Dawn Xiana Moon: Melodic folk pop infused with passion and honesty. From Chicago.

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Monday, July 29, 2002

Leaving

Well, I'm leaving in a couple of hours for the airport to endure a 24-hour flight back home. Ah, the joys of travel. Actually, I love traveling--it's boring airtime that kills me. However, I have some good reading material: Orson Scott Card's Homecoming series. He's an incredible science fiction writer (of Ender's Game fame). My aunt Helen is coming with myself and my mom--she's going to help my parents with their company for the next few months to a year. It'll be good for my mom to have one of her sisters around. She's much more relaxed (even giggly) with them than at home... and friends are always needed.

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Saturday, July 27, 2002

It's Almost Over

I got a full-body massage today for the first time, and yesterday I had a facial (again for the first time). My aunts are definitely spoiling me... this is the life! Too bad it only happens about once every three years... I'm leaving for Michigan on Tuesday morning at 6:00am, so I'll be home soon!

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Thursday, July 25, 2002

The Importance of Integrity

I've been struck by something as I've been here: the importance of living out my faith. My grandmother (Por Por, my mom's mom) has been reluctant to give her life to Christ because when she was younger and raising 10 kids, her aunt, who said she was a Christian and always helped people from her church, wouldn't help or respect her own family. Every Chinese New Year, Por Por would take her kids to visit her aunt as a sign of respect, only to endure insults... this continued for years and has left a deep hurt that is only now (hopefully) beginning to heal. Now, the majority of her family (children and their spouses, grandchildren and theirs) are Christians and she can see that for most them, faith is real and affects the way they live; it's made them better people who try to love as Jesus loves: unconditionally. But she's still hurt and is afraid of being a hypocrite herself.

I don't want to be a stumbling block to anyone--although I am far from perfect, I have to live with integrity and pray that God will change me into the kind of person he wants me to be, a person whose actions match her words. I like to talk about loving others, but do I? I'm called to care for the weak, the sick, the poor, the oppressed, but do I? It's easy to think about these things in theory, but they hit home when you're close to someone affected.

Preach always, and if nessesary use words.
--Francis of Assisi

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Wednesday, July 24, 2002

The Party

My grandmother (dad's side) had been waiting for this for 25 years... my grandparents' 50th anniversary party was pretty cool in the end, but a bit of a headache for my parents before the day, I think. My grandmother kind of went off the deep end in the planning stages, but everything turned out well. We stayed in the President Suite in the Raffles Town Club (wow!!). My grandparents put everyone up in the hotel part of the club for 2 nights, and they really went all out. This suite is seriuosly bigger than my house next year... it's got a jacuzzi, a sauna, a grand piano, a dining room with a looong table (you could practically hold state dinners in there), etc. It's amazing. The piano is really nice. :-) Oh--and there's a mini swimming pool in here as well. It's like a condo. But better. I'll probably never have that much money, but it was nice to experience.

A funny story about the whole party: My grandparents wanted me to play "something classical on the flute" for their party, so I prepared a nice piece, which I previewed for them the day of the party. Problem: by "classical," my grandmother had meant musical theatre. Argh. So I spent the afternoon figuring out bits and pieces from Broadway musicals and putting them together into a medley since I hadn't brought any other music with me. A very interesting experience.... It seemed to turn out alright though. Such are the problems of a performer. :-)

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Tuesday, July 23, 2002

Problems Fixed

Hey everyone, sorry my blog was undergoing technical difficulties for the last 3-4 days--I was writing but the site wasn't publishing. The problem (with the server--grr) has been fixed finally. Yay!

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Sunday, July 21, 2002

So You Can Be Cultured Too

Random facts about Chinese culture: 1. All relatives have a rank name that indicate their relationship to you. For example, instead of saying, "My mother's second oldest sister," you could just call Ee Ee. It's a pretty nice system, especially since "back in the olden days" you couldn't say the first name of a relative older than yourself; it was considered disrespectful. However, my generation was unindoctrinated with the real system and we use a combination of the proper rank names with the typical Uncle [insert name here]. 2. Although no one in my family follows the traditional ancestor worship, my grandmother (on my mom's side--see, wouldn't saying "Por Por" make it so much easier?) talks to the dead. We visited my grandfather's grave--for her benefit more than anyone else's--and (my dad filled me in on this later) was saying things like, "Wake up! Your daughter and family are here to see you. See, your son-in-law came all the way from America." It's not just talking like you see in the movies at cemeteries--wishful thinking--she thinks she's actually talking to my grandfather's spirit. As a Christian, I know he's in heaven and not living in his grave, but going to the site shows respect and gives her confidence that when she goes she will be remembered. Hopefully I'll see her in heaven one day too... I'd rather not think about the alternative. But at the rate she's going, she'll outlast all of us anyway; 82 and still going strong.

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Saturday, July 20, 2002

Wierdness. It's a bit morbid.

