NANJING CHANGSHA 2025

October 14-16 Flight:  Fifteen hours to Hong Kong then 2.5 hours to Nanjing.  Cathay Pacific again, because their arrival time to Nanjing at 1 pm was sensible.  Economy again, aisle seats to the side, not in the middle where Cathay crammed 4 seats designed for 3 on a Boeing 777.  The first miracle was the in-flight movie "Janice Ian: Breaking Silence"!  Two hours rekindling the life and songs of my favorite singer/song writer.  Hearing "Society's Child" moved me to tears; I nearly forgot the misery of being on a plane.  During transfer, my Hong Kong Airalo esim showed a local network but could not connect.  However my Asialink Airalo did connect seamlessly in Hong Kong and China.  I also had a 15 GB/30 Day China data card ($19.50 Amazon) with Google access for backup.  Internet connection is critical for GPS directions and sightseeing when traveling.

NANJING Prelude - 2 Movies:  

"Dead to Rights" was showing in a nearby theater.  Any mention of the Nanjing Massacre makes me grit my teeth, and since I had preplanned visiting Nanjing, I immediately went - not for entertainment, but because this history was finally being shown in Western cinema, and because using commercial movies to convey events is powerful. I must support it.  Long ago I had seen Frank Capra's WWII documentary, "The Battle of China," and I had also flipped through photo images in Iris Chang's books.  The atrocities were unbearable!  At the AMC in the mall,  I sat in the first row mid-section. The screening room was unusually full, mostly Chinese/Asian, adults and children - good! The film was inevitably haunting, although horrific scenes were concise, matter of fact,  without Hollywood style shock techniques.  The plot followed a young Japanese officer tasked with documentation, showing his transformation from naivety to brutality.  The film of course replicated events that Japan vehemently denied to this day.  Irrefutable evidence, however, was the perverse photographs and films they themselves took for fun and jest, which were preserved by God's Will for release to the world in due time.  The woman to my right sobbed the whole time. Lights came on; audience applauded.  I asked the 3 Chinese/Asian teenagers to my left what they thought.  Silence.

My friend Leo said, "You need to watch "731" to truly understand how those Japanese #$&@ were."  Since toddler time, I heard adults recount their firsthand horrors of the Japanese invasion. Deaths and starvation, and then eight years of bloodshed in Southeast Asia ended by American atomic bombs. Nagasaki and Hiroshima suffered greatly; ground zero in Hiroshima became a memorial to their victims.  Wars are cruel, employing cunning and ruthless ways to destroy the enemy.  Much history of human warfare had been lost and untraceable.  Everyone knows the atrocities of Nazi Germany in World War II, yet the Japanese military committed no less.  "731" describes yet another level of Japan's madness, was an eye opener for me, who could barely stomach even what I previously knew.   The Japanese government refuses to acknowledge any of it.  "Lies become truth if you repeat it a thousand times" according to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi propaganda chief.  My Japanese friends naturally believe their native teachings: no massacre, no chemical warfare, no torture, free willing comfort women - 80 years of Japanese self-deception.  In 2007 Japan Prime Minister, Abe Shinzo said, "It lacks evidence to prove that Japanese troops forcibly recruited Asian women to be sex slaves.” As the world turns, outlandish textbooks may continue, but in this information age, sorry, those shameful deeds left a ton of evidence. 

Mass Grave

One among 40-70 Nanjing Comfort Brothels 

10 Days Nanjing: 

Baidu Map indicated Xinjiekou (新街口 New Block) Station converged all metro lines, and so my hotel choice was there.  Metro Line 1 arrived at this station that had  24 exits!  Baidu indicated a 6 minute walk to Exit 14, but I must had weaved through a mile before coming to street daylight.  Not only me, many pedestrians were nose to phone wandering cluelessly.  Even with GPS, the streets were haphazardly blocked everywhere, crossing underground or over a bridge may be the way, or it may lead to another planet.  No one will help - too many innocent looking scammers pretending to be lost tourists?  Where were the police, servants of the people?  The only folks that could find any place within China were the food delivery moped drivers, but they were top guns on a mission and unstoppable.  They honked coming from behind; 1, 2, or 10 would zoom by on sidewalks and anywhere.  These road warriors made an average of ¥6 ($0.84) per delivery.  Instead of unemployment or praying for miracles, even college grads opted to hustle these jobs until better gigs happen.  One midnight, someone pounded my 7th floor hotel room door by mistake - next door ordered food.  

At 8 a.m. en route to 378 Alley (三七八巷), the day's excitement was wound up on roads and traffic. I was the only one strolling leisurely to the bus stop. 378 was a bona fide neighborhood street market. Shopping for brunch to be enjoyed back in my hotel room, I bought a quarter roast duck, sweet lotus root, sesame baked bread, mixed vegetables, cold tofu pudding, and some fresh figs. Upon hearing my mangled Putonghua (普通話), the tofu lady asked where I was from, was tofu pudding available in the U.S., and for how much. I replied the same as her price, 4, but in USD not RMB. Her eyes widened and proposed to come work for my future tofu shop in the U.S. On this China trip, I had decided to smile a lot at people. When I was taking the empty seat next to a grandma, her steadfast frown looked serious.  I smiled anyway, and then after hesitation, she greeted me. Nice!

Another perk at Xinjiekou was the Deji (德基）Shopping Mall, which lavished a decadent restroom on each of the six floors.  This gimmick sucked in locals and tourists to marvel, to lounge, but more importantly, to photograph, and lastly, to pee/poop in luxury.  It appeared that public spaces must be photo worthy.  Unthinkable new building designs (coming soon: Zendai Himalayas Center), enhanced old landmarks glamorously lit up at night, and heroic monuments were icons of pride and photo op.  To celebrate a revival of lyrical eras, Tang/Sung/Han costumed beauties could be seen strolling in parks and landmarks, usually followed by camera ready boyfriends.  I was in awe everyday. 

