In The beginning... (Return of the Orphan - Part 1)

The last couple of days have been full on... We have not had time to breath, let alone blog.

We arrived on Valentine's Day amidst chaos and crying, and were quickly ferried away on the MTR straight after our crying reunion (and I mean, crying...) the scenery whizzed past us but I was still in jet-lagged shock. My B-Ma was sitting next to me, holding my hand. It was awkward, yet calming. She is tiny, but then again, so am I. Her face is constantly full of emotion. Like almost on the brink of tears each word she speaks. I know it must be hard for her. It's hard for me. I have trouble looking her in the eyes sometimes...
For the remainder of the journey we had stilted conversation and I know it's my fault. I had closed down emotionally after the previous over-display. There is only so much I can handle in a day...

I have just seen the footage of our first encounter. It was surreal to watch. I didn't remember that I was holding Ever when I met my B-Ma for the first time. I remember crying hysterically. Screwing my face up with each body-wracking sob. Man, I look ugly when I cry. Haha!
Vanity aside, it was a moment that I'll never forget (well ok, I did forget some of it, that's why I needed The Hubband to film it) We hugged for what seemed like eternity. It felt like years of pent-up anxiety and insecurity streamed out of me at the touch of this woman. I didn't expect to feel so at home and yet so weirdly inappropriate to be hugging a stranger I just met - so tightly, in public, in a foreign country. There are no words to describe.

Then the people started showing up. My bio-sis, her kids, cousins, an Aunty, and the Grandma... All crammed into my B-Ma's tiny place. I was starting to lose my shizz...

This was the reason why I wanted to avoid the big Whanau dinner that night. It's all too much, too fast. I just wanted to get out of there.

After a couple of hours people started to disperse. My B-Ma made us a delicious feast. She is an amazing cook. (I guess I must get my interest in cooking from her?!) Some refreshingly familiar, and some completely unrecognisable. I almost ate a chicken foot... Argh! My mama wasn't feeling well so she went to bed without eating.

I was mostly worried about how Ever (and myself...) would cope on the airplane that I didn't think about what happened when we got there. Note to other travellers with kids: The arrival is just as chaotic as the journey! It took us a while to get Ever to sleep as the jet-lagged time difference and unfamiliar surroundings had messed with her routine. With her portacot gone the only solution was to try to sleep with her in a tiny double bed. FYI, We never sleep with her... And she loved it. Jumping and rolling. Squealing and crying. Touching out faces and poking us in the eyes. Not to mention the whacking and scratching! The husband is a giant in this home. His feet poke out the end of the tiny bed. He is constantly trying to cram his tall frame into small spaces. Poor papa!

The next morning (Sunday, Feb 15th), after a horrendous I-guess-I'll-call-it-Sleep, my B-Ma came to meet us. We were eager to go for a walk around her 'Hood and get our bearings, before my B-Ma's 'First Meeting' with dad at a nearby restaurant in an hour. I had brought the 'Time Capsule' photo album I had laboured away on the night before the flight to Hong Kong (only had 2 hours of sleep that night. Ugh!) Even in the 'Hood the buildings are so tall that they meld into the grey skyline, and the smoggy/smokey-ashtray air stings at your vocal chords. There are people everywhere you turn. Rudely staring at us. My mama and Hubband unfortunately, and luckily, stick out like a sore white thumb... It is weird to feel that I finally fit in in terms of looks, only to be rejected by the lack of language assimilation.
Hong Konger's never say, "Sorry" (or the Cantonese equivalent) when they bash, I mean brush, past you. I guess they would be in a perpetual state of repentance otherwise.

After visiting the local shopping centre we made our way to the restaurant we were meeting my dad at, in record time. Next thing I know my Mama and The Hubband are spontaneously joining the Meet-n-Greet. (It made sense though, we hadn't had breakfast yet) Up two flights of stairs with a pushchair is no easy feat!
The decor is so odd to the surrounding patrons. It is gaudy, yet has a distinct market feel to it. I have never encountered an eatery with so much bling! From the large rectangular crystal-like chandeliers hanging in a grid pattern from the ceiling. Sparkling like long hanging eyelashes, to a wall of wine bottles behind a sheet of glass next to the petshop-like aquariums housing live dinner-choices (I presume...) There was an opulence about the place, yet was packed with plain-clothed ordinary people sitting at large tables. The waiters were dressed like simple cleaners and ranged from 20-something to elderly. It was weird.
The sharp lilt of the Hong Konger tongue being yelled at every which direction is disarming, and oddly amusing. I had always been told I speak loudly, I have decided that this is the reason why. I am a Hong Konger... well, I look like one anyway.

