Yesterday, I met Lee in China Town and had some time by chance to chat with him. With bright eyes, black hair and witty remarks, if he himself hadn't told me he was over sixty years old, I could never believe he was.

 

I know I have the gift to have others keep talking about themselves so I was not supprised at first when he began to tell me that he immigrated to Canada in 1996 and had just been back to Hong Kong a couple of years ago. Then, he told me he was originally from Guangzhou, a city in the south of China, near Hong Kong. When he was in his twenties, he literally SWAM to Hong Kong. Long cold dark night, the seething waters of the rapids. He finally made it with the help of a piece of wood. And then in his fifties, he moved to Canada from Hong Kong as an immigrant.

 

I always think that starting all over again is difficult. But look at him. What a life he has had! Chinese is a strange people. You can see Chinese all over the world. You may think that they move because they can not make a good living in China. Well, I think there must be some other underlying reasons. Why did I move? I had had a good life. Why do people move? It reminds me of a novel by Jack London, The Call of The Wild. How can a real wolf be held?

 

Some day when Lee sits on a rocking chair, he always has the noisy chilly endless night to recall. And when he tells he moved to the other hemi-sphere in his fifties, I believe most people will look at this old and thin, hale and hearty man like I did with special esteem.

 

are you a wolf a wild wolf