Two lists

Where is the best place to live?
The United Nation just published the 2007/2008 Human Development Index rankings, the index used 2005 figures for life expectancy, educational levels and real per capita income to rank 175 nations of the world. For better understanding the index, go to their website.

How rotten is your country?
Another list is of my interest also, since much is debated as to how much corruption is going on in the Philippines, check out The 2006 Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index. Well, if you have any sense of what corruption does to a country, you will find that the more corrupted a country is, the harder it is for anything to work at all, I mean anything! We have experienced it first hand in the Philippines.

2007/2008 Human Development Index rankings

Iceland Norway Australia Canada Ireland Sweden Switzerland Japan Netherlands France Finland United States Spain Denmark Austria United Kingdom Belgium Luxembourg New Zealand Italy Hong Kong, China (SAR) Germany Israel Greece Singapore Korea (Rep. of) Slovenia Cyprus Portugal Brunei Darussalam Barbados Czech Republic Kuwait Malta Qatar Hungary Poland Argentina United Arab Emirates Chile Bahrain Slovakia Lithuania Estonia Latvia Uruguay Croatia Costa Rica Bahamas Seychelles Cuba Mexico Bulgaria Saint Kitts and Nevis Tonga Libyan Arab Jamahiriya Antigua and Barbuda Oman Trinidad and Tobago

Romania Saudi Arabia Panama Malaysia Belarus Mauritius Bosnia and Herzegovina Russian Federation Albania Macedonia, TFYR Brazil Dominica Saint Lucia Kazakhstan Venezuela, RB Colombia Ukraine Samoa (Western) Thailand Dominican Republic Belize China Grenada Armenia Turkey Suriname Jordan Peru Lebanon Ecuador Philippines Tunisia Saint Vincent and the Grenadines Fiji Iran, Islamic Rep. of Paraguay Georgia Guyana Azerbaijan Sri Lanka Maldives Jamaica Cape Verde El Salvador Algeria Viet Nam Occupied Palestinian Territories Indonesia Syrian Arab Republic Turkmenistan Nicaragua Moldova Egypt Uzbekistan Mongolia Honduras Kyrgyzstan Bolivia Guatemala

Gabon Vanuatu South Africa Tajikistan São Tomé and Principe Botswana Namibia Morocco Equatorial Guinea India Solomon Islands Lao People's Dem. Rep. Cambodia Myanmar Bhutan Comoros Ghana Pakistan Mauritania Lesotho Congo Bangladesh Swaziland Nepal Madagascar Cameroon Papua New Guinea Haiti Sudan Kenya Djibouti Timor-Leste Zimbabwe Togo Yemen Uganda Gambia Senegal Eritrea Nigeria Tanzania (U. Rep. of) Guinea Rwanda Angola Benin Malawi Zambia Côte d'Ivoire Burundi Congo (Dem. Rep. of the) Ethiopia Chad Central African Republic Mozambique Mali Niger Guinea-Bissau Burkina Faso Sierra Leone

Bombarded

We have been bombarded by loud pop music day and night for months now. It is not just the karaoke that I mentioned in my previous post, there is also someone who plays his music with a loud strong bass all day long. Last night the music was still going at midnight when we went to bed, this morning, I was awaken by the same music at 7:00am sharp.

We feel oppressed by this music, I actually prefer the karaoke to this constant booming in my head, it occupies my head every waking minute of the day. The worse part is that there is nothing we can do about it, calling the police is not going to help.

In the video below, you can hear the music going, but the bass sound is lost because the microphone of the camera does not pick up the booming very well. In reality it is at least three times louder. I took this video standing in our kitchen door. The music does not come out from our next door neighbour's house, which you see in the video, rather, it is from somewhere beyond.

Please pray for us, we have been bombarded by this music and the karaoke since we moved in, it has been very difficult and it is grinding on our spirits. Some types of music lift our spirits and nurture our souls, my choice will be Bach, Mozart and the like, but the booming music break us down, grind us into pulp, it has been very hard.

Dan is 34!

Dan is 34! We went out for a great dinner in a nearby Spanish/Mexican restaurant. We bought a wonderful chocolate cake from 10 Dove Street, one of our favourite restaurants. Kioni is always excited around candles. It is a simple celebration, but a warm and happy one.

Aftermath

When the typhoon passed through, the sky turned almost completely dark.

The tree in the front of our house was blown down by the wind, we heard it came down in the middle of the night, but didn't know what it was. Thankfully, it didn't bring down any wires that were hanging just over the fence.

Worry about the squatters

2006 Leyte Mudslide


If you look out of the window in this video, and listen carefully, you can hear the strong wind pounding on the trees and the rain pouring down.

It has been raining for a week, and in the past 24 hours, the sky just opened up and have been dumping rain non-stop. Looking out of the window, there are squatter houses all over our neighbourhood, in fact, our helper's family live in a squatter house just about 10 minutes walking distance from us. Above those squatter houses is a big hill, where the government has started about a year ago digging away the dirt to make a road. Though we haven't see much activities for a while, they still claim that they are working on the road.

Sitting in our office room, we can see clearing a big area with red dirt that was dug out with no vegetation on it. With the rain coming down like this, it won't take long until the soil is saturated and comes sliding down.

A huge mudslide in Leyte, Philippines in 2006 that buried the whole village was still fresh in my memories. The causes for that mudslide were a 10 day period of heavy rains and a minor earthquake. 12 days ago, we experienced a small earthquake here in Cebu. It seems like the ground underneath us is not that stable.

If anything happen, we will be fine, it is the squatters that I am worry about. Lord, please protect them from another Leyte disaster.

