A Date with Tea; A Tea with Dates

Over here the height of summer usually signifies the time for the Duanwu Festival 端午节, more popularly known as the Dragon Boat Festival. Arguably the longest day for those of us in the northern hemisphere - like its celebratory winter counterpart on the far side of December.

Generally I don't return for this particular festival since it's usually right smack dab in the middle of the year - usually a time for job transfers in my line of work. Can't very well go jauntering about when half the department's been emptied for some reason or other.

My cousin however picked just that time of the year for her wedding dinner. It's hard ( impossible? ) to say no to Lispy Lori, especially when she announced the date an entire year back just to pre-book all of us to attend.

And hey, I love weddings :)


Now exactly where am I supposed to stand?
Trouble is attending a wedding these days is just fraught with unexpected difficulties. For unmarried fellows past the age of thirty, we have to endure endless cross-examinations by curious relatives on the state of our bachelorhood, along with the unforeseen social solecisms that seem to creep up everywhere when someone much younger than us ties the knot.

For instance the tea ceremony prior to the wedding - one of the most significant events in a Chinese wedding, ostensibly a wonderful way to introduce a new member to the extended family. Now do I receive the tea along with the proferred greetings as an elder in the family eventhough I am technically still unmarried, or do I brave the horrified stares of the children to stand in wait for the prerequisite red packets from the bride and groom? Should it go by precedence of age or marriage eligibility?

Unfortunately with the emphasis on marriage and children as one of the tenets of a Chinese Confucian society, a man past the age of thirty and unmarried is considered quite the novel oddity. Where do we stand in the larger scheme of things?

Surely an existential dilemma to be solved on another day - especially since Lori solved the smaller problem for me.

Lori : There's simply no question about it. You're sitting and I'm serving you tea.
Paul : Is that how it's always been done?
Lori : Do I look like I care about how it's always been done? It's my wedding and I'll serve you tea if I want to.
Paul : Wow. Bridezilla.
Lori : It had better be a big red packet though.

Guess I worried for no reason at all. So yes, I drank the sweet tea Lori handed to me on a porcelain platter. And yes - need you ask? - she got a big red packet in return.

The Good Life

Let's face it for generations ethnic Chinese - even those who have immigrated - have always been stereotyped as slick cutthroat businessmen who would sooner sell their aging mother to make a fast buck. With the Chinese diaspora frequently dubbed the Jews of Asia, there is a notion that the Chinese tend to gravitate towards trading and finance. Though I'm sure there are exceptions, it is hard to blame the rest of the world for holding to such a skewed, prejudiced opinion of the much maligned race.

Even I have inadvertently added to this erroneous perception by betraying my mercantile roots with a careless comment.

Nurse : The female attendant upstairs sells the boiled eggs for only fifty cents.
Paul : We should sell ours for forty-five cents each to undercut her and steal her regular customers.
Nurse : Good grief!
Paul : And offer little complimentary packets of soy sauce and pepper!
Nurse : OMG You're so Chinese!

So perhaps it's a bit hard to deny that Chinese brains are uniquely wired for business.


How about a noodle shop?
Although there are a few exceptions like I said. My cousin in Bangkok to name one. The slick snake-oil salesman I once mentioned. Desperate to taste the good life yet not desperate enough to work hard at it. Hence the many, many... many failed business enterprises.

Always in search of the next get-rich-quick scheme, this time around Snake has decided to invest in a noodle shack.

Snake : Yes, a noodle shack.
Paul : But you can't cook!
Snake : I just learnt to cook six months back.
Paul : And you're now a master chef?
Snake : This is my dream! To open a chain of noodle shacks!
Paul : Didn't you dream of trading cellphones a year back?
Snake : Ah, but that was last year!
Paul : The airport taxi scheme before that?
Snake : All terribly unworthy of my new dream!

All in search of the good life. Fortunately he hasn't dared hit me up to provide seed money for one of his hare-brained experiments.


Short of peddling from a wildly arrayed tuk tuk to attract tourists ( nothing like cute gimmicks! ), I doubt this dubious venture is going to succeed. I foresee some minor stumbling block that would force the vacillating Snake to throw his hands up in frustration and surrender.

Obviously not all Chinese are meant for the trade.

Xavier

After last night, I have unwittingly developed a crush on a bald paraplegic in a wheelchair.

Albeit when he was years younger with a full head of hair.

