數日前，有聞華人遊客在紐約唐人街在找唐人街的拱門。他們在找唐人街的典型標誌。可惜，紐約唐人街沒有立上拱門，所以我就告訴他們這裡沒有拱門。紐約唐人街是我父母公婆漂雲過海到達的地點，而聽到他們來到這裡找拱門引起心底的波動。他們在找紐約市唐人街的墳墓。
拱門往往出現在唐人街變爲旅遊觀點的標誌，因爲華人社區自從清朝都沒有自立拱門為榮耀的標誌。拱門表示這塊地以往住過華人社區，而現在其蹤跡遺留著拱門及幾家商店餐廳。拱門是釘在墳蓋的最後兩釘子，標誌著華人留下的微少沉澱。
貴族化，不但使唐人街日益衰弱，其後果也在很多唐人心中深刻絕望的痕跡。即是民衆跟富有鬥爭的現實是慘敗。
但是唐人街還沒到這個絕望的現實。釘子還沒砍下。過去十年中，紐約市唐人人口增長了30%以上。紐約市唐人街卻減少了10%。皇后區和佈碌輪區的唐人去增加的人口很快。表明貴族化在影響紐約市唐人街的住民，而其住民在力奮富有財產的壓迫。幸而有組織（如CAAAV唐人住客協會）在推動唐人街的市民來爭取其權益，團結奮鬥無所不爲、貪財好奢分子。
我爸媽告訴我，不要忘記自己的來源，不要忘恩負義。唐人街是華人社區的重要基地，而我不想看到墳蓋最後兩個釘子給砍下來。爭取的是工作階層的基地，爭取的是人民的力量，爭取的是生命樂趣的基本--即作爲人的互相資扶的基本責任。
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Pigeon Poop
On quite the quiet afternoon of non-committal meetings, I walked in the park off 8th avenue. Whereupon entering the park, the fortune of pigeon poop on my head touched lightly on the front fluff of my hair, shielding the green splatter from oozing down my face. And thereupon I sat down, unfluffed by my good fortune, opened my bag, and cleaned up the pot of gold dumped on me.
For some melancholic reason, today's been a reflective one, of the past that never ceases to dump upon me again. Yet, each time my reaction differs from the previous, and I believe some call this development. Funny that development doesn't necessarily mean progress and improvement as it is generally understood in modern day parlance. Or maybe that is what people are insinuating when they note this. Nonetheless, I can't believe that development necessitates progress and improvement as our lives today clearly indicate.
Looking through blacked out glasses, I read for a bit, and then looked up to watch the leaves wavering thoughtfully as clouds stretched and distorted in the background, finally bursting into clarity, through which I saw the clear blue sky that I probably did not have to see, in fact, to know it was there waiting for me all along.
On that note, a pigeon wafted not so ungracefully up to the branch floating above my head, and I hesitated as the bough seemed to weigh pensively under the weight of its new visitor. I zipped up my bag, readying to flee the scene in fear of another lucky charm bestowing itself upon my head. But I waited and stared upwards at the fowl anus aimed directly at my face at that moment, just to tempt the fates and fortune. A breeze blew by and the pigeon fluttered off, and I relaxed.
While I stared intently at the various muses that stopped or floated by to inspire my insipid thoughts, I breathed slightly and crossed my legs, lifting them from the shallow puddle under the bench. As I remained uninspired, another pigeon happened upon the same bough above, and I again stared fate in the ass. Unfortunately, I wasn't so brave as to be too much the temptress, so this time I did pack up and leave promptly, smiling to myself at the decision to leave that fortunate spot, fortunate enough to avoid the mess. Some might call this development, but, again, I'm not so sure it was the right action to take, and not so sure that consequences would have been as unfavorable as I thought they might have been.
For some melancholic reason, today's been a reflective one, of the past that never ceases to dump upon me again. Yet, each time my reaction differs from the previous, and I believe some call this development. Funny that development doesn't necessarily mean progress and improvement as it is generally understood in modern day parlance. Or maybe that is what people are insinuating when they note this. Nonetheless, I can't believe that development necessitates progress and improvement as our lives today clearly indicate.
Looking through blacked out glasses, I read for a bit, and then looked up to watch the leaves wavering thoughtfully as clouds stretched and distorted in the background, finally bursting into clarity, through which I saw the clear blue sky that I probably did not have to see, in fact, to know it was there waiting for me all along.
On that note, a pigeon wafted not so ungracefully up to the branch floating above my head, and I hesitated as the bough seemed to weigh pensively under the weight of its new visitor. I zipped up my bag, readying to flee the scene in fear of another lucky charm bestowing itself upon my head. But I waited and stared upwards at the fowl anus aimed directly at my face at that moment, just to tempt the fates and fortune. A breeze blew by and the pigeon fluttered off, and I relaxed.
While I stared intently at the various muses that stopped or floated by to inspire my insipid thoughts, I breathed slightly and crossed my legs, lifting them from the shallow puddle under the bench. As I remained uninspired, another pigeon happened upon the same bough above, and I again stared fate in the ass. Unfortunately, I wasn't so brave as to be too much the temptress, so this time I did pack up and leave promptly, smiling to myself at the decision to leave that fortunate spot, fortunate enough to avoid the mess. Some might call this development, but, again, I'm not so sure it was the right action to take, and not so sure that consequences would have been as unfavorable as I thought they might have been.
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