Inspired

"The secret of my success over the 400m is that I run the first 200m as fast as I can.
Then, for the second 200m, with God's help I run faster."

The word 'inspired' does not even start to describe how I felt after I watched 'Chariots of Fire' for about the 8th time tonight. The stories of Harold Abrahams (the U.S. athlete) and Eric Liddell (the U.K. athlete) were interesting, but what stopped me on my track was my after movie search on the internet about Eric Liddell. He owes much of his fame more to a race he didn't run than any he did.

I always knew he was born in Tianjin, China to missionary parents, I knew he died in China, but

1) I didn't know though he was born to missionary parents, he didn't see Jesus as his savior and Lord until he was 20 years old.

2) I didn't know it was only a year after he won the 400 yards gold medal in the 1924 Paris Olympics that he decided to go back to China to serve there.

3) I didn't know he sent his wife (born of Canadian missionary parents) and three young daughters back to Canada when the Japanese invaded, but decided to stay in China himself.

4) I didn't know that when Winston Churchill arranged to have a prisoner exchange with the Japanese, Eric Liddell was, of course, on the list, but gave up his place to a pregnant woman.

5) I didn't know about the stories of the many lives he has touched and changed while he suffered with them in war-torn China.

5) I didn't know that when he died of a brain tumor while a prisoner in a Japanese concentration camp in Weifang in 1945, just 5 months before the Japanese was defeated, his last words were, "It's complete surrender."

Eric Liddell surrender his all, he is a true missionary. And I am ashamed to call myself one when I read about his total obedience. He is my hero.

Another type of sharing

A lot of people find Filipinos are happy go lucky people, that they are always smiling and not caring too much about the misery around them.

In a sense it is right, however, we also found that the seemingly happy disposition stems from the fact that there might not be much for them to hope for, therefore, they just deal with it in a "happy" way. It is a defense mechanism. They refuse to be melancholy, rather they spice up their lives with little things that makes them feel better.

One of the examples will be music. Anyone who has been to the Philippines will notice that Filipinos love music. They particularly like music from the 80s, or any type of feel-good music with heavy beats, like rave or rap type music. They play them loudly in restaurants, in fiestas, at home, at church and anywhere they can get a hold of a stereo system and a pair of speakers. Often when we walk into a restaurant, the employees would quickly walk over to the stereo system and crank up the volume, and they crank it up so high that many times, we couldn't hear each other talking, we even had a hard time ordering food! After a while, we decided that if we are the only customers in a restaurant, we would ask them to turn it down, or sometimes even turning it off.

Old-timer missionaries explained to us that Filipinos have big hearts and they love to share. Not everyone can afford to play music in their homes, so those who can, share their music. While there is some truth in it, I still find that the loudness of the music hurts my ears. Or take today as an example, we went to a "high-class" coffee shop for breakfast, after a while, Dan had to go and ask them to turn off their music because they were playing rave music with swearing words in it, Kioni was right there moving her little body along with the strong beats, even though she doesn't understand the swearing words, that did it for Dan and I, we couldn't handle those words.

Someone outside of our subdivision has a karaoke machine. Our helper said for 5 pesos (10 cents US), you can go sing a song. Our house is directly in the path of the super loud speakers, so whenever someone sings, we hear it loud and clear. Recently, a male voice has come through our door and windows often. He is known as the "bad-singing" guy to Kioni. He has quite a bit of money, because he sings the same songs over and over and over, and he sings very badly.

So for months now, we are forced to listen to quite a number of people singing in that karaoke joint, sometimes, it has gotten to me quite badly that I have to tell Dan we need to go out to eat, I need a break from listening to that music. (The joint opens at around 8:00am and closes at around 10:30pm, weekends they will extend the time to around midnight.) At least in a restaurant, if we are the only customers, we could ask them to turn it down!

Earthquake

After having left Taiwan 20 years ago, I have not experienced another earthquake until today in Cebu.

It was 12:12pm, Kioni and I were in her school room just finishing up her Kumon Reading. Suddenly, our chairs moved, and when I looked at the fan, which was turned off, it was moving also. I was pretty sure it was an earthquake by then. I pointed the fan out to Kioni, and she said, "It is an earthquake, mommy, we have to run outside."

At that time, Dan came into our room asking if that was an earthquake. That was his first experience with earthquake, and it was also Kioni's first.

I was about to agree with her, but then it all stopped, it lasted only for about 4-5 seconds. I told her we didn't have to run outside, because the earthquake was small, "See, the ostriches are still sitting on the shelf, they haven't fallen down."

After my reassurance that it was OK, she finished up with the last page of Kumon, and ran out to talk about the earthquake with daddy. It was quite fun.

11 years later

Amy, Johnny Mak (the CEO), Johnny Yun (the small business owner), Richard Lee (the PhD) and Patrick Chan (the designer-lecturer)

We had a great time last night meeting with really old friends from church. I have not seen these friends for over 10 years, except Patrick, whom I see almost every time I come back to Hong Kong. All of us have gained some weight (except Patrick) and lost some hair (all of us), but most of us (except me) have become "someone" in their area of expertise.

We started out at the new high-end mall the Elements, well, for an average person like me, everything in this mall is way over my budget. We ended up having dinner at an Arabian restaurant, we ordered four dishes, but I don't think any of the guys went away with a full stomach, however, their wallets have become quite thin. They were very nice to treat me to this very special meal.

We were just starting to catch up with old times and talk a bit about the future when the meal ended, so the CEO Johnny Mak suggested that we catch a taxi to the night scene of Tsim Sha Tsui to continue on our conversation. We ended up in a lounge in a hotel, sitting in those big comfy chairs, we had lots of laughs.