Nanjing was more magnificent then I could ever imagine - the Ming Dynasty!  Museums, with artifacts from rudimentary to Ming's masterful crafts, were time travel experiences.  Nanjing, the imperial capital, all began with Zhu, Yuanzhang (朱元璋).  This guy started out with nothing. To stay alive from starvation, he was a pauper turned monk turned soldier fighting the Yuan Dynasty (circa Genghis Khan 1271).  In 1368, age 41, he crowned himself.  His reign enforced law and order and was ruthless against corruption.  He had executed family members and war buddies to solidify zero tolerance.  He ruled for 30 years.  The Ming Dynasty lasted 276 years.  The Qing Dynasty (Yuan ethnicity) took back over, as the masses were hungry again due to imperial mismanagement.  Nanjing today, after dynastic and foreign wars should not have a scrap left.  Amazingly, China tirelessly maintained and rebuilt many historic sites.  The originally 22 mile Ming City Wall (longest brick city wall in the world) still has 13 miles standing with original bricks and engravings. Emperor Zhu and his wife's Ming Xiaoling Mausoleum (明孝陵) was grand; it was a challenge to walk through the paths.  In olden days, folks on horses had to get off the horse (落馬站) miles away.

  

The third emperor Zhudi / Yongle the Great, (朱棣/永樂大帝) usurped his inexperienced nephew, lead his dynasty to prosperity and stability with the same iron fist as his father, the first emperor.  Notable was his Great Bao'en Temple (大報恩寺), a tower to memorialize his parents.  The current replacement tower at the location was made of glass and steel with bling bling lights at night that the public loved.  Even more notable was that he moved the capital from Nanjing to Beijing!  Currently the Nanjing Palace location was kept as an enormous park.  Supposedly the Beijing Palace (故宮) was designed after Nanjing's.  Therefore the current Beijing Palace including the Forbidden City (紫禁城) behind Tiananmen Square (天安門), where Qing royalties comfortably lived for 268 more years was actually built by this Ming Emperor!  Yongle built Beijing's Temple of Heaven (天壇) too.  

In Nanjing, as in most Chinese cities, popular sites usually require WeChat reservations days earlier.  

我的南京打卡：德基廣場 三七八巷 朝天宮 南京博物館 侵華日軍南京大屠殺遇難同胞紀念館 三個必勝博物館 夫子廟 明瓦朗美食街 南京總統府 玄武湖 明城牆 大報恩寺 中華門 老門東 利濟行慰安所舊址陳列館 雨花台 瞻園 美齡宮 明考陵+博物館 金熙宅第  南京大排檔 五台山先鋒書店 明故宮舊址 頤和路歷史文化街第11區 中山碼頭長江渡輪 浦口碼頭

7 Days Changsha: 

Having lived in Los Angeles most of my life, I had culture shock in Changsha!  It was 4 hour 1,100 mile super train southward from Nanjing to Changsha.  Sunday 2 p.m.  Upon entering the metro after exiting the train, I was taken aback by the sight of wall to wall people!  My hotel was at the core of Wuyi commercial area, easy access to all directions; each led to pedestrian promenades that were madly lively. Vendors and repetitive recordings competed for attention, selling the same must eat must buy local specialties: fried sweet dough ball, stinky tofu, meat skewers, dried whole pressed duck, special milk tea that young folks lined up for, and much more. Folks casually snacked and drank while walking and avoiding mopeds, and  sometimes even cars, driving by.  I sat on a stool tucked away from danger, with a take out bowl of cow brain in mild spice sauce - delicious. 

Baidu map indicated from Wuyi to Orange Isle (橘子洲) would be 1.5 km (less than a mile) walk.  I ventured there to see the colossal Young Mao Zedong head statue.  The mile required crossing a highway bridge over the Xiangjiang River (湘江) that allowed a narrow sideway for walkers and, inevitably, annoying mopeds.  The river was pretty, but the mile felt much farther.  Having finally landed at the entrance, it turned out Mao was 2.5 miles at the other tip of the island.  There were tour sales people waving at newcomers.  The ticket office showed sightseeing fares that were confusing.  It wasn't obvious that there was a ￥20 tram available each way.  I walked the 2.5 serene but tiresome miles along the river hoping Mao would appear shortly.  I envisioned being impacted like the first time I saw the Statue of Liberty.  Mao was schooled in Changsha at age 17; the 105 foot granite head statue depicted him handsome and youthful.  Everyone snapped more than enough selfies having walked this far.  Thank God for the tram back.  

Amid the beautiful Mount Yuelu (嶽麓山) still stood the one thousand year old Yuelu Academy (嶽麓書院), uphill adjacent to, and now annexed by,  the Hunan University (湖南大學).  It was deduced that the business school that Young Mao attended was part of the predecessor of  Hunan University.  Young Mao had considered a business vocation.  He quit after only one month, because all courses were taught in English, but no course actually taught English. Yuelu was a meeting destination for Mao and his cohorts at the start of their activism.  A plaque hung at the reception hall, inscribed in 1917 by the principal of the academy reads "Seeking Truth from Facts" (實事求是), was said to be inspirational to Young Mao and became his moto.  Along with much poetic scenery, there were also tombs and memorials of revolutionary martyrs.  

Mawangdui (馬王堆) excavated Western Han Dynasty royal (but not emperor) tombs buried 2200+ years ago.  So far 3 burials (man, woman, adult son) were found.  Everything was preserved almost intact!  The woman wore 20 layers of silk clothing, colors and textiles remained vivid and substantial! See the cafeteria style meal tray, as they didn't share dishes back then.  The oval-shaped vessels were wine cups.  Everyday necessities including food stock remained:  duck, rabbit, other meats, dried or reduced to bones. Produce, fruits, beans, grains, and seeds, were dried.  Written items on silk and bamboo were still clear and legible!  The body was naturally buried in 4 coffin layers.  The woman's face, arms, and legs were white but fleshy.  Her hair black.  (No photo allowed, but available online).  No other burial preservations for over 20 centuries were this successful!  Simply amazing.

我的長沙打卡：太平老街 波子街 黃興步行街 橘子洲景區 湖南博物館 馬王堆 潮宗文化街區 岳麓山 金蘋果大市場 人和友 泰國嘉年華賣場 萬秀城服裝超市 長沙博物館

4 Days Hong Kong:

CHENGDU CHONGQING YANGTZE BEIJING CHINA 2025

Two months before the US China trade war of 145% and 125% mutual tariffs, in February I had already bought round trip Cathay Pacific's Hong Kong Beijing flights: USD $951, and $63 $55 for aisle seats. Cattle class seats were brutal. Coming and going, both were guys in the trapped seat next to me. Inevitably their elbow on the armrest had to invade my space. Breathe and relax, because I had to.  I checked in my carry-on(!) luggage and placed my backpack in the upper bin to maximize sit space. Even by the aisle, my outer foot must stay within the seat's confine, in order not to get hit by a service cart or passerby. 15 hours. I watched the Bob Dylan movie "A Complete Unknown." Noteworthy was the  actress's rendition of Joan Baez's "House of The Rising Sun." I always loved Dylan's version. On the way home I watched "Becoming Led Zeppelin." Time spared no one; once sweet face and wild, now graceful but nevertheless aged, Jimmy, Robert, and John（sadly drummer John Bonham died young) recounted their striking moments with glimmer and satisfaction in their eyes and lips. My brother took me to see them in concert at the LA Forum in the 1970's. Those were the days. 