My B-Ma spotted an almost deserted table in the far right corner. She made a beeline for it. The last three remaining people seated were of elder-age... My B-Ma signalled someone. A plain-clothed worker appeared and started to pull the white tablecloth toward her. Plates, cutlery, cups and all. The patrons tried their best to scarf down their food as fast as possible. I laughed at the sight. That would never happen in New Zealand.

After they vacated a fresh white linen tablecloth was ceremonially thrown over the giant round table. Plates, bowls, chopsticks (ugh!) and pots of Chinese tea appeared. With a pot of boiling water poured into a small bowl my B-Ma started to wash and dry all of the chopsticks then handed them out as the food started arriving. (Obviously this is a 'thing'. I can't imagine us doing that in New Zealand, but I guess it's the only way you know you're cutlery is truly hygienic. I like it!)
Dish after steamed dish started appearing and was placed in the centre on a rotating glass circle. Food that smelt like heaven, and tasted better than it smelt. With a turn of the wheel we could reach for another exquisite delight. Ever loved everything! Even the tough squid tentacles! [shudder]  - New Zealand has been right royally screwed over by our "Asian restaurants". This tasted nothing like we had sampled in the 'Chinese' restaurants at home.

I unfortunately met my Bio-Grandma with a face full of noodles. She looks like a much (ahem!) older version of me. Weird. She barely spoke any english but continued to nod as we tried to talk to her. Speaking back only in Cantonese, as if we understood. Awkward...

"Eat, eat" my B-Ma said.

So we did.

Dad arrived shortly after with Jane. We greeted each other briefly before returning to feasting. The centre of the table had magically become laden with more dishes to try.

After my tummy was full I turned to my B-Ma, photo album in hand. I explain slowly what it was and why I had brought it. She hugged me, tears in her eyes as she looked from my face to the book. Curiosity took over from the brief flood of tears and she started to read what I had written. I abruptly excused myself and went and sat with dad, while my mom looked through the book with my B-Ma. There were too many emotions for me. Sometimes it's easier just shooting the shizz with my Ol' Man, than constantly being bombarded with the emotional impact of this trip. But of course, I knew it wouldn't last.

I looked over to see my mama in tears hugging a crying B-Ma. 

All of a sudden my B-Ma stood up and started to profess her deep gratitude to both my parents for adopting me...

Oh shucks, then my dad starts crying... Far out. 

Don't get me wrong, the 'Time Capsule' and Meet-n-Greet had gone better than I expected. It brought us closer, and more honestly, together (I only wish James could have been there for it. He had taken Ever back to my B-Ma's place as she had gone loco from lack of sleep) But of course, I had not prepared myself for this though. To be honest, I had thought we'd skip down memory lane quite happily, maybe share some stories, have a couple of laughs, maybe a tear or two... Not everyone bawling and my B-Ma sharing her very heart and soul in a busy restaurant. I was in awe of these human beings. These people who love me so. How did I get so lucky?

After the emotional brunch we took a bus to the Grandma's tiny whare. It is situated in an area where many older folks reside. She lives on the 29th floor, across from one of her sons and his family. We drank Chinese tea and had awkward chitchat. Grandma only knows a couple of English words. I got to see photos of the bio-whanau from long ago. Significant moments and pictures of my bio-grandpa.


As an adoptee who has found her Birth Mother, you never really know what you're going to get. You hope that the person will be a good person, but sometimes the reason why they gave you up can ruin a person for life. My B-Ma seems to be someone who even though she has lived a hard life, she has remained honest, and tender. Full of love for her long-lost daughter, she couldn't keep. For the parents who raised her. For the man who married her, and especially for the grand-daughter she bore.

I am in awe of God.

Thank you for all these special moments I got to experience. I will truly never forget this trip...

Ps. I am aware how silly I made the last post, but I felt like I had to take the seriousness away from the situation, as it was still fresh in my mind...