Even after all these years, it seems like our friendships have not changed one bit, we are still as at ease with each other as before and laughed just as loud.

What a great privilege to have this opportunity to meet and chat. I hope we will be able to do this more often. We see each other so little that next time we meet, it might be in one of our memorial services. (quote Richard)

One year in Cebu

Exactly one year ago, we landed in Cebu. I still remember the heat and humidity that hit us right after we stepped off the plane, the taxi that took us to our first home and the night spent wondering what all the strange noises were.

After one year, the heat and humidity, though still oppressive sometimes, is expected. Taxi rides is still 'thrilling' to say the least, and we have left the first home we first arrived in and moved into the second home. And I can identify all the seemingly strange noises now.

I understand a lot more about missions than a year ago, I will never look at mission the same way, I will never look at missionaries the same way after being one for one year.

Dan and I are still combating cultural fatigue, day to day living still grind on us, especially when we have to go outside into traffic. We found out after a year that the heat is still the largest factor that affects our everyday mood.

Today, at our one year anniversary of arrival to Cebu, the weather turns cool. It is ONLY 77F (25C)! The rain has been coming down for over a week pretty hard, and we are loving it. It doesn't help the traffic, but at least, it helps us to have more patience while sitting in traffic.

Galic cloves

IMGP5079.JPG, originally uploaded by onmei.

In Cebu, things are sold in the smallest amount that one can imagine. You can buy a stick of cigarette, a pouch of shampoo and hair conditioner for one single use, one egg, etc. In this market just around the corner from us, you can see individual cloves of garlic nicely wrapped in plastic pouches for sale.

Remembering 9/11

It is not difficult to remember what you were doing on the morning of September 11, 2001. The following events were burnt into my heart.

In 2001, we were living in Maryland, Dan was an active duty Air Force Officer working at the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA). I was a campus staff with China Outreach Ministries.

For us, September 11th started on September 10. We received a call from the hospital in Andrew's Air Force Base that my pregnancy result came back, we could go to the hospital to get the result in person. Because of previous miscarriages, Dan would like to go with me to either celebrate if the result was positive, or support me if the result came back negative. However, Dan told me he couldn't go the next morning because there was a meeting scheduled in the Pentagon that he had to attend. I wanted so much for Dan to go with me, so I told him I had a meeting to go to also, I asked if he could go a bit late. He said no, that was a meeting with some important guys "up top".

So I went to the hospital alone. The nurse pointed out my name on a piece of paper and guided my eyes to the column that has the words "test result" on it. "Positive". I couldn't believe my eyes! I asked the nurse, "That means I am pregnant!" She said, "The result came back positive." I wanted to call Dan, but he would be in a meeting in the Pentagon. (We didn't have cell phone at that time.) The nurse suggested that I walked over to the medical record department and get my records, so that I can see the doctor the next day. My heart was jumping with joy, however, my joy was guarded by my previous miscarriages.

I walked over to the Medical Records counter down the hall and handed in my ID card, while they were getting my record, a male nurse walked over to the counter to talk to the female nurse who was helping me. "A plane just hit the World Trade Center." The female nurse at the counter said, "Hit the what?! People who don't know how to fly should just stay on the ground." I thought I heard it wrong, asked the male nurse again, he repeated what he said.

I was perplexed. A plane hit the World Trade Center, it must be a private jet with a new pilot, or could it be that he or she had a heart attack? I knew someone must have died from this, I just hoped the number would not be high. I went on my way to the meeting. I didn't even turn on the news while driving to the meeting, there was no reason too be too concerned about the plane that hit the World Trade Center.

When I arrive at the meeting, everyone's face was quite serious. Harriet asked me, "Have you heard about the plane that hit the Word Trade Center?" I repeated what I thought, a new pilot, maybe a heart attack. Harriet said, "It was a commercial airliner." Evelyn, my supervisor was not in the room. She entered a few minutes later, with an unbelievable news, "A second plane hits the south tower of the World Trade Center."

We were all silent, didn't quite understand what we heard. We decided that we had to pray.

Bill asked if anyone wanted to share anything. I then remembered I just received a positive result on the pregnancy test. But under such circumstance, should I share? Should I tell Dan first? I eventually shared it with my team, they were happy for me, but the circumstance prevented them from what could have been a more uplifting congratulations.

Evelyn asked me if Dan knew, I said no, and related to them why I had to go to the hospital alone. Harriet, who was in and out of the room trying to get some more news of the "accidents", came back in and said, "Another plane just hit the Pentagon!"

My heart stopped. The words she said swirled round and round before my eyes. "Another plane just hit the Pentagon....another plane just hit the Pentagon...." Before I knew what to say, Evelyn asked me if I knew a phone number in which I could call at the Pentagon where I can reach Dan." "No, I don't know whom he is meeting with."

"Go home, Amy." They urged. I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the room.

Wanting to make sure what I heard, I tuned into all the radio stations I could find when driving home. All of them confirmed the fact that a commercial airplane crashed into the Pentagon. Thinking about the worse, I was holding back tears. What should I tell the child that I was carrying? Should I say your father was killed on the day I found out that he/she existed?

I didn't remember how I got home. When I was driving down the road to our house in a off-base military housing area, I found it strangely quiet. No one was walking their dogs, no kids were playing outside, nobody was strolling on the bike path, it was eerily quiet.

I pulled my car in the parking spot in front of the house. Dan walked out from the back of the house, wearing his uniform still, but he was not wearing his hat (which is against the rule not to wear your hat on the outside while wearing your uniform), something were missing on his uniform also, but I didn't have the mind to figure out what was wrong with his uniform, I got off the car and gave him a hug.

