text and images britt-arnhild
Terje and I are spending one week in Hong Kong visiting friends who are staying here for a year. This part of the world is completely new to us. We have tried to read a little before we came here, still, now when we actually are here, we feel we know nothing.
One week will give us glimpses. Tiny little glimpses into a way of living so different from life in The House in the Woods.
Last night we had a Scandinavian night in our friends' house. 6 of us from Norway, 2 from Denmark.
One of the Norwegians grew up at Tao Fong Shan, and he was just a boy when war broke out in this part of the world in December 1941. Through the night he shared some of his stories. Part of a history so completely unknown to me.
I have just read The Blue Door by Lise Kristensen. Lise was another Norwegian child affected by the war in this area. With her family she lived in Java when the Japanese came and put her, together with two small siblings and their mother into a Japanese PoW camp.
Lise Kristensen's story hit me hard, so hard that I was unable to read the whole book.
Last night a man, now around 80 years old, shared his experiences from those years, not from a prison camp, still, a life filled with hardship and struggles. He took us back to this mountain in the New Territories in Hong Kong. A war going on, a daily life of struggles for food, for health, for living.
Terje and I are traveling. We are tourists.
Yet, we are so much more, or so much less.
We are apprentices of our amazing world and her living creatures. We are filled with thanks for tales shared.
Thank you Karl for your sharing. You blessed us all last night.
