This morning as I drove to work I heard   a barrage of news about protests against the Olympics in China. Here are some of my thoughts about the matter since a few friends have talked to me about it. I really think that people should leave the event alone and stop these ridiculous protests, and here are my reasons.

First of all, the Olympics is an economically draining event and not that many countries could afford it. The 2004 Olympics in Athens put Greece in so much debt that they are still trying to pay it off. When someone in San Francisco’s City Hall threw around the idea of hosting the Olympics the citizens actually said “Hell no”. Basically, no matter where you are from, you should be glad that the Olympics is not in your country for the sake of your money. In the case of China, the 2008 Olympics is really a special event for every single Chinese citizen. It is the first time China is hosting, and it is a symbol that China is now a great economic force that could compete with the United States and other developed countries. The country of 1.3 billion citizens has been preparing for the event for over eight years, and it is unfair to the Chinese people for the rest of the world to be so antagonistic to this event.

Second, the Olympics is supposed to be a time for the world to lay down their differences and compete in a civil and friendly matter. The ancient Greeks created the games as a break from war. When you throw war back into these games it never ends well. For example, back in 1972 a terrorist group kidnapped the Israeli Olympic team and murdered them. Then the Mossad (Israeli Intelligence) killed the people they believe were responsible. Violence just begets more violence, and I am very disheartened to see that people are injecting hate into the Olympics.

Third, protesting against and boycotting the Olympics is extremely unfair to the athletes. The athletes who compete in the Olympics train for years to get where they are. They want to make their own countries proud, and they want to accomplish their dreams. I am sure that they are also disappointed and perhaps even afraid to compete in the games with so much opposition. I would hate to see an athlete being spat on like a Vietnam War veteran because they competed in the games in China. Once again I reiterate that the Olympics should be about peace, and not war.

I don’t deny that some rights taken for granted in America do not exist in China, but there is no perfect government. If you look on the record of any reasonable large and powerful nation you will find corruption,abuse,and other atrocities. As to the violence in Tibet, here is how I see it. The Europeans who colonized America took away the United States from the Native Americans just like China annexed Tibet. Actually the situation in America is even worse because many Native Americans are still segregated on reservations while Tibetans are free to live in their own homeland. Just like Native Americans in the United States, the Tibetans receive various benefits for being ethnic minorities in China. Now if a bunch of Native Americans took up torches and destroyed homes and stores belonging to other races in the name of freeing their nation, do you think that the current United States government will not react with force?

Anyway, I am trying to say that China’s political flaws and racial tensions really shouldn’t be the reason for people to douse the Olympic flame. I think it’s despicable for people to advance their own political agendas by knocking down this wonderful event meant to foster world harmony. Supposedly there will be a giant protest in San Francisco when the torch arrives on Wednesday, and I hope it will not get out of hand. I really wonder if those protesters have been to China, and if they know what the games mean to a Chinese citizen; I wonder if they know the original purpose of the Olympics, or if they are just following the herd. I sincerely hope the Olympics torch will burn brightly in San Francisco, and the games in August will be a huge success.

Recently I read an article about financial planners talking with their clients about their childhood.  The point is that events that happened in childhood often shape how we manage our money.  So I thought about it, and I took a trip down memory lane. Here are a couple of my most distinct childhood memories about money, and how they relate to how I manage money now.
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When I was 4 or 5 my mom sent me to the corner store to buy a box of crayons.  I think it cost about 8 fen (1 fen is 1/100th of a yuan, the official currency of China).  So I clutched the coins in my hand and walked to the store. When I got to the store I laid down my money and asked for the box of crayons, and the storekeeper told me that I didn’t have enough money!  It seems that I lost a couple coins on the way. So I walked home with the coins I had and told my mom.  My mom gave me a couple more coins and told me to try again.  So once again I skipped and hopped to the store.  I put down my coins again, and unfortunately I didn’t have enough money again.  So I sulked a little and went home.  My mom laughed at me a bit, and decided to come along.  She asked me where I walked and I showed her, and she found the three or four coins I dropped.  Finally I got my box of crayons with my mom’s help.