"How come you are home?" I asked him. "They let us leave DIA." "DIA?! I thought you have a meeting at the Pentagon!" "Yes. But they canceled it. I didn't go to the Pentagon." When we have calmed down a bit, he asked me about the pregnancy result. That was supposed to be a sweet moment, but it was robbed by the unthinkable tragedy that was unfolding in front of our eyes. (This pregnancy also ended in a miscarriage after 12 weeks.)

Not until after we saw the damages that was done at the Pentagon did we realized how close Dan was to this attack. The area that was struck was very near to the DIA center in the Pentagon, seven DIA employees died in the attack. "I could see thick black smoke coming out from the Pentagon from the windows in my office, they evacuated us right away. (DIA is located just across the Potomac river from the Pentagon.) All officers were told to take off their hats and the ranks on our shoulders. They didn't know what was going on, but was sure it was some sort of attack. They didn't know what other forms of terrorism were out there. They didn't want the officers to be targets." Then I realized what was wrong with his uniform when I first saw him, the ranks were missing.


The explosion of the airplane penetrated 4 of the 5 rings of the newly renovated, super reinforced walls of the Pentagon. (Dan told me about the construction of the Pentagon, since he went there for meetings once in a while.)

While we were talking, our next door neighbour came out of the door with her 2 year old son. "Mike is in the Pentagon, I couldn't reach him, all phone lines were dead." It then stuck me like a ton of bricks. All of our neighbours are military personnel, many of them work in various departments of the Pentagon!

We went into our neighbours' house, we were glued to the TV while our neighbour was glued to the phone, that was her only "lifeline", but she simply couldn't get through. We saw the horrific scene of the twin towers collapsed, over and over the TV flashed the image. They almost look like Hollywood production. Then another plane crashed in Shanksville, PA.

For hours, no news from Mike. At 5:00pm, our neighbour came over and said, "Mike called, he is OK, but he can't come home tonight, everything is at a standstill. He will sleep somewhere tonight."

The following week, we received news that 2 of our neighbours didn't come home, they went missing, efforts to locate them failed. Two weeks afterwards, they identified their bodies.

The world is never the same after 9/11. Good and evil are at war. However, there is a debate on who is good and who is evil. Terrorists have a new name - Freedom Fighters. Those who were killed in the attacks are infidels. Over the years, numerous conspiracy theories about the attacks of 9/11, pointing fingers at the U.S. government as the conductor of what had happened on that fateful day. I visited those sites, all I can say is that they are basically at the same level of those who said the Americans never landed on the moon. Six years later, Osama bin Laden called for the western world to abandon capitalism and democracy, to embrace Islam.

I think of the "Freedom Fighters" who believed they were going to heaven when they took on this mission to destroy America. If they only knew where they were going. They knew the truth in the morning of September 11, 2001 when the planes they flew crashed. Standing in front of the God that did not worship, what did they have to say?


Forty slate angels grace the memorial site - each marked with the name of one of the forty heroes of Flight 93. A nearby angel plaque reads:

"Few can begin to understand what drives
men to such acts of desperation.
But the World must now know
the resolve of this great nation is both
unshakable and unstoppable.

This ordinary Americans took
extraordinary steps to help their
fellow Americans and by doing so
gave the greatest sacrifice.

And so these Angels of Freedom stand
not as a memorial to those who died,
But rather as a celebration of their lives
for which we will be forever in their debt.

God Bless the Families and Friends of the
True Heroes of September 11, 2001."

It ate too much...

I was in the kitchen making dinner, Kioni was in the living room playing with Starfall reading game. She suddenly ran into the kitchen and said with great excitement, "Mommy, there is a BIG FAT tiki on the window." Since we see tikis (flat-tailed geckos) all the time hanging out in the windows, I am not surprised to hear what Kioni was reporting, in fact, I was surprised by her excitement. I said to her, "Kioni, we see tikis all the time, thank you for telling me, go back and play, mommy has to cook."

"Mommy, this one is really BIG and FAT! Come take a look."

Since she insisted, I went into the living room and took a look, just to make her happy. I was a bit shocked at what I saw, it was a BIG FAT one alright, it is not just one of those flat-tailed gecko (about 5 inches/14 cm long) that we see all the time, it was quite unlike the one that drank coffee from my coffee pot. This one is indeed huge, about 11-15 inches/30-40cm long! With claw pads as big as a US quarter. I opened the window to try to see its markings, but it jumped to another window. I grabbed my camera and ran outside, and found it still hanging onto the window, seemingly uncertain what I was going to do to it. I quickly snap the photo below. It is a beautiful spotted gecko. Upon researching on the internet, I found out it is called a Tokay gecko, native to Southeast Asia.

Kioni is amazed by its size and said, "Mommy, that gecko is so huge because it ate too much. It must have just eaten a big mosquito."

Guess what's in my coffee pot?

Cebu has a high population of bugs, insects and little animals that eat these things. We like geckos because they take care of the mosquitoes, there are also a family of toads living outside in our yard, and because of these animals' presence, the helpers of our neighbours' reported seeing two black snakes about a month ago climbing up our tall palm bush, they obviously come because of the favourable habitat. There is quite a food chain going on. Who is at the bottom of the food chain? It would be Kioni and I, since we are the ones who got bitten by mosquitoes.

Anyway, we enjoy watching house geckos (tiki in Cebuano) catching moths and mosquitoes right on the window screens where we eat dinner every night. Kioni is particularly thrilled to see what she called "Animal Planet" right in our living room every night. We will also see them run away from various surfaces as soon as we turn on the lights in the kitchen. In the past week, a baby gecko came to live in our living room, it is no more than 1.5 inches long from head to tail. It is fun to see it grow.