Back to the trade war. I probably wouldn't have made plans to China had I known that the battle could escalate so quickly. Anything could happen; who could predict, borders could shut down.  I remembered watching on TV how folks scrambled to take the last copter out of Saigon.  Travel for leisure shouldn't be so dramatic.  I did already pay for hotels and transportation, and so with prayers, I went.

April 17 - May 7, 2025

I took 复兴號 (Fuxing, "revival") high speed train from Hong Kong to Chengdu 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Cutting from south to north, there was nothing glamorous outside the window. I saw modest, although transformed, villages.  Brush barriers by rail tracks appeared approaching every town, probably to lessen train disturbance to the neighborhoods; industrial structures and farmlands were mostly world standard utilitarian; residential housing amid rural areas were mostly flat top box buildings, single or multi levels; and prominent skyscrapers appeared at bigger towns.  

CHENGDU has a load of history. I learned on this trip that it was the capitol of several periods since BC, including during the Three Kingdoms (AD 221-263). One day I aimed for 錦里古街 (Jinli Street, "Brocade and Silk").  It was an ancient commercial area 2000 years ago. The Qing Dynasty revived or duplicated the district.  It became a tourist attraction of snacks and gift shops. Serendipitously I wandered into neighboring 武候祠 (Wuhou Temple, "Royal Martial") and happened upon the burial places of 諸葛亮 (most famous military genius) and 劉備 (Shu Han emperor)!  Suddenly these historical figures were no longer theatrical or comic book characters. Thousands of years of history got real.

What is this? 
Made 4000 years ago! 

History went way further for me on this trip. I visited 三星堆 (Sanxingdui, "Three Stars Pile"). It was a major excavated habitat of 4000 years ago, around the time of Egyptian pyramids! Fantastic alien looking bronze heads and oddly connected creatures and plants sculptures aplenty and still more to dig. As proven by worldwide historical relics, human being's inventiveness and craftsmanship were already A+ back thousands of years ago. I come to think that we, today, are not any smarter than people back in the BC's, the crucial aspect of social evolution was the advancement of tools. The same powerful human brain that made the prehistoric flint stone made the smartphone of our time. There are plenty of indigenous medical methods that still work! 

“CHONGQING is cyberpunk!” I was instantly attracted and freaked upon seeing some vlogs on YouTube.  Gauging the Yangtze River as the base level, videos showed a curious mountainous cityscape of modern and ancient, western and Chinese buildings, with highways wrapped round and round multiple levels. Mid-air cable cars were part of the city's transportation across the Yangtze. Buses and cars on pristine roads (no potholes) at all levels, and then there was the famous metro train that ran through a residential building! Good enough for me to get off the couch and go take a look. 

 

On the way to 紅岩革命紀念館 (Hongyan Revolutionary Memorial Hall), I took Metro Line 2, which pleasantly surprised me as it indeed ran right into a building. I got off at 李子垻站 (Liziba Station) inside the building, and then had to go 6 floors down to river level, in order to transferred to Bus 318.  

I knew Chongqing would be physical. To my surprise, I didn't overly suffer, as I basically avoided up-step paths. Although not always conveniently located, there were escalators or elevators somewhere. I heard there is a 25-story apartment building with no elevator! The trick was to zigzag on elevators through interconnected neighboring buildings. I saw plenty of elderly people everywhere, some even toting loads. They must know something we tourists don't know. 

Earlier in my life, I knew of Chongqing as “Chung King.” There was a Chung King Road in Los Angeles Chinatown. Later I heard about Chongqing’s successful defense against Japan in WW2.  History recorded that Japan conquered over half of China by land battles, but it could not infiltrate Chongqing due to its inland location and natural mountain barriers. Japan resorted to aerial massacre, bombing Chongqing indiscriminately to bring China to its knees, for 6 full years. History recorded an immense devastation, but Chongqing never gave in. WW2 ended in 1945.  

  

My hotel was at 解放碑 (Jiefangbei, "Liberation Monument") Pedestrian Street.  Prior to 1980, the  monument was the highest Chongqing structure.  It is now surrounded by flashing neon name brands.  With reverence to the monument, I prayed for World Peace. Amen.  

My friend Candy took the high-speed train from Hong Kong to Chongqing, to joined me on the 3-night /4-day YANGTZE RIVER CRUISE on the Century Paragon.  Candy, lady of few words, was an ideal travel buddy.  Her trip's focus was photography, so I was glad to finally get photos of me that were not selfies.  

Downstream west to east, for 3 nights the ship meandered through vertical gorges, I anticipated a meditative lyrical river experience.  As much as the Yangtze had nourished centuries of living, human effort to curb flood, store water, generate electricity, and improve shipping had necessitated the building of dams.  Much was sacrificed.  Long established families by the river were relocated.  Their homes submerged.   The Century Paragon was pretty enough by international standards.  Fellow passengers were 95% native Chinese.  During the May 1st Labor Day holiday, there were plenty of preteen children and their parents or grandparents.  The ship catered to this majority.  All meals were Northern Chinese food.  Thank God they had fresh grind coffee and free French and California wine.  As serene as this slow cruise could have been, I quickly knew that it wasn't going to happen.  The second day was the best.  I declined the opportunity for an excursion.  With more than half of the ship gone, the deck became spacious, and the river was finally peaceful for those few hours.  Praise!   

The Yangtze Cruise ended at Yichang City.  I took the 10 p.m. Train T50, upper soft sleeper, 17 hours to Beijing.  On this old China train, to get onto the upper bunk, I first threw my luggage and backpack up there, took off my hiking boots, grabbed the guard rail and another anchor, stepped on a latch (no ladder), and pulled my body up over onto the bed.  Up there was ample storage space; I was comfortable and slept for hours.  I awoke to a fully occupied cabin of 2 upper and lower bunks.  It was daylight but hours before Beijing.  In the dining car I paid RMB ￥30 that included a cup of tea and a bowl of noodle soup.  There was no one besides cafe attendants.  I enjoyed quiet time looking out the window.  