I still sort of remember the fence I walked by and the grass I hopped on, and my mom repeats this story ad nauseum to whoever would listen because she thinks it’s hilariously cute.  I think this is an incident that made me wary of carrying cash in my hands. It has been twenty years since it has happened, but I still don’t like carrying a lot of cash because I fear I would lose it. Another habit instilled by this event is that I look at the ground .

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When I was about 12 my family lived in Hawaii, and we were quite low income because my parents were both immigrant graduate students. My dad tells the story of being a minimum wage souvenir salesman .  Anyway, we needed some photos developed and my dad went to the supermarket and dropped off the film. They had an advertisement that said if you choose express developing and they don’t deliver the film by 9am then they will give you the photos for free.  My dad fell for the advertisement and ordered express development.  Then the next day he sent me to pick up the photos.  Usually it cost $4 to $5 to develop a roll, but because of my dad’s folly the final bill came out to be $11.29 or something.  I handed over the money on the verge of tears because it just felt like I lost something.  Then I went home with the photos and cried.  Then my mom asked me why I was crying and I said that dad made us pay extra money for photos.  She kind of laughed at me again, but chided my dad a little bit for falling for the supermarket’s ploy and making me cry.

Of course, these days my mom makes fun of me for this incident, too.  I cried because I felt tricked, but also because I knew that money was hard to come by in my family at that time.  This was a time when we bought the overripened produce and clipped every coupon to survive, and $11 was a lot of money. Because of this incident I am very against paying for extras tacked on by stores and anything that is “express” or “premium”.  For example, I don’t buy extra warranties offered by stores, and I always just get the cheapest or free shipping.

Anyway, this post was very therapeutic for me and I hope you were amused by it. It is kind of funny to look back, but these memories do explain why I have such a cautious and frugal attitude towards money.  What are some of your childhood memories about money? Do they explain how you treat money now?cialis tadalafil reviews

Happy new year everyone! Today is the lunar Chinese New Year, also known as Spring Festival. This is probably the most important festival for Chinese people in addition to the .  During the festival we generally eat a lot, light up fireworks, and give red envelopes to children.  Doors in China are also decorated with red paper with couplets written on them and there are often many parades with dragon and lion dancers. What is less known in America is the original reason for this joyous and boisterous celebration, and it is a pretty interesting legend that I shall retell here.

A long long time ago, there lived a ferocious monster named Nian.  It was bigger than an ox and so ugly that no man could lay eyes upon it without vomiting. Its favorite food was human and it was able to swallow several people in one bite, but it was so lazy that it would only hunt once a year.  Every year it came down from the mountains in the midst of winter on a moonless night and raided the first village it came upon. Thus the people dreaded the new moon in the coldest night of the winter, and feared for their lives every time the year ends.

One year, the hungry Nian came down from the mountains as usual and ran to a village under the cover of darkness.  Only one house in the village had its light on and Nian walked towards the home.  As it approached the window it suddenly heard a loud noise and was startled, and then it saw the home had red paper on its walls and it was even more frightened!  The giant beast was afraid of the color red and loud noises!  It howled in terror and ran away from the village.

The villagers rejoiced the fact that Nian did not take any of them victim, and the next year they were ready.  They all decorated their homes with red lanterns and red paper and prepared firecrackers and loud musical instruments.  On the night of the new moon in the middle of winter, they had a giant party with gongs, drums, and firecrackers.  The village was lit up in lights and glowed red.