This morning, however, the most unexpected happened. What I lifted the coffee pot up, I felt some movements inside. Yep! A gecko was swimming in the 1/4 inch coffee that was left overnight. I almost threw the pot on the floor, but I was calm enough to set in down on the countertop. The gecko obviously loves coffee and seemed unwilling to leave the pot, though its whole body turned brown already. I eventually took the coffee pot outside to the yard and dump everything out, coffee and all.

Needless to say, for a city girl like me, that was quite an encounter. I hope I will never see those two black snakes.

Hong Kong International Rankings

Like I said before in a previous post, I am proud to tell people that I am from Hong Kong. I recently found the following table in Answers.com listing various organizations that did rankings on countries and regions around the world. After looking at the table, I found it to be very accurate portrait of Hong Kong.

Table of Hong Kong International Rankings

Date	Contest	Host Organisation	Ranking	Note
2001–05	World's Best Airports	Skytrax	1/155 countries	Ranked 1st out of 155 countries
2002–04	Ranking of Container Ports of the World	AAPA World Port Rankings	2/10 ports	Ranked 2nd out of 50 largest ports in the world
2002	Ranking of IQ	University of Ulster	1/185 countries	Ranked 1st out of 185 countries
2005	Networked Readiness Index (NRI)	World Economic Forum	11/115 countries	Ranked 11th out of 115 countries
2005	Worldwide quality-of-life index	The Economist	18/111 Countries	Ranked 18th out of 111 countries
2006	6th Annual Global e-Government Study (Brown University)	Global e-Government	20/198 Countries	Ranked 20th out of 198 countries
2006	Annual Worldwide Press Freedom Index 2006	Reporters without borders	59/168 Countries	Ranked 59th out of 168 countries
2006	Corruption Perceptions Index	Transparency International	15/163 Countries	Ranked 15th out of 163 countries
2006	World Competitiveness Yearbook 2006	IMD International	2/61 Economies	Ranked 2nd out of 61 economies (countries and regions)
2006	World City's Skyline/Skyscrapers	Emporis Data Committee (EDC)	1/100 Major cities	Ranked #1 out of all the major cities in the World. This listing ranks cities by the visual impact of their skylines.
2006	Global Competitiveness Report - Growth Competitiveness Index Ranking	World Economic Forum	11/125 Countries	Ranked 11th out of 125 countries
2006	World's Best Airports	Skytrax	2/165 countries	Ranked 2nd out of 165 countries
2006	Business Competitiveness Index - BCI	World Economic Forum	10/121 countries	Ranked 10th out of 121 countries
2006	Human Development Index - HDI	United Nations	22/177 countries	Ranked 22nd out of 177 countries
2006	Access Index (p.19)	FedEx: The Power of Access - 2006 Access Index	1/75 Countries	Ranked 1st out of 75 countries
2006	Potential Competitiveness	Japan Center for Economic Research (JCER)	1/50 Countries	Ranked 1st out of 50 countries
2007	Travel and Tourism Competitiveness Index	World Economic Forum	6/124 Countries	Ranked 6th out of 124 countries
2007	Index of Economic Freedom	Heritage Foundation/The Wall Street Journal: 2006	1/157 Countries	Ranked 1st out of 157 Countries for 13 years in a row.
2007	World's most expensive city	ECA International:[1]	1/92 Countries	Ranked 1st out of 92 locations.

Scholarships

Though we are 'millionaires' in Cebu, we are going to be poor students again in just over a year when we go to Aberdeen for Dan's PhD studies. Life will be quite different, as you can imagine, living here in Cebu versus living in Aberdeen. Though we look forward to living in cooler weather, the cost of living there is not what we look forward to.

Dan is looking into applying for several scholarships for the PhD program now. It is daunting how much money a PhD program and the living cost in Aberdeen will cost us. Without scholarships, we will be in heavy debt when Dan emerges 3 years later with a Dr. attached to his name.

The bottom line is, we know that God is in control, if PhD is in his plan for us, we will get it done one way or the other.

What happened today

What happened today in history?
1945 - World Word II - Victory over Japan, Japan surrenders.
1947 - India gains independence from the United Kingdom and becomes an independent nation within the Commenwealth.

Also Napoleon Bonaparte, emperor of the French was born today in 1769, so was one of my favourite American cook, Julia Child, she was born in 1912.

I was also born today, 44 years ago. If I lived up to 88 years old, I have already lived half of my life, if not, than over half of my life was lived. So, there is no doubt that I am a "middle-aged" woman, which is a bit strange when I hear that term describing myself.

Looking back, the single most important thing that has happened to me was knowing Jesus Christ as my saviour, my life took a sharp turn "upwards" when it happened in the 26th year of my life.

We celebrated my birthday today in Cebu with a Starbucks' Coffee breakfast, a good homecooked dinner, (prepared by me), and a night-time family prayer. No birthday cake, no candle, but just as memorable.

Cancer's Unexpected Blessings - by Tony Snow

Whether you agree or disagree, like or hate the Bush administration and all those who are working in the administration, thoughts that are written by someone who is facing death is always inspiring. I hope the following article will provoke some thoughts on our mortality.

When you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things change.

Commentator and broadcaster Tony Snow announced that he had colon cancer in 2005. Following surgery and chemo-therapy, Snow joined the Bush administration in April 2006 as press secretary. Unfortunately, on March 23 Snow, 51, a husband and father of three, announced that the cancer had recurred, with tumors found in his abdomen—leading to surgery in April, followed by more chemotherapy. Snow went back to work in the White House Briefing Room on May 30. CT asked Snow what spiritual lessons he has been learning through the ordeal.

Blessings arrive in unexpected packages—in my case, cancer.