I was able to get on public transportation everywhere by clicking Alipay "transport" and presetting the city onto my phone, so that once I arrived, the QR codes were available to scan for metro or bus.  Alipay payments instantly debited from my US credit card by market rate.  No currency conversion disadvantage for foreigners.  For the one guy busy grilling lamb skewers, I scanned the shop's posted QR, my phone showed RMB￥25, I entered my passcode, done.  The guy heard￥25 received.  No cashier involved.  

BEIJING:  My hotel at 前門 (Qianmen, "Front Door") was walkable to 天安門 (Tiananmen Square) and 故宮 (Ancient Palace).  Many landmarks require an hour on metros or buses, and plenty of walking even at the location.  I figured walking at least 3 miles per day.  There were many landmarks worth visiting; most places honored free senior admission with passport ID.  

The 1983 movie 火燒圓明園 (The Burning of Imperial Palace) had left an indelible impression on me.  Growing up in the US, the British and the French were often portrayed as elegant and well-mannered peoples.  I was shocked that the movie depicted their abominable violence and greed in 1860 during the 2nd Opium War.  On this Beijing trip, I made a posthumous memorial visit to the site.  圓明園 (Yuanmingyuan Park) is now a public attraction, the park has been fixed up and beautiful,  but the Foreign Mansion was left in ruin for the world to see.  

When the plane returned me to LAX, there were separate lines for Visitors, Green Card Holders, and Citizens at the Customs and Border Control. I eyeballed about 800 people lined up at "Visitors," the winding line was barely moving. I guessed foreigners now need to be screened thoroughly.  I whizzed through "Citizens" with zero waiting time. Another fabulous trip.

CHAOZHOU CHINA 2025

January 2025 Southern California Fire  

🙏“Dear Heavenly Father, we come before you in prayer seeking your spirit of comfort for our troubled minds. Lord, we feel overwhelmed and need your aid to calm our thoughts and grant us a sense of clarity and direction. Please fill our hearts with your peace that surpasses all understanding, help us to release our worries and fears to you, trusting in your plan for our lives. We pray for your strength and courage to guide us in facing these challenges. Grace and the Holy Name of Jesus we pray, Amen.” (CREDIT)

3 hours South Korea ICN  During my transfer at ICN airport, I inserted the 5ber sim, pre-downloaded with Airalo's 18-country Asialink esim, into my phone. SK Telecom and Airalo showed, but no Internet! With ICN’s free wifi, I text chatted for 2.5 hours with 3 Airalo robots one after another, and then I had to board the next flight. Upon arrival in Hong Kong, the Internet was instantly connected. I gave credit to Airalo’s tech support, that was, until I had no internet again on the return flight stopping in ICN. Luckily the esim worked smoothly in Macau and China. Especially in China, I could access Google!

4 Days Macau  The Macau government offered foreign visitors free bus/ferry transportation from HKG airport directly to Macau port. I barely made it to the end of the 2024 deadline and was able to board the free bus at SkyPier Terminal. Once again I crossed the world’s longest sea crossing, the 34 mile HZMB bridge. Upon exiting the Macau port, I bought the Macau Pass for the starting amount of MOP$130 (USD$16.12). MOP$100 was immediately available to tap and ride Bus 101X waiting outside, as well as ride any bus during my visit, and use as acceptable digital payment at most businesses. Unknown to me, I arrived on the same day that China President Xi arrived to celebrate Macau’s 25 years of homecoming since 1999. Festivity was in the air with red banners and celebratory decorations throughout town. From 2006, casinos began to appear on a landfill, which amazingly connected the islands of Coloane and Taipa into one continuous land. CoTai’s casino conglomerates brought designer shops, Michelin restaurants, and world landmarks to Macau. Glamour in grand scale naturally drew lookie-loos and patrons from near and far. The world class casinos had been welcomed spectacles and an economic booster for the locals to enjoy as well. Away from such “Las Vegas of the east,” Senado Square, the town center, was kept beautiful and photogenic. Elsewhere, most buildings and streets had seen better days. If I were in an alley or anywhere, without fail, roaring motorcycles would approach, honking at me to get out of the way. There were few traffic lights. Soon enough I understood that when folks can’t rely on regulatory controls, survival mode would kick in. Organized chaos was necessary and effective to save everyone’s time. As most of Macau aged through time with little renovation, it sustained much historical charm by default.

12 Days Hong Kong  After a quiet winter 2023, I craved the festivities in Hong Kong as seen on YouTube. Moreover, I wished to celebrate 2024 into 2025 among good friends there. Indeed, I was warmly welcomed. Special thanks to:  😀Winnie and 阿景 - for Christmas Eve, and New Year Eve! 😀Leo, 維記, Francis - for 南華會食點心打保齡, 大開眼戒!  😀Candy - for the home dinner, 深圳, 聖誕雞翼, and Bombay Sapphire! 😀Sam and Winnie - for 深圳, Patron, and 紅磡晚餐埋單！😀Freddy and 阿忠 - for 牛脷酥 from 天水圍, Johnny Walker Black, 臨別晚餐埋單！😀Tony - for 蜜蘭香 tea! 😀Ivy and 阿明 - for 捧場 😀宏記 - for 難得見面！😀Cousin 明仔一家 & All Other Friends - May we meet again!

4 Days Chaozhou  I knew my prior 10-year China entry visa had a few days left before expiration. Therefore, I didn’t mind that the 144 hour-no-visa perk did not apply to me, as I did not fly directly into China.

I pre-bought round trip train tickets at Hong Kong's West Kowloon Station and made a trial run the day before, to avoid being lost in the labyrinth of the Element Mall connected with the station. The best route was to take the metro, Tuen Ma Line to Austin Station, C exit, which was a smooth walk into the ticketing and departure level.

At the train station, I went to a Bank of China ATM that had HKD and RMB. As it turned out, only China debit cards could withdraw RMB. I exchanged USD$100 at an exchanger, which paid out only 90% in RMB. I felt having some RMB cash was necessary. My International Alipay app was tied to my U.S. credit card before leaving home. At first I was apprehensive, but it was absolutely easy, practical, and the exchange rate was the same as using my credit card directly. I pre-set my credit card notification to email me the USD amount of the transaction.