So I discovered something yesterday that I'd pretty much forgotten about Singapore--they exhume (read: dig up after burial) their dead. It's a governmental policy apparently, which says something about the mindset of most Singaporeans--if the government says something, they'll go along with it, even if they grumble, because they're rather obedient and unquestioning to authority. After 15 years, a dead body has to be removed from its plot in the cemetery; it's usually cremated. In a way, it makes sense--there are 4.2 million people living in a space the size of Detroit. But it's still pretty gruesome.

Apparently, the body of a woman was recently exhumed and was found to be in excellent condition, with little decomposition (and I think she was buried for longer than the 15 years as well, although I'm not sure on that point). Some are claiming it's the embalmer did an incredible job, some don't know what to think, and some call it a miracle. A rather strange one, if it is--comments from the family are all positive, with one grandson even saying that he's happy because though his grandmother died when he was a small boy, this way he gets to see her again. Eek. Not a way I'd want to be seen.

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Wednesday, July 17, 2002

Culture Clash. Sort of.

I'm in an interesting place... I don't entirely fit into Singapore and I don't entirely fit into America. Of course, this bears some explanation. As an American (and I have to fight with myself to keep my accent--theirs is really easy to pick up but I don't like how it sounds) I don't entirely fit the culture here--not to mention that most people can speak some form of Chinese, a feat that I have yet to accomplish--and in all honesty, I don't really want to. Singapore is not my home, though sometimes I think I'd do well here (ask me about that sometime). On the other hand, as an Asian I'm in a small minority in America, a minority I don't even fit into properly. I'm a bit of an anomaly as an American--for example, I hate peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, etc. In some ways, I'm more Asian than people usually realize. However, my Asian friends consider me practically white--I don't speak Chinese, I don't specifically seek out Chinese friends or join Asian American groups, I don't listen to the kind of music most of them do, I don't always dress like most of them, etc. And I sometimes wonder what the culture at large thinks of me. When a white person talks to me, are they ever surprised that I don't have an accent (or maybe I do and have never noticed--heh)? Are they surprised that I know little about Chinese culture or language even though I was born in Singapore? Why is it that Kirsten Dunst can wear a cheongsam (the Chinese dresses with mandarin collars--she wore one in Spiderman during the scene where she was at a party and the Green Goblin tried to blow everything up) but if I wore one I'd look like I was trying to be traditional (even though hardly anyone, as in I have yet to see someone wearing one, wears them in Singapore) or hadn't assimilated well? I'm a product of three cultures: Chinese, Singaporean, and American. Even though the population of Singapore is 80% ethnically Chinese, the country is different from China--local influences have played a huge part, as have western (mostly British, thanks to colonization, and some American, since many of those in power went to the US for their college education) and the rest of Asia. This country is perhaps more of a melting pot than America.

So where does that leave me? I'm not sure. Not all-American, but truly American, perhaps?

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Chocolate and Ice Cream (see, we're on a food trend here)

It's alll about the chocolate... as I like to tell my relatives, I like Asian food and Western desserts. Chinese desserts consist of sugar syrup with beans, jelly, etc. and it's not appealing to me since there isn't even any ice cream. Of course, there are a few exceptions--ice kachang, which is basically shaved ice with multi-colored syrups and milk poured on top and random things on the bottom (I say "random" because I couldn't tell you what most of them are) is really good, but I like the ice and not the "kachang" (all the stuff on the bottom--that's for my mom :-). I just took a trip to the grocery store and discovered a couple of interesting things: 1. there's a huge variety of chocolate for me to try since a lot is imported from Europe and Australia and 2. Singaporeans seem to buy ice cream in smaller quantities than Americans do--almost everything comes in the equivalent of pints. But I was really happy to discover that they carry Movenpick ice cream since I hadn't had any since I was in Europe 6 years ago. Unfortunately, it's not as amazing as I remember it (sadness), so the best ice cream I've ever had was during last summer's trip to Scotland. If only I could remember the name of the brand... (though with my luck it'd only be carried in Europe anyway!).

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Monday, July 15, 2002

Ah, Singapore!

In some places, people die from starvation. In Singapore, people probably die from overeating... LOL. Not really, but food is a huge thing here. A typical greeting in Cantonese (rather than saying hello) is translated as, "Have you eaten?" The guest speaker at my cousin's church commented that eating food is a pastime in this country. And he's right. With good reason though--I've been eating lots of stuff I can only get here (or that is waaay better here)--durian, laksa, mee siam, pandan chiffon cake, soybean milk, fish head curry, etc. Some of my favorites wouldn't be touched by most Americans, and many of them are really spicy. Unless you've been to Asia you probably have no real concept of spicy food--for an American I have a great spice tolerance. For an Asian I'm pathetic. Oh--the last note on the food topic--one of my uncles owns a vegetarian restaurant. It's pretty different than most of the same in the US; he's a veggie because of his religion (Buddhism) and a lot of what he makes looks like meat, even though it isn't. He makes traditional Singaporean/Chinese meat dishes and replaces the meat with some form of starch that looks almost exactly the same and usually tastes pretty close. Interesting, huh?