Those of us with potentially fatal diseases—and there are millions in America today—find ourselves in the odd position of coping with our mortality while trying to fathom God's will. Although it would be the height of presumption to declare with confidence What It All Means, Scripture provides powerful hints and consolations.

The first is that we shouldn't spend too much time trying to answer the why questions: Why me? Why must people suffer? Why can't someone else get sick? We can't answer such things, and the questions themselves often are designed more to express our anguish than to solicit an answer.

I don't know why I have cancer, and I don't much care. It is what it is—a plain and indisputable fact. Yet even while staring into a mirror darkly, great and stunning truths begin to take shape. Our maladies define a central feature of our existence: We are fallen. We are imperfect. Our bodies give out.

But despite this—because of it—God offers the possibility of salvation and grace. We don't know how the narrative of our lives will end, but we get to choose how to use the interval between now and the moment we meet our Creator face-to-face.

Second, we need to get past the anxiety. The mere thought of dying can send adrenaline flooding through your system. A dizzy, unfocused panic seizes you. Your heart thumps; your head swims. You think of nothingness and swoon. You fear partings; you worry about the impact on family and friends. You fidget and get nowhere.

To regain footing, remember that we were born not into death, but into life—and that the journey continues after we have finished our days on this earth. We accept this on faith, but that faith is nourished by a conviction that stirs even within many nonbelieving hearts—an intuition that the gift of life, once given, cannot be taken away. Those who have been stricken enjoy the special privilege of being able to fight with their might, main, and faith to live—fully, richly, exuberantly—no matter how their days may be numbered.

Third, we can open our eyes and hearts. God relishes surprise. We want lives of simple, predictable ease—smooth, even trails as far as the eye can see—but God likes to go off-road. He provokes us with twists and turns. He places us in predicaments that seem to defy our endurance and comprehension—and yet don't. By his love and grace, we persevere. The challenges that make our hearts leap and stomachs churn invariably strengthen our faith and grant measures of wisdom and joy we would not experience otherwise.

'You Have Been Called'

Picture yourself in a hospital bed. The fog of anesthesia has begun to wear away. A doctor stands at your feet; a loved one holds your hand at the side. "It's cancer," the healer announces.

The natural reaction is to turn to God and ask him to serve as a cosmic Santa. "Dear God, make it all go away. Make everything simpler." But another voice whispers: "You have been called." Your quandary has drawn you closer to God, closer to those you love, closer to the issues that matter—and has dragged into insignificance the banal concerns that occupy our "normal time."

There's another kind of response, although usually short-lived—an inexplicable shudder of excitement, as if a clarifying moment of calamity has swept away everything trivial and tinny, and placed before us the challenge of important questions.

The moment you enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, things change. You discover that Christianity is not something doughy, passive, pious, and soft. Faith may be the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. But it also draws you into a world shorn of fearful caution. The life of belief teems with thrills, boldness, danger, shocks, reversals, triumphs, and epiphanies. Think of Paul, traipsing though the known world and contemplating trips to what must have seemed the antipodes (Spain), shaking the dust from his sandals, worrying not about the morrow, but only about the moment.

There's nothing wilder than a life of humble virtue—for it is through selflessness and service that God wrings from our bodies and spirits the most we ever could give, the most we ever could offer, and the most we ever could do.

Finally, we can let love change everything. When Jesus was faced with the prospect of crucifixion, he grieved not for himself, but for us. He cried for Jerusalem before entering the holy city. From the Cross, he took on the cumulative burden of human sin and weakness, and begged for forgiveness on our behalf.

We get repeated chances to learn that life is not about us—that we acquire purpose and satisfaction by sharing in God's love for others. Sickness gets us partway there. It reminds us of our limitations and dependence. But it also gives us a chance to serve the healthy. A minister friend of mine observes that people suffering grave afflictions often acquire the faith of two people, while loved ones accept the burden of two people's worries and fears.

Learning How to Live

Most of us have watched friends as they drifted toward God's arms not with resignation, but with peace and hope. In so doing, they have taught us not how to die, but how to live. They have emulated Christ by transmitting the power and authority of love.

I sat by my best friend's bedside a few years ago as a wasting cancer took him away. He kept at his table a worn Bible and a 1928 edition of the Book of Common Prayer. A shattering grief disabled his family, many of his old friends, and at least one priest. Here was a humble and very good guy, someone who apologized when he winced with pain because he thought it made his guest uncomfortable. He retained his equanimity and good humor literally until his last conscious moment. "I'm going to try to beat [this cancer]," he told me several months before he died. "But if I don't, I'll see you on the other side."

His gift was to remind everyone around him that even though God doesn't promise us tomorrow, he does promise us eternity—filled with life and love we cannot comprehend—and that one can in the throes of sickness point the rest of us toward timeless truths that will help us weather future storms.

Through such trials, God bids us to choose: Do we believe, or do we not? Will we be bold enough to love, daring enough to serve, humble enough to submit, and strong enough to acknowledge our limitations? Can we surrender our concern in things that don't matter so that we might devote our remaining days to things that do?

When our faith flags, he throws reminders in our way. Think of the prayer warriors in our midst. They change things, and those of us who have been on the receiving end of their petitions and intercessions know it.

It is hard to describe, but there are times when suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you feel a surge of the Spirit. Somehow you just know: Others have chosen, when talking to the Author of all creation, to lift us up—to speak of us!

This is love of a very special order. But so is the ability to sit back and appreciate the wonder of every created thing. The mere thought of death somehow makes every blessing vivid, every happiness more luminous and intense. We may not know how our contest with sickness will end, but we have felt the ineluctable touch of God.