Obviously talking about the iconic Charles Xavier from the X-Men movie franchise who headlines the recent addition this summer. Rather than the aging scholarly professor in chequered tweed we're used to, the Xavier here in the movie is a sweet young charmer who downs a yard of ale before chatting up girls down the pub with a tired pick-up line about genetics.

*swoon* He doesn't even need to use his psychic mind tricks on me.

Though I doubt Xavier would return my amorous feelings since
a) with all the desperate flirtation going on with random university co-eds, he's most likely heterosexual - despite the peculiar spark of bromance with his magnetic best friend Erik Lensherr
b) my alter ego in a comics universe would probably be an evil, heartless villain hell-bent on ruling the world. Not exactly the sort to appeal to a zen do-gooder like Xavier.

Still, a man can dream.


Whoa. You think I can get into that position? Even I'm not that bendy!
And when Charles Xavier looks like James McAvoy, those dreams can easily border on the lecherous. Despite the fact that the more obvious eye-candy in the movie would be the intensely brooding, unbelievably suave bad-ass antihero Eric Lehnsherr, I've always had a thing for brainy men.

And a soft spot for sweater vests.

Xavier can talk to me all he wants about Darwinian theories.

For those wondering... X-men First Class charts the epic beginning of the X-Men saga with a focus on the relationship between the founders Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr aka “Magneto”, and reveals a secret revisionist history of famous global events. Seriously! The Cuban Missile Crisis? Yet somehow they make the improbable - even the retro surroundings - all work almost seamlessly.

Mercy

Before I begin, let me proffer my sincerest apologies to Charming Calvin.

Each time we pay a visit to Bangkok, I usually have an entire itinerary that revolves around one thing, and one thing only. And that's ... shopping. That's all. Unlike what the more prurient-minded would think, it's definitely not sexy mocha-skinned Thai boys gyrating in skimpy G-strings on my lap. Fear of sexually transmitted disease ( herpes? ) keeps me away from the scrumptious lot - as well as the fact that Charming Calvin probably wouldn't approve of me slipping dollar bills into spandex-clad bottoms.

Though maybe a threesome one day?

Sorry. Can't help the lecherous thoughts! With the seriously fit Thai college boys all dressed in supertight shirts and trousers two sizes too small, it's hard to think of anything else.

So in lieu of delicious toyboys from sunrise till sunset, I substitute that with lots and lots of shopping. Much more fun a pasttime ever since I got a bump in my salary. Since Calvin pretty much doesn't have much of a say in the daily schedule, he mostly gets dragged along as I finish my frenetic supermarket sweep of the city. For all he knows, Bangkok is a city full of air-conditioned department stores, jam-packed night markets and Chatuchak.


An invitation to see Bangkok?
As a kid, I pretty much thought the same! Which is why this time I gave him a choice.

Paul : You get one morning.
Calvin : To do what?
Paul : To do some terribly touristy thing. Temples, museums and klongs.
Calvin : We can cover all that in one morning?
Paul : Half a day! You'd better appreciate the hell out of the museums!

A boon begrudgingly given obviously.

So the better part of Saturday morning was spent touring the historic enclave of Rattanakosin stops at the Grand Palace and the various temples. Even an hour's boatride to the nearest floating market. All in the sweltering heat of a Bangkok summer. With the reflective gleam of the gilded roofs - and the mirror-still waters of the klongs, it felt like we were both being roasted alive on a steaming brazier in the middle of a desert.

Enough to make us both cry for mercy by noon!

We couldn't hurry back fast enough to the creature comforts of the modern mall galleria. Shopper like me, I still managed to purchase a paper umbrella to combat the heat!

Say All I Need

It took almost five years but I finally made it back - this time with Charming Calvin in tow as I promised.

It was starting to look like mission impossible. A year back when I bravely made the attempt, an entire squad of stern-faced riot police blocked our way. And behind them a furious red sea of anarchists raged in what seemed like an imsurmountable obstacle. Short of ricocheting off a slingshot from the nearest skyscraper, I don't think I would have made it past those barriers to the intended target.

Even had I made the foolhardy attempt, I probably would have been shot by the boys in blue or the rioters in red anyway.


Hope that we make it to the shrine this time!
Which is why I took the safer route around and avoided the proposed destination.

Doesn't mean I gave up on going to the Erawan Shrine. After all I don't make promises lightly. Five years ago I actually made a wish at the very same shrine - that actually did come true not very long after.

In return I said I would bring Charming Calvin to the shrine and so I have.