jetlagged

a week after the trip, reminiscing...

we speed off from JFK at more than 500 miles per hour 

in the middle of a tuesday. 

we boarded eagerly

because promise lay ahead. 

we fly over 

Canada 

the North Pole

Russia

says the live map on my screen. 

we pass the time watching 

the pixelated plane mosey over 

the pixelated earth. 

we pull up the shade sometimes

slowly, against the fierce glare of daylight

unchanging as the crackled, snow-white terrain

below.

we squint hard,

peer down,

close the shade. 

we turn haggardly 

to our meal trays and dull screens, 

count down the hours until the New World.

The Au Family

5.2.2015

Clearly, I won't be falling asleep this morning, as I've been awake since 4:30. 

Uncle Jackson drove us around yesterday for an accelerated guided tour of the must-see sights in Sydney. The Rock, Rose Bay, and Bondi Beach. A few of these places were really charming and I would have preferred to spend the day exploring the streets on foot. But, we were on a schedule to be back at Aunt Lillian's place for the big family party.

Uncle Joseph calls Lillian the General Manager of the Au Family. And manage she did. She started planning this party a month ago, and she impressively got almost everybody to show up-- all of nearly 40 people --and bring food! She's also an amazing cook, and clearly, a very successful businesswoman. Even her three kids-- Suzanne, Derek, and David -- are mature and helped with the party without direction. In fact, all of the kids I've met have the same sense of responsibility and respect instilled in them. 

The family trickled in. Leonard, Aunt Evelyn's son, was tasked with taking the photos. So I set up my camera and tripod next to his for the shoot. First the octogenarians, then my dad's generation, then mine, some of them holding babies. I would post the photos but they are trapped in my camera at the moment.

It's funny, when you look at all of us together in a room, you can see the various sets of physical features repeating and changing with the new blood that joins the gene pool each generation. Surprising similarities occur even across different branches. For example, Suzanne reminds me so much of Georgina; the fine details are different enough between them, but as an overall impression, I would have though they were sisters. They are second cousins, however. There's weirdly also a Spanish looking part of the family, and also an actual Spanish part of the family-- in-laws of course.

There was enough food to feed a small town, and I missed out on most of it, because there were so many people to talk to. Namely, I forgot to try the fantastic looking salmon which I had watched Aunt Fiona prepare. People kept pouring me sangria, so I had plenty of that. Drinking with family-- also a new experience! 

Technically, there are just 2 uncles and 3 aunts, and everyone else is a second or third cousin to me. But I'm supposed to just call them all Auntie or Uncle.

The evening was pretty surreal. Here were a room full of intimate strangers, very westernized yet very Chinese, speaking in a rather pleasant and kinda funny accent. With each new person, we introduced ourselves by explaining who our parents and grandparents were. I'm Maggie. My dad, Sagon, is Uncle Stephen's brother, and your Aunt Emily was my grandmother. A response I heard more than once was-- Aunt Emily was a lovely lady. It's true, she was genuinely classy. Anyway, the times I'd been at family parties of this magnitude and variety before tonight, they were other people's family. Tonight's experience revealed a world previously unknown yet so close and personal.

Other than everything I just mentioned, the night's highlights included Aunt Lillian's riveting telling of her and her sister's arrest and escape during a trip to Beijing at the height of the goverment's crackdown on Falun Gong in the 90s. It's too long to tell now, but it was pretty amazing stuff.

The other was the discovery that the German ancestry business is a running joke here among the family, sort of. It has repeatedly come up in conversations about our family ties. Great grandmother is supposedly half German. But people aren't sure it's true, because in old photos, she looks quite Chinese. She does look whiter than everyone else in the photos, but I'm not sure why no one else except for Aunt Evelyn seems sure of this information. My dad had first told me this years ago, but when asked recently he doesn't remember telling it and was surprised to hear it himself. It would make sense though-- some of these relatives sure don't look very Chinese. 

The rain in Spain-- no, Sydney.

It's been raining since we landed. For the last three days we've been in and out of different parts of the city and suburbs, seeing sights and snapping photos while dodging the intermittent rain. This rain is hampering my shooting a bit. It's warm enough, though, for it not to be miserable. They say it's the most rain Sydney has gotten in 25 years. In this case, I'll take it as a sign that the powers that be approve of my dad and I being here. 

On our second day here, Friday, we rode the train from Chatswood, where Aunt Evelyn lives, into the city. Chatswood is apparently another suburb populated by many Chinese, on the north side of Sydney. The train is sleek, clean, modern, and a double decker. From Circular Quay (pronounced "key", meaning "harbor"), we rode a ferry to Manly. We had a view of the entire bay as the ferry sailed out-- the Opera House and Harbour Bridge being the centerpieces of a landscape dotted with sailboats and harbours, a skyline as layered and expansive as Chicago's flanked by green hillsides painted with white houses with red tiled roofs. Manly is a small beach area, and like many beaches has a street lined with shops leading you up to the sand and surf. There were a few surfers in wetsuits out there trying to make something of the half-hearted waves. We took in the scene, took some photos and it started to rain again, so we backtracked up the street and stopped for some fish and chips, which Uncle Jackson told us later was the thing Manly was known for. That explains why we saw so much of it.

When the ferry redocked at Circular Quay, we walked along the Opera Quay towards the Opera House. For a place that doesn't rain that much, many of the scenic and shop-lined walks were designed with overhangs and rain shelters that stretch out almost until you reach the intersecting walk that runs along the bay.

Again it started to pour as we neared the Opera House. It was also time for us to train it back to Gordon, where Aunt Lillian  would pick us up at 4:30 to head to another prearranged dinner, this time with Uncle Samuel's family. So, the Uncle Samuel I spoke of yesterday-- his name is actually Joseph. Ha! And he may or may not be blacklisted from China, but Aunt Lillian and Aunt Fiona definitely are. More on that later. So Samuel is Joseph's older brother, and they are both my grandmother's younger brothers. 

Uncle Samuel who is 88 married a second (one and a half?) generation Chinese-Australian woman from a rural area four hours north of Sydney. She reminds me of an old British lady and could probably pass, though she is full-blooded Chinese-- but I'm learning that the question of our blood is an area of much bemused speculation and rumor across the extended family. More on that later! 

Uncle Samuel looks more Chinese than Joseph. He looks like a cute hobbit. I hope he never reads this.

Dinner was in Chatswood at a fancy Chinese restaurant chosen by Roselyn and Janine, Uncle Samuel's daughters. It was Chinese owned and run, and the flavor profiles were more western-tasting. They also individually portioned and served each of us even though the dishes were family style. That was interesting. 

And Roslyn and Janine are lovely. I sat between them and chatted. Janine herself is leaving town next week for a five week trip across Europe and Asia! And Roslyn is a flavor scientist, so cool.

After dinner, Roslyn took us to Kirribilli which is a park across the bay from the Opera House. We saw it lit up next to the bridge. Kids were hanging about around us, reveling in their youth and the warm night, as we took in the scene. As we drove off, the rain came down as if cued.