What is man that Thou art mindful of him? We don't know much, but we know this: No matter where we are, no matter what we do, no matter how bleak or frightening our prospects, each and every one of us, each and every day, lies in the same safe and impregnable place—in the hollow of God's hand.

We are back! With ants in my computer

It took us 19 days to get the internet service connected in the Mission Home! But it is done, we are connected! We surely survived without the internet, but we have very concerned family members ready to call our mission organization to see if we are OK, despite the fact that I have already warn of a long absence. I guess it is just a bit unusual, as far as our U.S. and Hong Kong families aree concerned, to take 19 days to receive internet service.

I am grateful that I am reading the news again, I am grateful to be able to reply email and do research on the internet again. However, I have a new problem, after we moved to this house, my computer start to have tiny ants crawling out from the ventilation slots. MacBook is known to have a heat problem, this must be what is forcing them to come out. I am eager to go back to Hong Kong and have the Apple people take it apart, they might actually find an ant community in there.

I love living in this "new" house, it is spaceous, even with 15 people in the house, we still have lots of space for kids to run around, what a great house for ministry.


The great room


Another view of the great room


The kitchen


Kioni's bedroom - she is sleeping in the tent, which she loves, and it also prevent mosquito bites.


The Spare Oom (see Narnia) - Kioni's homeschool and playroom

Giving the Mission Home a face-lift

We will be moving into the "Mission Home" within a week or so. There four painters working on the walls and cabinets, two ladies working on the floors, and an electrican came in earlier this week to put up some lights. The house was purchased by our mission organization almost 30 years ago, and it has not had a major face-lift since. Dan has a background in civil engineering, and he also has 10 years of experience with the Air Force in managing similar projects, working on this project is somewhat "right down his alley". However, we found out very quickly that the Filipino way of working is, of course, very different from what we are used to. From buying paint, or I should say, be able to find paint, to the concept of "work" are all quite different.

Dan's student in seminary, a wealthy Chinese businessman Teddy Uy, waived the contractor fees, while finding the best workers for us. We are thankful for Teddy. We still have to pay for all the material costs and the workers, but any penny saved is good.

Since we want to cut down on the cost and make the money go as far as possible, we are not asking the stores to mix the paint in a machine for us, which is common practise in the U.S. to ensure that you get the right colour. Doing so here is extremely expensive. Therefore, we use the Cebuano way, the painter drizzles the needed colours into a gallon of white and eye-balls it to the colour that we want. So far they have done a good job. Though that means every batch of colour is different, so they will have to mix enough to finish the paint job.

We anticipate a pause in our internet accessibility and home phone usage for a short while because of the move, therefore, don't panic if you have not heard from us for a few weeks.


Doors lined up for a second coat of paint


A lady sanding the floor in one of the bedrooms


Saw dust covering the furniture


The study having a major make-over


Sanding dust everywhere


The wooden panels from the study (chic in the 70s) from one of the rooms laying in the front yard.


Our helper, Maris, supervising the painters while Kioni watch, she is fascinated by the roller with the long pole.


The painter mixing the paint colours by drizzling the needed colours into a bucket of white paint, no measuring is needed, quite skillful, eh?

18 years

It's been 18 years, how much have changed in this 18 years. However, the heartaches have not changed.

It's been 18 years since I suddenly realize that I AM a Chinese. It was pounded into my head and my heart by the tanks that rolled into the streets of Beijing, by the students' songs when they were camping out in Tienanmen Square, by the bloody photos that was broadcasted all over TV.

That was an important day, not only because of what had happened in Beijing, but it ushered the politically numb Hong Kong people into realizing politics is not only for a handful of people, but for anyone who is concerned about what kind of society you will live in. Hong Kong was only 7 years away from turning back over to China in 1989.

I have not been able to participate in any of the gatherings since I left Hong Kong in 1996, however, every year on June 4th, my heart was as heavy as I watched the events of that fateful night unfold. I still remember the sense of disbelieve and the tears that streamed down my face. I remember sitting in front of the TV saying, "This is not possible, this is not possible....." over and over, struggling to figure out what exactly was happening in front of my eyes.

For all those who gave their lives that day, I ache for their parents whom were not allowed to remember their sons and daughters at the place where they died. I ache for those who have been in prison for the past 18 years. I ache for the government that seemingly is becoming one of the world's super powers, yet, too weak to stand up in front of the world and admit they made a mistake.

Another year has passed, what will happen next year?

A tire

We dropped our car off at the airport with a mechanic when we left for our month long Hong Kong-Xiamen-Hong Kong trip. Dan's student, Teddy Uy, who owns several used car resale and mechanic shop business offered to fix our car free of charge, we only have to pay for the parts. He sent his top mechanic, Mr. Poppy, to pick the car up at the airport on the day we flew away.

When we came back, Mr. Poppy drove our car back to the airport to pick us up. It was so nice to have our own car with so much luggage. After we loaded our car, we started out driving, planning to drop him off at his work place before we head back home. Mr. Poppy was driving the car.

10 minutes later, a popping sound alerted all of us, Mr. Poppy went out of the car to check the tire and discovered that the one of the tires was totally blown off! We had to have it replaced before we can drive our long way home. He assured us right away that the car mechanic shop that he works in is just a few blocks away. He then drove slowly with the tire clonking beneath us. A few minutes later, we were at the mechanic shop.

Dan's student, the owner of the shop, Teddy Uy, came out to welcome us. He then directed several of his mechanics to immediately replace the tire. It took about half an hour because they couldn't find the right tools from our car. Thankfully, because that is a used car shop, they have lots of different kinds of tools on hand. Everything was fixed as soon as the right tools were found. Teddy even sent one of his guys to ride with us back home, so that after we unload the car, his guy could take the car to have all of the old tires replaced in one of shops he owns.