Some say that Nian came by the village again and was killed as it cowered in fear, and others say that Nian just never bothered the humans ever again.  Nevertheless, the villagers continued the tradition of celebrating in the midst of winter with lots of noise and crimson decorations.  Thousands of years passed, and the word for “year” in Chinese became “Nian”.  If you look closely at the , you can imagine that its a stylized picture of a beast with a horn, large mouth, and a long tail.  The expression for new year’s day is sometimes “guo nian”, which means “having past the nian”, or “having survived the nian”.  Red became a color of joy, celebration, and ward against evil and that is why it is the color many Chinese brides wear.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the story, and if you have a Chinese friend tell them happy new year!

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Fifteen years ago, I took the plane tickets my wife Helen sent me and took my daughter to Hongqiao International Airport in Shanghai. My daughter Xin just turned nine. Perhaps it was because she was going to see her mother for the first time in over a year, she was extremely excited and did not sleep very well the night before. Then she fell asleep in the car on the way to Shanghai. My brother in law Ji Chang and a colleague Wen Hua sent us to the airport. At the airport, Xin woke up and was full of energy once again. She started to play the Gameboy I just bought for her.

As I looked at the Japan Airlines Boeing 737 outside of the terminal’s window, I was overwhelmed by hundreds of emotions. Yes, this is the land that nurtured me for over thirty years, this is where my friends and family live, and this is the place where I worked passionately in my career in education. All of these things were hard for me to let go.

Before I left, my coworkers in my department gave me a farewell party. That night, after everyone said goodbye, I loudly recited a poem by Su Dongpo titled August 15:

How often is the moon bright, I lift my wine to the azure sky and ask.
I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palaces?
I am willing to leave with the wind, but I am afraid of the chill
high above those beautiful jade buildings.
The moon dances and casts clear shadows, as if it is amongst mortals
It surrounds crimson towers, and creeps beneath the carved windows,
and shines upon those who cannot sleep.
It should not know hate, but why is it always round when we are parting?
Men have sadness, joy, parting, and reunion
Just as the moon may be dark, bright, round, and incomplete.
This has always been hard to understand fully since ancient times.
I can only hope that we can live long and admire the moon together
even if we are thousands of miles apart.

Su Dongpo is an extraordinary poet, and I have always loved his words. I especially like the passion he expressed in his other poem titled “Lian Ru Jiao – Che Bi Huai Gu”. However, at the time I was about to leave my parents, friends, and colleagues so I felt that Master Su’s poem “August 15th” truly conveyed my feelings. It is truly hard to leave my homeland, and it is hard to understand the sadness in parting, and the joy in reunion at the same time. Even though China’s Mid-Autumn festival uses the lunar calender’s August 15 and it is different from the Gregorian calendar, I know my wife Helen ordered plane tickets for August 15th because of the meaning of reunion attached to this date. Reunion is something every family wants, and Helen is the person who sacrificed enormously for our family’s reunion.

One year prior in 1991, Helen was accepted by the Theatre department at the University of Hawai’i at Manoa as a PhD student. When she walked out of Honolulu International Airport, her American penpal Betty asked a friend named Alice to give her a ride from the airport. When Alice asked Helen where she needed to go, Helen had no idea. Before she left China she left most of our savings for our child, and brought only $200 to America. With this pittance she could not even rent a room for two weeks in Hawaii.

Alice took Helen to the International Student Services building at University of Hawaii. In America, most state universities have international student services and their mission is to help international students. They usually have activities and clubs for international students and also help with registration and various Visa processing issues. They also deal with employment and the immigration of relatives. For example, if an international student wants to work off campus they would need the permission of the school. If an international student wants to return to their home country for vacation, they would also need the service to give approval on their I-20 form. At that time the director of the services at the university was an American born Chinese woman named Jennie. She was a very enthusiastic and hardworking director who was very well liked by the students. Perhaps it was because she is Chinese herself, she was especially fond of helping Chinese students. She was extremely surprised when she saw that Helen came into the office with two large suitcases. Even though the international students service helps these students, they are not responsible for finding people a place to live or deal with other personal issues. She asked Helen why did she come to the office and Helen said she has no idea where she is supposed to go, and is just trying to find a place to stay. Jennie asked Helen how much money she had and Helen answered $200. Jennie knew that there was no way Helen could rent anything, so she called a nearby church and asked for help. (To be continued)

