old people out.  (Certainly not people who have six properties in four different countries around the world, two of which I know for sure are left empty for the whole year, just for them to stay in for a fortnight or three months whenever they are visiting.)

    This particular 心有餘悸 / 心有余悸 effect will stay with me for the rest of my life, I know.  The unfairness of being shouted at and called rude for saying "I haven't finished my sentence yet" still rankles a year on.  (Being trapped under their roof was also particularly traumatising, especially after everything I'd done for them -- free, for more than three years.)

(London, Xmas 2024)