The ride to ChaoShan was only 2.5 hours on high speed 和諧號 (Harmony) at 190+ miles per hour. If not for the moving views outside the window, the train ran like it was not moving.

ChaoShan Station to my hotel, near Chaozhou People's Square, took an hour on Bus K2 for RMB$9 (USD$1.23). Once in town, a bus ride usually costs RMB$2 (USD$0.27). I saved some RMB$1’s for the bus, as I was not proficient with Alipay. One night I was too tired to walk or to find the bus, I took a stray motorcyclist’s offer to ride back to the hotel. The ride was 15 minutes for RMB$20 (USD$2.73).  I could not use didi on my Alipay; it required a China phone number to sign up.  For the hour trip on return to ChaoShan station, my hotel called me a didi (taxi) for the predetermined price of RMB$60 (USD$8.18).  The driver dropped me off inside the train station!  Didi or taxi’s were very inexpensive. 

Free Wi-Fi in my hotel could not access Google. I was pleasantly surprised that I still had Google Map, Whatsapp and YouTube using my foreign esim. In China, Google map was not as precise as Baidu map navigation, which I relied on to take public transportation and walk about.

I sighed with relief that the city kept most of its rustic charm. The Ancient City area upkept historical houses, streets, temples, gates, bridges, and pagodas existed as far back as the Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD). The Chaozhou Museum in the People's Square, which I entered by passport identification without prior reservation, housed excellent resources to understand Chaozhou since antiquity and displayed their bravery and sacrifices toward the founding of New China.

Among the Chinese, Chaozhou people’s ambitions and abilities were known to be outstanding. Therefore, I imagined another hyperactive China city with an eyeful of sparkling highrises in a hurry to transform into a grand metropolis. Instead, I saw that their outstandingness was holding fast to their preferred culture and lifestyle, regardless of the busy objectives of everyday life. Their version of “stop and smell the coffee” was stop and smell the tiny cups of gongfu tea. UNESCO had recognized Chaozhou “gongfu tea” on its Cultural Heritage list. On any street, I saw the tiny tea sets ready to entertain outside or inside of shops. Just walking by, I was invited to sit down and had several cups. The shopkeeper and her friend treated me nicely but casually, as if I were a neighbor. The tea was hot and intense, like shots of cognac. Tea houses were mindfully decorated for tranquility. I walked into one that felt like the classical mansion in “Dream of the Red Chamber.” The young proprietor said RMB$98 (USD$13.38) for 2 to 4 people in a private room that included tea and sweets. And then I happened upon Pinyu Tea House ( 品羽茶屋). Hearing my interest, Master Long 龙素芳 served me up an authentic tea experience. Magnanimous Chaozhou hospitality!

NUUK & QAQORTOQ GREENLAND 2024

I saw this scene on my 60 inch TV.  The movie “Where'd You Go, Bernadette” was filmed in Greenland. The seed had planted. As fate would have it, a timely cruise brochure came in my mail. Greenland via Boston! Hallelujah, a direct route in North America!

My friends (Anita and Irene) and I booked an iceberg excursion; I fantasized seeing what Bernadette saw.

Eyeballing the ship, the plus for me was that the majority of passengers were “baby boomers.” I favored quieter company. It was lovely to see Vietnam vets and hard rockers, now silver haired, flabby, and slow, escorted their silver haired other half on the dance floor to “Witchy Woman.”

Off Canada, the Labrador Sea was blue and 60° F. Coffee, lox with cream cheese, sausage, potato, and egg at the breakfast buffet was a treat to wake up to. Dinner was unexpectedly tasty. I enjoyed the first 5 of the 17 days aboard.

And then routine set in. My fault. I could easily feel bored and trapped, even in a floating paradise. Like a zombie I walked the lobby, the shops, the art gallery, the photo gallery, the lounges, the casino, the theater, the library, the arcade, the spas, and the deck. I didn't participate in any of the many ship activities.

The casino was the ship's hot spot. Open smoking was even allowed at some slot nooks. Slot games had evolved into complicated criss-crosses with many funky icons and winning possibilities. Sounds and flashing animations of payout were nonstop. Players could immerse into a circus-like atmosphere by sitting and moving a few fingers. Some passengers came on board with free stateroom, wifi, laundry, alcohol, spa, and even free gambling money. Winners from the start! The cruise company was charitable to devoted players.

My perks were cones of soft vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream, and impromptu chats with fellow travelers. Otherwise it was back to the cabin to watch episodes of “Cheers,” or (yuck!) “The Love Boat.”

When the ship passed above Canada, the sea turned foggy, gray, and turbulent. I was impatient for my first glimpse of Nuuk. Weather forecast was 40° F.

Where was the ice? Saw none in Nuuk. Saw one iceberg floating still, and a scattered few at some far distance in Qaqortoq, and that was it. In August, summer, nowhere in these parts were white or frozen. Instead, left exposed in clear weather were striped granite boulders and land masses that looked pristine and other worldly. 

Like Copenhagen’s “Mermaid,” which tourists flocked for selfies, this Denmark territory, Nuuk, had the “Mother of the Sea” statue. Unbelievably, the statue was already defaced–a nipple was chipped off, and white paint splattered on the breasts. Was the criminal a local or a tourist?

Inuit clothing, equipment, and artifacts displayed at museums attested to this people’s survival and leisure abilities. Extreme weather heavy duty outfits nevertheless were decorated up to the hilt. They made figurines, musical instruments, and fashion accessories.  A food storage bag made of seal skin, sewn with seal sinew thread and bone clasp was genius. But all that was historical. 

Now they have the Internet! Now they could enjoy lightweight insulated puffer jackets! Their supermarkets are well stocked with reasonably priced Denmark products.

On that Sunday in Nuuk, locals young and old went about town like anywhere in the world. Suddenly a little girl caught my eyes. It felt like a Twilight Zone moment; she looked like me when I was a child! Unlike any kid I've seen for many years, the little girl dressed in simple clothes–not in pastel, no cutesy cartoons, nor blinky shoes. Her face was somewhat Asian, but likely she was Inuit. Her black hair was scissored straight across her forehead, and straight across below her ears in the back. A simple home cut, deja-vu!

Heavy fog. Nanortalik port was canceled at the last minute. My Bernadette iceberg rendezvous was hopeless. Good grief, I thought, if icebergs weren't floating everywhere in Greenland, why bother go looking for them? Plenty in Alaska! Talks also circulated among passengers that we were lucky to miss only one Greenland port, because others had cruised-in 2 separate or 4 separate times without landing in any port at all. I gasped.