We went home, unloaded all the luggage and the sleeping Kioni. The car was gone for a few hours, then it came back with brand new tires!

Can you imagine how God has attended to all the details? He let the tire popped when we have a mechanic in our car! If it went bad a day later, it would cost us at least double the time to figure out what to do.

This is again a witness to how good God is.

Home sweet home

After being away for a month, we are finally home. Though it is good to be away and visit families, it is especially good to be home. Though we still felt like we were "attacked" by the heat in Cebu, it is good to go back home.

Kioni shows us clearly how much she loves home. She was not eating well for the whole time we were in China and Hong Kong, but as soon as she comes home, she starts to eat again. Tonight, she had a big meal, simple food, but she clean out her plate.

We will be moving soon, to another house, but we will miss this house, which has been our "home" since we arrived 8 months ago.

More holy?

Sometimes it makes me feel uncomfortable when I think about our 'status' as missionaries, especially when people look at us and think 'Wow! You guys really love God!" "You scarificed a lot!"

We know in our hearts that we are just the same in our hearts as any Christians. We struggle to stay close to God, we struggle to be pure and holy, we struggle to obey God's will.

I started to have a taste of "you are holy than us" syndrome when I first got accepted into seminary. I remember even before I saw the inside of my seminary, friends at church already treated me like I suddenly know a lot about God and the Bible. Little did they know the reason why I went to seminary was because I felt like I was lacking knowledge in both!

Then came the time when I became a full-time worker "for God". I felt ashamed when believers thought I prayed 50 times a day and always got illuminated by the Holy Spirit when I read the Bible. Or they might say I had so much faith in God that they were ashamed of their distrust in God. Oh, boy! How I wish I could dig a hole and hide.

I sometimes asked myself if I am displaying myself as a holy person and that's why people would make those comments? Because if I was, I need to repent. The last thing I want to do is to make other people think that I obey better than they do, I have more faith than they do, and I always understand what the Bible says.

They are coming after me!

Indeed the world is becoming smaller and there are a lot more exchanges among peoples and cultures, but being a "foreigner" in Asia is still somewhat different.

It is OK for Dan, he is used to it since he married me and he has travelled to Asia many times. However, little Kioni is not understanding some of the unwanted attention that are given to her. Wherever we go in Asia, she draws attention because she how she looks. To westerners' eyes, she looks Chinese, to Chinese, she looks absolutely western. When we went to Pizza Hut in Xiamen, one of the waitress stared at us three for a long time while we were waiting for the elevator, finally she asked me if Kioni is mixed, and if I was her mother. She has an expression of total disbelief when I answered 'yes' to both of her questions. She finally said, "But she doesn't look Chinese AT ALL!'

It was fine in Hong Kong, people there see lots of foreigners, so people might turn and take a second look at her, but not much after that. In Cebu, where a lot of people worship mixed kids, thinking they are the most beautiful type of people on the planet, Kioni is physically touched a lot, on her face, on her arm, on her head, on her legs, etc. More than once, kids in Cebu just come up to Kioni and stood within 2 inches in front of her and started touching her. I don't care how old you are, you just won't put up with things like this. As a result, Kioni screams whenever she sees strangers, children or adult approaching her. "They are coming after me, Mommy!" Then she would run to me for protection. She always has this fear and said such things when someone comes a bit closer. Eventually, I have to tell her people do that to her because she is cute. She still screams, but not as loud as before.

Here is Xiamen, people are more reserved, a lot of long stares will follow us as a family, a few bold ones will touch Kioni with lightening speed. Even with just stares, they are sometimes hard to deal with. Yesterday she couldn't take it anymore and asked me over and over why people look at her and smile at her, that was when we were taking a ferry to Gulangyu. There were so many people on the ferry that she couldn't hide from them even I was holding her and she buried her face on my shoulder. Eventually, I just have to tell Kioni to ignore them. I know this is not the nicest thing to say, but she just cannot possibily deal with all these attention. I have a taste of how being a celebrity must be like. (Pay attention to the staring eyes in the background of the photo.)

Every day from going out of our hotel room, to getting into the elevator to walking in the street and sitting down in a restaurant, it never fails that she, or we, drew a lot of attention. Dan already sticks out like a sore thumb, then with me talking to Dan in English, and with a mixed kid in tow, people are bound to stare and point, this makes our outing quite uncomfortable sometimes. Both Dan and I have learned to ignore the stares, but Kioni is still figuring out why people would touch her, stare at her, smile at her, and a few even attempt to hold her.

As a mother, I feel like I have failed her when someone successfully touched her and made her scream. I feel like I failed to protect her, I was her only defense, yet some people are so quick, some sneak in from behind, some would touch her dangling leg even when I was clutching her tight in my arms.

On the up side, though, she has priviledges that a "regular" kid does not have, she gets colorful bowls and plates to eat with, she gets special little attention that other kids won't get. She has gotten so many extra gifts when we go into stores to buy things. She got a bowl and chopstick gift set because we bought a $20 USD worth of things, while that gift set is for customers who have purchased $400 USD or more. The guy behind the counter just said, "I will give you a set, just because you are so cute." She has gotten little free gifts from shops where we bought stuff. People just found her irrestibly cute and had to give her something to please her.

All in all, it is not healthy for Kioni to be admired for something that neither is her virtue nor her merit. I am worried that she would grow up being used to having people around her adoring her just because she is different looking. I am at lost in what to do right now. Maybe living in a western society will give her a better share in life. It must be hard for long-term missionaries who try to raise their children in Asia, however, I trust that God will give us a way to deal with all these if He indeed would call us to serve him long-term in Asia.