I would cut her off

20 03 2010

Before I went to see On the Waterfront directed by Steven Berkoff tonight, I registered for the Master in Counselling, and it’s going to cost me an arm and a leg and perhaps even a kidney or two to pay for it. I’m really excited about it though; I think it’ll be really good for what I’m about to do, and where I want to go from here.

The play was very good, although the range of accents (which paralleled the range of immigrant accents one would expect from the docks) was a slight challenge to adjust to, and the portrayal of Edie was somewhat grating on the nerves, the sound, set, and not least of all the largely phenomenal acting were well worth the $480 ticket towards the centre of the 5th row. The beauty of the sheer inevitability of existence on the docks as the men lived and worked together was not lost; the sparse set constructed of a projected, changed Statue of Liberty and simple chairs emphasised the bleakness of their reality.

On a completely different note though, I came to the realisation tonight, as I was talking to him, that if I had a choice, I really would completely cut her out of my life without any hesitation. I am done with this crock of crap.


Hatred is not a family value

15 03 2010

I think one of the biggest difficulties in growing up bi-racial is the cultural differences between the parents and the children, magnified all the more so by the already-culturally-confused city of Hong Kong. My father, who hails from a very traditional, old school British home, really defines his family as the people to whom he is married and those he helped produce. He’s not close to his sister, and everything is done with us, his children, in mind. On the other hand, we have my very Confucian, traditionally-raised Chinese mother whose family consists of first, her brother, then her four younger sisters and husband at an equal level, then her children and various nieces and nephews at another equal level. It is, in short, a FUBAR situation that blows all other FUBAR situations out of the water.

My mother has a very strong, except replace “very” with “at times unnatural” bond with her many siblings. Over the years, it’s reached the point where we’ve steadily fought, and fought, and fought about them living with us and essentially not contributing to anything whatsoever. In the past year and a half my parents have twice come close to divorce just because of this same issue.

The Bible has it down: when a man marries a woman, the two become one and leave their old families behind to establish a new one in which they must create and learn new roles and responsibilities. The big-ass problem is when the separation doesn’t take place, and everything is affected by one party’s insistence that everything be done with consideration for the dependent spinster sibling in tow.

By this point, if I haven’t communicated my absolute loathing for this whole arrangement, I should just stop communicating altogether.