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON 2024

Amtrak Coast Starlight coach was 34 hours from Los Angeles Union Station to Seattle King Street Station. I was comfortable in the spacious front seat that could recline to 135 degrees. Three friends opted to experience this long ride with me. We brought along snacks and enjoyed each other’s company for miles of daylight scenery. Our Car #3 was all Seattle bound passengers, which was nice, because there were no coming and going at different stops. Two college-age young ladies, at our opposite aisle, both appeared to be traveling singly, each kept to herself the entire time. Is it easier to converse with strangers online, but not in person? A woman brought her chihuahua. Half way northbound in California, an inspector came to tell her she needed to leave the train at the next stop. The woman teared up and pleaded. A few stops later, she and her chihuahua returned to the same seats. The dog never did make any noise. To our surprise, we were allowed to pay for fine dining, which were normally reserved for sleeper passengers. For $45, it was a delicious 3 course meal with one alcoholic drink plus a variety of soft beverages. The trick to sleeping on coach was to cushion my lower back, wear a cupped eye mask, and pull up my flannel blanket.  

Don’t bother to look for or buy the ORCA card as advised on websites. The King Street Station did not even have bus/metro ticket machines. In the dark hours of 8:30 pm, we just got on the bus. Passengers on Bus #1 toward Belltown were a few raggedy types, slumped over in their seats. The bus driver waived our fares. A standing fellow told us, “it’s ok.” At night, downtown’s prime intersections looked sad. Graffiti walls complemented the down and outs scattered against storefronts or plopped face down on sidewalks. No tents in view was unusual for this visitor from Los Angeles.  

Seattle's melancholy weather, people's calmer demeanors, and the city's high-tech legacy enhanced the city’s sophisticated feel. There were fewer junk food franchises. Liquor with a meal was widely available. Highrises sustained elegance in form and function, showcasing an artistic and mindful architectural community. We stayed at an Airbnb near the Space Needle. Our unit was 600+/- square feet, but it had 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms with spacious living and window views. The Space Needle was “Star Trek’s” version of a futuristic cityscape. Frank Gehry’s Museum of Pop Culture may be his best work. The University of Washington campus looked “ivy league.” Amazon, UPS, Starbucks, REI, Bill Gates all made prominent landmarks to commemorate their success.  

1942

Gates Foundation 

 

SPECIAL THANKS to Elizabeth!  My friends and I had wished to visit the Japanese American Exclusion Memorial Park 3.2 miles away.  There was no public transportation in Bainbridge Island on Sunday. We met Elizabeth and her son while waiting for breakfast at the fabulous Madison Diner.  Incredibly she offered us a ride there and back.  Meeting such a beautiful person was the absolute highlight for us. God Bless her and hers.  Elizabeth is the CEO of Prakash Organic beauty products:  www.prakashog.com 

We tried Pike Place Chowder as recommended by every YouTuber introducing Seattle. Indeed it was flavorful, but salty. My takeout tab added a 20% tip by default, and the same was on my friend’s tab. I wrote to their management with a screenshot of my statement charge. We must check our receipts even on takeouts anywhere! Unexpectedly I received a full refund to my credit card. Chowder-wise, Ivars Seafood Bar’s was smooth, flavorful, and loaded with clams without over saltiness. And $5 less for the same size. 

Metro 1 Line (not to be confused with Bus #1) for a $3 adult ticket was the public transportation to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Long walks to and inside the terminal, and then a train connection were necessary to reach Gate S6. Security check was tough, I went through it 3 times. Second time because I forgot to place my cell phone in the bin. Third time was that my tablet was inside my carry-on. That's another reason to take the train. 

HONG KONG 2023

My Story 

During the 1967 anti-colonial government riot, my family left our one and a half units in the resettlement tenements of Li Cheng Uk 李鄭屋邨徙置區 to emigrate to America. 

The 7-story tenement was genius. There were 19 stacks in our “estate.” And there were more such estates in Kowloon. The British were top notch at reorganizing chaotic populations. They had to deal with the influx from Mainland, and displaced squatters from encampments that were destroyed by fire, etc. In the end, they housed everyone, albeit, into 120 square feet concrete cells that came with just a wooden window and a wooden door, and no built-in electricity, gas, or water. It was up to the occupants to cope and alter any way they must. There was no code or occupancy limit to slow anything down. Each floor had a men and a women toilet-rooms, and a men and a women bring-your-own-bucket bathing-rooms with stalls but no doors, which were near the faucet-room for easy water access. I dreaded dim and sweaty floors, with unsanitary edges, corners, and occasional flying or crawling bugs. Unlike other kids, I could never be barefooted in these rooms. My mother bought me wooden clogs to wear.  Kindergarten was on the top floor. Again, a perfect designation, as kids could not be lost coming and going.  Alas, climbing the steps to and from 7 stories was obligatory exercise.  Street level units, taking advantage of walking traffic, were generally home shops.  Street level had the additional perk of having a foot-wide drainage gutter that ran the length of all four sides around the building, where dumping liquid, including peeing was convenient.  Inevitably the gutter had clutters of wastes too, but somehow a flow was maintained. My mother placed a board in front of our unit, for me and our cat to cross. During rain or typhoons, children made paper boats to float down the gutter.  Our “kitchen,” like every neighbor’s, made use of the threshold just outside our unit.  My mother cooked on a portable kerosene stove, had a few utensils and pots, and a big tank that held water fetched from the faucet room.  There was no storage, so my mother bought groceries every day from street vendors.  Bargaining dimes and nickels was customary and sociable that all parties enjoyed.  Vendors efficiently tied up fish, meat, or vegetables for carry away with salt-water grass strings. No bags.  Unfortunately this no cost and eco-friendly practice had vanished from the world.  Between tenement buildings was pedestrian open space for activities such as laying out food items to dry, traveling performances, peddling goods, children running amuck, and in most evenings, residents relaxing. 

My two older brothers slept in the half unit on the 5th floor in another building, where despite being only 120 square feet, the unit was 2 separate dwellings by a dividing wall. An adult lady, who worked as a maid for foreigners, occupied the other half. When she was gone, she had temporarily sublet her side.  Once, it was to a man, who piled mounds of quail size chocolate Easter eggs against the dividing wall, such that the presence of a hole tempted us children to dig through it.  Chocolate was a rare treat.  The lady had taken me to see American movies, because a child could share a seat without paying.  I saw many western sagas, including Clint Eastwood's.  I loved the gunfights and horses without any need to know the plots. 

