Marx got a laugh: Your daughter is with us Pt. 4

Pt 1 - May 31, 2007

Pt 2 - June 25, 2007
Pt 3 - September 14, 2007

Things have been developing favorably for Hua and her family in Paris since their brush with the law some time ago. It was almost a blessing in disguise: when daughter Hua was picked up on the streets and turned over to the police, concerned French neighbors rushed to the aid of these illegal immigrants from China, and suddenly the parents had a new and native source of moral and legal support, outside of the extensive Chinese network. Up to that time, Hua’s parents had been at the mercy of middle-men, such as the ‘Uncle’ figure in their story. The French Solidarity networks say that while authorities will not deport children on their own, they will on occasion wait outside of schools and detain parents who come to meet their children, probably another explanation of why the newly-arrived Hua had to walk home from school alone, as she did on the day when she was spotted by authorities.

Since then, the father has received treatment for a serious illness and appears to have recovered, Hua has a baby brother and, having been forced by the shady landlord (please see LifeBeforeNews September 14, 2007) to leave the premises, they have all moved, presumably with the aid of the local French support group, to a larger home with ‘more light.’ As far as I know, they have occasionally dropped by to greet my friends, who now have access to that almost windowless space that was once home to this Chinese family of three (and then four). The young mother seems optimistic, no longer leaning backwards in a defensive pose when spoken to in French, as she had on the evening of Hua’s detention.

The parents and the uncle were very grateful to everyone for Hua’s return home that night. The next day, the mother brought me a thank-you gift: a pair of shoes. Many people had helped the mother since her arrival from China four years earlier, and numerous shoe-boxes and bottles of whiskey had been distributed around the building. The ‘Uncle’ (eventually confirmed by the French Solidarity workers as the middle-man) made sure she was well-stocked.

The solidarity worker wanted to talk to the mother alone, without the ‘Uncle’ around, even though he, rather than the parents, was the one to comfort Hua in her fear and confusion after an evening in lock-up. This image stays with me: the rough-skinned tough guy, marked as the corrupt boss with power over illegal workers, cradling a scared child in his arms while the couple identified as the child's parents sat in frozen indifference across the room. The remarkable scene raised many questions for the onlookers, including me, the Police social worker and the French woman who had rushed to their aid.

It was this same solidarity worker who was involved when the living space was to be vacated a year later. She was as gruff and suspicious of those outside her network as Hua’s mother was buoyant, always smiling and ready to take the next hurdle.

When the moving trouble started brewing I was in the audience at the PICNIC ‘information event’ in Amsterdam, where a speaker from Beijing was presenting a project on the creative merging of cultures. He laughed along with the audience members when a statement about freedom passed across the screen. No questions were asked there either.

New Words in Dutch used in English

A credit card company offered me thirty free minutes on (in?) a golf simulator (I looked it up: a golf simulator [the Dutch word is formed by joining the two English words, and the Dutch word was used in spite of the fact that the advertisement was distributed in English], not surprisingly, creates a sort of virtual golf), thus engaging my brain in one of a myriad of wasted moments of alarm and desolation triggered by marketing campaigns.

Even though I have acknowledged feelings of being harassed by golf and its marketing campaigns since the final decade of the 20th-century, the point at which I created computer and paper files to accommodate my habit of holding on to all golf-related information which came my way, and in spite of the fact that the feelings of harassment have been toned down by my having recently embarked on a quest to find peace with golf, the truth is that it’s one of the few sports that really bothers me. I have chosen not to speak up until now, largely because a good number of individuals I like and even love are or have been committed to golf to some extent. For the time being I find it unnecessary to embellish upon the specific issues which might bring sadness to others.

It may seem that I have done everything possible to avoid talking about golf with that vulnerable group of devotees, but this is not the case. I have in fact actively pursued the subject of golf, in a manner that would allow me to learn more about the science of the sport, and explanations of certain golf-specific subjects, such as the handicap system, have invariably been complex and truly interesting. I have even gone out to play on a real golf course, dressed in golf clothes. It rained that afternoon, so the game was cancelled.

Some of the subjects in my golf files (which exist under the general heading of ‘The Rise and Fall of the Global anti-Golf Movement’ ) include: golf simulators, golf and globalization, fair pay for caddies, regional land disputes, farmland sold to golf course developers, farmers forced off their land to make way for golf courses, farmers who take up golf in their spare time, burial grounds excavated to create golf courses, environmentally-friendly golf courses, climate change and the future of golf, golf colors/fashions and accessories, the golf course as sanctuary, my Father’s private golf course in our back yard, growth and loss sectors in the golf industry, the history of golf, golf in China, golf etiquette, gender and race on the golf course, etc. Contributions to the archive are always appreciated. Thank you in advance.