More fun--I got a Thai massage the other day. Most of it was relaxing, if a bit unusual--it's a combination of "normal" massage, stretching, cracking (they cracked my fingers, toes, back, and neck--the neck was soooo loud!), and hitting pressure points. And they don't just use their hands--they use elbows, knees, and feet too. Apparently a lot of people in this part of the world are really into it.

The best thing about this trip has been spending time with my relatives, though. It's amusing to watch my mom interact with her sisters--she laughs all the time (maybe that's where I got it from!) and seems a lot younger. My grandmother (Por Por, my Mom's mom, as opposed to Mama, my dad's mom) is 82 years old and shows no signs of letting down--her hair is gray instead of white and she's still incredibly active and has all of her faculties. She looks like a "typical" Chinese lady--about 5'1", I think, and skinny too--and wears traditional clothes. And she only speaks Cantonese, which makes things interesting for me since I don't know any Chinese languages at all. I've been trying to pick up a little, but communication with her is funny--but she's really great. She's also an amazing cook. Seriously, you'd never guess the ages of most of that side of the family... I definitely want to age like her.

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Saturday, July 13, 2002

Posting Again--Finally!!

It seems like such a long time. Where do I even begin? After a 7-hour car ride from Wildwood Christian Camp in upstate New York (where I played with the Touch the World Ministries worship band--more on that later) and a 26-hour flight (including around 2 hours spent switching planes in Tokyo and Detroit) I finally arrived in Singapore at 1:30am this morning. Luckily, jet lag doesn't seem to be an issue (it never really has been, actually--I wonder if it'll stay that way all my life) even though Singapore has a 13-hour time difference from Michigan. My mom sort-of surpised me at the Detroit airport (she was supposed to fly to Singapore before me, but my brother told me she planned to be on the same flight--I just couldn't tell if he was making it up or telling the truth), which was nice because it allowed me to spend some time with her (heh--a lot of time, actually). A small army of cousins, aunts, uncles, and my grandmother (all from my mom's side--she's the 7th out of 10 kids) greeted us when we arrived. I haven't done much yet today, but I've already managed to grab some amazing food that I can't find back home. I'll finally have steady internet access, so if anyone wants to drop me an email... (hint, hint).

Back to the music thing... working with the worship team was awesome! We had a great setup (electric and acoustic guitars, bass, drum set, djembes, flute, lots of vocals, keys) with a total of 8 musicians. I'm guessing we played and rehearsed for around 50 hours in the week or so we worked together--needless to say, voices were tired and fingers were cramped, but we had a great time. For a week we lead worship for high school kids who were at training camp (preparation for going out all over the world to work with various groups) and every session was recorded, so I'm hoping to get a cd from one of the guys sometime soon. A lot of people said that it was the best that worship had ever been there. For those of you that know what I'm like in the morning, you'll be shocked to learn that I was up at 6:30am every day (which isn't bad compared to the kids--they had to get up at 5:45am)! Highlights: the filming of a worship team/techie version of Survivor, many many many trips to Wal-Mart (there's nothing to do in Cincinnatus), Applebees, and crazy stories from Scottish Steve about survival training, curing foot-and-mouth diease, and exploding animals.

Nehemiah

One of the thoughts I'll take away from this week--Jeff Boucher's talk on God-sized dreams and Nehemiah. Nehemiah was the cupbearer to King Artaxerxes when the Jews who survived exile (in Babylon, I think) were trying to return to Jerusalem. However, the wall of Jerusalem was broken down and after 92 years still hadn't been rebuilt--in that time period, walls were best means of defense for a city. Without walls, the city was deserted because people didn't feel safe and the Jewish nation was scattered. Nehemiah longed to restore the city and his people and prayed that God would use him to make it happen.

At that time, the law said that everyone had to act happy in the king's presence or face the punishment of death. After all, who would want to be troubled with the petty problems of his subjects? Nehemiah knew the law--he was a trusted official. (The easiest way to kill a king? Poison his food. Enter the cupbearer, who eats portions of everything. Everyone waits for a half hour or so to see if the cupbearer is still alive, and if he is, the party can begin.) However, he needed to get the king's attention: "I had not been sad in his presence before, so the king asked me, 'Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart.' I was very much afraid, but I said to the king, 'May the king live forever! Why should my face not look sad when the city where my fathers are buried lies in ruins, and its gates have been destroyed by fire?' The king said to me, 'What is it you want?'" Not only did he live, but Nehemiah was allowed to go to Jerusalem with a contingent of officers and calvary--and took a long "leave of absence" from his job. He kept praying and seeking God, and even though he was not a builder, he managed to gather the support of the Jewish people and rebuilt the wall in 52 days amongst military threats from other nations.

Application? Some dreams seem impossible because they are--for us. But with God anything is possible. If a project costs $90,000 and you only have $60,000, if the project really belongs to God then it's his problem that the money isn't there and he'll resolve it. That's not to say that we can sit back and do nothing--Nehemiah risked his life and poured his own time out--but God's dreams are bigger than ours and even though they can seem crazy, he is fully capable of making them reality. As long as we're faithful in our part, the burden of making things happen is not on us.

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