My father made use of his street level 120 square feet as our home and metal workshop.  He built a ceiling loft, accessed by steps from the shop, where my mother and I slept.  At night after the shop tidied up, my father slept in a portable canvas cot.  

Our shop first produced painted silver hooks that anchored Venetian blind strings.  My father self-taught tool die and mode casting for chopping sheet metal into hook shape.  We had other mechanical machines to bend pieces and drill holes.  Somehow electricity was connected.  It was dirty hard work.  My oldest brother started working full time along with my parents; he barely finished elementary school.  Child labor was common.  My father’s business took off when his sturdy metal knitting stands became known to new textile factories.  A metal “business card” was secured onto every stand, like an artist’s signature, to facilitate new orders.  Men in suits had visited our little shop for orders of over 100 stands.  Everyone worked; I held metal beams while my brother drilled. My mother and other brother painted the frames in oil based battleship gray.  When necessary, we hired neighbors to get the orders done. 

Privacy was unusual.  One neighbor on our street level managed to never socialize with anyone. She was a “Susie Wong.” Her little girl was always home alone with the door closed.  The shop to our right was 余九記; this metal workshop had several live-in hired men.  Once they stole my brother’s dog and cooked it.  My brother cursed them into the night.  The shop to our left was a man who sold aquarium fish.  He had basins and buckets spread out beyond his shop everyday to entice passersby.  Clusters of tiny red worms in plastic water filled bags were a hot sell.  The first shop at the corner was a cheong-saam tailor. His wife was always pregnant; they had 5,6, or 7 kids. Their very old grandma still helped out, and could thread through a needle at night under minimal light without eyeglasses.  I remember one of their children was my friend, but suddenly she was gone.  Sometimes I got a dime to go across for snacks from 潘齒香 .  Across too was my favorite shop 黃興記, a stationery store that also made ritual products for burning to the underworld.  Colored tissues covering bamboo stick frames made into cars, and mansions with furniture (much like a doll's house).  I had two friends my age that lived on the second floor (aka US first floor).  They started working in factories at age 14.  Everyone loved playing mahjong. My friends and I learned how to play before attending kindergarten.  My other friend lived across, next to the snack shop. She married at 15 to get away from her stepmother, who was in fact a quiet and kind woman, and who occasionally got beaten by her father.  Somehow we lived thriving lives with almost nothing left to lose.  Thanks to Stephen Chow’s movie “Kung Fu Hustle,” for bringing the old neighborhood back to life. 

2023 

Like sandcastles on the beach, wiped out by the tides, all of the above was gone without a hint left.  I located our tenement based on 中聖學校 a nearby elementary school. The Han Tomb 李鄭屋古墓 entrance with two stone lions, where I used to hang out wondering what was inside, had been completely remodeled since my prior visits.  Unfortunately the grander newer look only made this ancient tomb look anonymous and bland. To replace 7-story with 27-story housing was justifiable, but not all renovation for the sake of renovation was good. 

On this visit I also ventured out to Kowloon Walled City 九龍寨城. This 6.5 acre (0.01 square mile) of housing jungle that had housed 50,000 people was wiped out too. Dedicated to its memory was a beautiful and serene Han garden. 

Housing the Hong Kong growing population has historically been a primary worry. Land owners have little incentive to develop more residences to compete with their existing real estates. The government and people are on their knees needing more land to develop. Already residential highrises had blocked the horizon. My friend lives on the 32nd floor. 

Am I now a stranger in my motherland? I visited Macau, Wanchai, Aberdeen, Hong Kong Central, Sham Shui Po. I recognized the same never-say-die people focusing on making a living like my father did, and the same cut to the chase attitude that made them brilliant in survival. Beyond memories, the only connection I now hold on to was friends I met on this and prior times. Through them, I saw myself in a parallel universe, growing up with Hong Kong. 

SPECIAL THANKS to Winnie and 阿景, Candy, 阿忠 and Feddy, Winnie and Sam, Ivy and Ming, and Leo. 

IN MEMORIAM: 李俊國

TRANS CANADA 2023

PASSPORT  What may be the worst thing that could happen on an international trip, besides illness or injury?  During my Toronto Pearson Airport's connecting flight to Halifax, I forgot my US passport at the Canadian Customs and Border Control scanner!  Having exited that room, there was no going back.  No amount of pleading to Information, Air Canada, and Airport Police helped.  I could only complete a Lost Report on Pearson's Lost and Found website.  

Being already in Canada, my California Real ID was good for their domestic flights and trains.  I continued to Halifax.  According to US Consulate websites, Emergency Passport was by appointment only.  Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver were fully booked for over a month.  Scouring the internet, my 2 dozen calls got only useless recordings and endless music on hold.  Canadian public employees on strike was the excuse.  Dead ends everywhere.  What else to do?  I prayed for a Miracle.  Just then, at 2am, the "Emergency Abroad" phone number caught my attention.  

Miracle began:  At that wee hour of the morning, someone answered!  The sympathetic agent advised me to send an email to American Citizen Services.  I emailed the one in Toronto.  An auto rejection email came quickly. Amazingly the fine prints explained that other proof of citizenship could be used for border crossing by land, and explained how to word the Subject Line for urgent cases.   I re-worded my email and made a backup Amtrak reservation.  Instant relief, Hallelujah!  Next morning I awoke rested and happy.

Amtrak out of Canada was good enough, but my Miracle continued.  Toronto's US Consulate emailed me an appointment on the exact date I requested.  On the day, the process only took minutes.  An officer accepted my documents, told me to return at 2pm.  I got my Emergency Passport.  Thanks to the US Consulate.  Praise God.

HALIFAX  Express Bus 320 from the airport to downtown stopped right across The Barrington Hotel.  Walking around to a ferry crossing, I rode to Dartmouth, and then rode right back, as there wasn’t much to see.  Downtown was pleasant, but beyond 6pm, even on a Friday night, shops on the streets and in the Scotia Square mall were mostly closed.  At 45° F the Waterfront was deserted.  Fortunately the Bluenose II restaurant, a down slope block from the hotel, was warm and homey for dinner. 

