Winter has arrived in Vancouver with a blast of Arctic air. In Edmonton we would call this Fall. However, the sight of snow-capped mountains in the north does help to add to the feel of winter.  There’s still too much green around here, and not enough snow to cover the bushes and bamboo.

I’ve been sick past couple days…. been busy working on various things and as soon as my final task for the week was done (which was preaching last sunday morning), my body promptly told me that it was time to stop and rest. I think I had a slight fever yesterday. I made some chicken congee and slept through most of the day. I started reading The Kite Runner, and I’m completely engaged with the story. What a treat it is to be wrapped in blankets in a warm, cozy room, read a good book, with Xmas music playing in the background. Oh yeah, I found the local Xmas radio station. Here’s to a month of “Last Christmas” and “Feed the World”… and “The most wonderful time of the year” in many, many versions.

Well, I’m procrastinating. I should be working on my final papers and assignments. It’s Reading Week: the calm before the storm. In the next few weeks there will be the furious push to get everything done… and then Christmas respite. I’m heading home to Edmonton for a couple of weeks, but it’s going to look very different this year. My mom is down in the states with my brother’s family for several months, so it’s going to be me and pops. Hmmm, should be interesting in several ways. I’m not sure what in what state the house will be in when I arrive. My dad can cook well enough.. but cleaning will be another matter. Thankfully, my other brother will be hosting Xmas dinner, and I’m sure there will be several other dinners to attend. But it just won’t be the same without mom. Even when you’re in your thirties.

In other pointless news, I watched a couple of excellent films at the Vancouver Asian Film Festival.

The first one is a simple documentary on a Japanese American who was one of the founding members of the Black Panther:

And the other is about Japanese Canadians and why almost 100% of all Japanese-Canadians are marrying interracially, the highest out of any other ethnicity in Canada, and how their mixed children perceive their unique multiracial identities.

I love these topics about identity and what people ascribe themselves to be. Mostly because I feel like I’m on this quest to know “what I am.” As a second generation Chinese Canadian, and a Christian one as at, I recognize that I don’t exactly fit in any category. I have been “Canadianized” and yet I treasure my ethnic heritage… but neither culture will fully accept me. Still today, when white Canadians see me, they assume I’m an immigrant. When I open my mouth to speak with Chinese people, they know immediately that I am a “foreigner.” I’m beginning to dislike terminology like  “Banana” because it’s a huge over simplification of how it is like to grow up as a visible minority in a predominately anglo-saxon culture. And I’m starting to object those who would identify themselves as “Eggs” – white on the outside and yellow on the inside. Unless you actually grew up in a predominately Asian culture, I’m not sure if you’re actually shaped by what you think is “Asian.” That is, it takes a whole lot more than liking the food, using chopsticks, and dating Asian girls to make you “yellow.”

K, I’ll stop here before this goes onto a long rant about race and racism. Procrastination end//


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