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The day after tomorrow is August 15th, and that is the 15th anniversary of my arrival in America. I have been through many storms and felt complex mixtures of emotions in these fifteen years, and only those who have walked my path can taste what I have experienced. My friends, including some of my American friends suggested that I should write down my story. However, I always thought that my life in America is very unremarkable and I have not accomplished anything truly great. I guess there really is a limit to how many extraordinary people there are and the world is really composed of countless common and plain people. In my early years I learned Marx’s theory of “historic materialism”, and I still remember Chairman Mao’s words, “People, only people are the power behind the creation of world history”. I still believe that real history is truly created by common people like you and me. The crux is that most people like us did not record the roads we have traveled.

Recently, a couple events that prompted me to write down my experience in America are the encouragement of my online friends and the request from an ex-coworker . My ex-coworker’s daughter Wenjing is current living in my home because she is interning in a San Francisco accounting firm. I spoke to Wenjing about my life here in America and she also thinks that I should write it all down so that young people like her can objectively and truly learn about American society.

I remember before I left China fifteen years ago I read an article in the newspaper entitled “Ten Situations Where You Should Not Go To America”. Even now I can remember the top three items in the article. They were:

1. If you’re old, don’t go to America. “America is the battleground of the young and the purgatory of the old”.
2. If your English is shabby, don’t go to America. If you go you will be deaf and mute.
3. If you studied humanities, don’t go to America. You will not find a job.

I qualified for all three of these conditions. First of all, if we talk about age, I was already 37 years old. I joined the workforce when I was fifteen and I have had more than ten years of work experience. I see a lot young undergraduate international students here and I was more than twice their age. Second, if we talk about English skills, my background was very poor. Because of the Cultural Revolution, I lost the ability to go to school at a young age. I started learning the ABCs in my twenties when I attended college. Later on because I was a professor in a university I was able to learn more English, but when I came to America I really felt deaf and mute. Third, when it comes to my college major, I graduated with a degree in agricultural management. I also had courses in history and legal studies, but they were all humanities. At that time I already had a good career in China. At the end of the 80s I was already promoted to be the university’s youngest department head and had a good track record at my job. Because of these reasons, my wife gave me repeated advice in her letters that if I want to independently go to America I would face many obstacles and I would need to prepare for the ordeals mentally. At that time I figured I have already experienced the Cultural Revolution and America cannot compare to that ordeal. During that time my father was imprisoned and humiliated on the streets and I was sent to a steel factory and hauled molten steel and made steel molds. I have experienced all kinds of psychological and physical torment, and I figured the worst that can happen is that I will “eat bitterness” a second time.

It’s easy for me to say “I will endure torment a second time” right now, but to actually go through it was not easy. At that time there was a saying within the international students community about the path to take in America: first go to school and earn a degree; after receiving the degree, find a job; after finding a job, get a green card; after getting a green card the cars and houses will come, and that would be the crowning achievement. In all honesty, I did follow this path, and along the way I faced many obstacles. These obstacles include the difficulty in getting a foreign degree, the hardship in working minimum wage jobs, the roundabout craziness of getting a greencard, and my later midlife crisis. As I conquered these obstacles and accepted these battles I learned many lessons.

One thing worth mentioning is that I have met many friends from China, America, and all around the world in these fifteen years. When I was in trouble, many of these friends helped me. So as a Chinese proverb says, one should repay a droplet of kindness with a flood of goodness. I love to help people and I derive enjoyment from it. So here I will also write about the people that have helped me. Life is like a book, and time is the best teacher. Hopefully my friends everywhere can get some benefit from the lessons I learned in the past fifteen years in America.