The Maritime Museum was an eye opener.  There were two major events on this eastern coast:  In 1917, French SS Mont-Blanc carrying WWI high explosive was T-boned by Norwegian SS Imo carrying relief cargo.  Mont-Blanc then veered into the Halifax Harbor, wiping out 1.6 mile radius of people and structures in an instant.  Five years earlier in 1912, Halifax dropped 119 Titanic victims back into the sea when embalming supplies ran out. They buried 150.

The Titanic tragedy displayed raw human flaws:  1) VANITY:  White Star Line decided on only 20 lifeboats, which could only accommodate 1178 of 2,240 (if full 3,320) passengers.  The idiot captain skipped the emergency drill.  Therefore chaos, including losing two boats, 472 seats were unused.  Trusting that the Titanic was “unsinkable,” 1st and 2nd class gentlemen played up the decorum of ladies and children first.  This blindness was hailed as gallantry, especially by White Star Line, to deflect their faults and to deter lawsuits.  2) CLASSISM:  While the first boat only had 5 1st class passengers (3 men, 2 women) and 7 crew members, the 3rd class steerage was always locked to prevent passengers from “spreading diseases” to upper levels, but in this tragedy, from escaping sooner.  Not giving up the chance to survive was not cowardice.  57 1st class men were saved, while 146 3rd class women and children died. The difference was that 1st class had a choice to leave sooner.  3) RACISM:  Were there Asians on the Titanic?  6 of 8 Chinamen on board in 3rd class and the only Japanese man on board in 2nd class survived. In the era of Chinese Exclusion, aside from immediate suspicion and ridicule of these 7 paid passengers, their survival feat was not deemed worthy of Titanic history, not until Director Arthur Jones’ 2020 documentary, "The Six" (watch here). The Japanese man, upon returning to Japan, got fired from his government job and ostracized by his people for not dying.  They blamed him for not abiding by the white gentleman’s way of women and children first.  Men first was the norm in 1912 Meiji Japan.  4) JUDGMENT DAY:  Was a mother or a daughter more worthy than a father or a son?  Was a child with a longer future more worthy than an elder with life experience?  Staring at imminent death or life, who played God to decide anyone's fate?  1st class first? WTF!

TRAINS  Riding on slow old trains clinking and clanking, jerking and tossing for miles and miles was oddly therapeutic to me.  Why not go faster by plane, faster by car, cheaper by bus?  Train passengers are a strange lot.  I revered old rail tracks too, for they were laid with blood and guts.  I had to go before they were gone.

Canada's VIA "The Ocean" was 22 hours from Halifax to Montreal.  Coach was spacious and comfortable, until a big burly guy sat next to me for several hours with his elbow halfway into my space.  My other complaint was the ceiling lights were lit all night; I lowered my hoodie and wore sunglasses. "The Corridor" was only 5 hours from Montreal to Toronto.  Montreal VIA station had good food stalls. I especially liked the beautiful French pastries.  The highlight of the VIA was “The Canadian,” 4 nights from Toronto to Vancouver.  “Sleeper Plus” lower berth included a big window turned out to be the best choice.   On the first night, the attendant made up the bunks after dinner. She was supposed to transform the bunks back into 2 facing couches each morning, but everyone preferred the bunks left as beds through all 4 nights.  Once the drapery was drawn, my cubbyhole with changing window view was a private oasis.  Car 113 had 3 sets of upper/lower bunks for a total of 6 passengers.  The car had a drinking water dispenser, and separate boy's and girl's toilet rooms.  A farther shower room was shared with other cars.  Electric outlets for charging were inside the toilet rooms.  Both upper/lower bunk passengers could stow luggage and shoes, with a 9 inch height limit, on the floor under the lower bunk.  Sleepers included meals.  My choice was eggs, hash brown, bacon, toast, coffee and juice every morning.  Filet mignon, pork tenderloin, prime rib, and rack of lamb were my 4 dinner entrees.  Ontario was still a snow and ice winter wonderland in April.  Manitoba was flat and golden like the old west.  Saskatchewan was flat too, but greener.  Alberta and British Columbia were the showstoppers with majestic and tranquil rocky mountains, waterfalls, lakes, vegetation, animals, and birds.  At the bunks and during meals, fellow passengers naturally developed rapport.  Pia, a girl from Germany, got off at Saskatoon to volunteer at a farm.  Simon, a boy from Switzerland, my upper bunk mate, will drive around Canada for 3 more weeks after Vancouver. I met Libretta, who studied Theology and Siyeon, who was deciding career and boyfriend, both from Korea but were students in Toronto, and Kuniko, a girl from Japan.  Emil, a small child, who knew a lot about trains, was traveling with his Hong Kong Chinese mother and Montreal French father.  As meal tables were unassigned, I sat with different people and exchanged usual introductions each time. 

MONTREAL TORONTO VANCOUVER  Landscape and climate may vary at different latitudes, but most metropolises in the developed world are similar now.  Familiar franchises, recognizable transportation modes, universal social practices, each Canadian town felt like home to me in just 2 or 3 days.  I visited museums and must’ve seen every Monet and Picasso distributed all over the world.  A culture shock was the combination of 2 taxes on every bill that amounted to 11%.  Tag on a minimum of 15% tip, be prepared to pay a lot for a restaurant meal.  I loved ethnic neighborhoods, but neither Montreal nor Vancouver's Little Italy could I find spaghetti and meatballs for lunch.  Besides pizza, real Italian restaurants were closed until 5pm.  I ventured further out to Vancouver’s Little India, which turned out to be a good hub of Indian shops, restaurants, and a market.  I had authentic Punjabi chicken masala.  It was delicious, but so spicy that I had to toss the leftover.  

A special thanks to Sammy (2018 trans-Siberian) for a whole rainy day of driving and hosting me from Toronto Chinatown to Markham’s Pacific Mall, to Vaughan Mills, to lunch at The Red Sichuan, and to meet his daughter Wendy’s lovely family.  Sammy is a kindred spirit in world exploration.

INCIDENT  I was on the SkyTrain heading back to downtown from Little India. It was an hour-long ride when I spotted a chubby white dude, about 30, with his pants down, baring and exposing his privates from waist down to his ankles.  For many stops, no one reacted.  Finally, I Skype called the transit police. Officers came on 2 stops later. The dude quickly pulled up his pants, but too late; officers saw him.  An officer copied my photo evidence.  The train was safe again.  Glad to help, Vancouver!