RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-1982 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mk61z420p Chinese University's History Department and editor of our 1981 Journal, spoke on Saikung district during World War II: the district being a regular escape route for prisoners of war from Kowloon. After a summer break we began again in October with Professor Shih Hsio-yen, Head of Department of Fine Arts at Hong Kong University, talking on recent Chinese archeological finds and how the Chinese on the mainland look at their origins. In December Dr. James Hayes led a tour of the New Territories, which included Sam Tung Uk village built in the eighteenth century and scheduled as a museum and cultural centre, and Tsuen Wan, with a vegetarian lunch at the Yuen Yuen Hok Yuen, Tsuen Wan, a temple complex belonging to a Chinese syncretic religious group. Also in December, Professor Rulan Chao Pian, Professor of East Asian Languages and Civilizations and of Music at Harvard, and currently visiting Professor of Music at the Chinese University, spoke on traditional forms of dance narrative in North China. Her talk was illustrated with video tape material. Finally, in January Dr. Graham Johnson, Associate Professor in Sociology at the University of British Columbia, talked on the Chinese in Canada, discussing their history from the early rural migrants who worked in the goldfields and on the railway, to the more sophisticated urban migrants going to Canada after 1967, many from Hong Kong. There was very poor response to the two overseas tours offered through, or by, the Society during the year. The tour to India had to be cancelled through lack of sufficient numbers, and the tour of the Pearl River Delta consisted of six persons only, including the leader, Dr. Michael Lau, to whom I express my thanks. This year about seven members will be joining a tour arranged by Dr. Brian Shaw for late March-early April. The group will witness the annual sacred masked dance festival at Paro in Bhutan and also visit other places in Bhutan, and Darjeeling and Kalimpong. Other tours may be arranged by Dr. Shaw during the coming year, and Mrs. Craig will also be offering tours to members, who will be kept informed. As the year progressed we found it increasingly difficult to obtain bookings at the Volunteer Officers' Mess due to heavy ix ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 191 Closer to the ground The call came, loud and clear, and 30 minutes later we were off, bound for the BAe 146 aircraft, a reassuring piece of British engineering, and the flight to Paro. Some Bangkok to Paro flights route via Dhaka in Bangladesh, but most call in at Calcutta. When, during my less-than-extensive research, I had seen ‘Kolkata' on the itinerary I presumed it was somewhere in Bhutan. But like Mumbai and Yangon, Kolkata is modern-speak for an old familiar name. I wonder if it will catch on? The leg from Calcutta (obviously didn't catch on with me) to Paro was just over an hour—long enough to serve a boxed meal and deliver a warning to all passengers. The pilot came on the overhead speakers to tell us that the approach to Paro is quite unusual. 'Do not worry if you appear to be closer to the ground than normal. This is quite standard.' I thought to myself: 'This chap doesn't realise that he is dealing with 27 people who have done many landings at Kai Tak.' But, loyal as I am to all things Hong Kong, I have to say that the approach to Paro is a bit more hairy than Kai Tak used to be. It is rather like flying into Happy Valley as far as the foot of Blue Pool Road, doing a u-turn, and then landing on Queen's Road East using a runway about one-quarter as wide as Kai Tak's was. On the walk across the tarmac to the terminal building I was able to talk to the pilot and congratulate him on such a challenging landing. He told me that he had been with his country's national carrier, Druk Air, for thirteen years, always flying 146s. In fact he started on them after only 250 hours experience. 250 hours! Even I have 350 hours of flying experience—but I am very happy to leave such interesting landings to him, full load of passengers and fuel and all. A pleasant surprise The temperature on arrival was a pleasant surprise. On the plane, the pilot had initially reported -5°C, and then -2°C and just before landing +5°C. Obviously things warm up pretty quickly when the sun comes out. And it was certainly out when we arrived—clear blue skies and what felt like 15-20°C, although noticeably cooler in the shade. ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 204 last leg of the day's journey, to Bumthang. We were now passing into Central Bhutan. The country gets more remote and primitive the further east one goes. The road by now resembled a quarry, thanks to the ambitious road-widening project that has been under way since late 2000. Until then, road vehicles were required to cross into Indian Assam in order to get to the east of Bhutan. This route became less favoured when some Indian militants shot a Bhutanese bus driver in order to prove a point. (Brian did not mention that in the briefing notes!) To compensate for the road, the trees had become particularly impressive. We were now driving through gigantic pine trees, just like in the Hundred Acre Wood. I could easily imagine Pooh Bear falling out of one, had he been there. About half-an-hour short of Jakar, the capital of Bumthang province, two or three woollen goods shops formed the nucleus of a knitting and weaving industry, so of course we had to stop and boost the local economy. I saw a scarf I particularly liked. The young lady in the shop told me it was 300 ngultrum (about HK$50), I have never really learned the art of bargaining, and so I offered her 250 and a large hopeful smile. She smiled back, but the smile quickly faded. 'Excuse me' she said, 'there's 50 missing.' I was so flustered that I tried to pretend that it was all my fault and I quickly gave her the missing note. I hung around a bit to listen to how the hardened shoppers managed to bring the price down, but I had to bow out in the face of such expertise and experience. We reached the hotel at dusk and found it to be rather like a ski lodge - fresh and inviting on the outside and warm and toasty on the inside, with pine-clad walls. Welcoming tea and bickies were laid out in the communal sitting area of the dining room. The bedroom was also toasty, almost a sauna. The source of the heat was a wood-burning stove. This gave off a terrific amount of heat, but burnt through its contents very quickly. When I returned to the bedroom after dinner it was like stepping into a fridge, so quickly had the heat disappeared. As the electricity supply was rather intermittent, each room was provided with a candle. ‘Ah-ha' I thought, ‘salvation.' I lit the candle and held it against a thinnish piece of pine for no less than fifteen shivering minutes, but the blighter wouldn't light. So I had to climb into bed, wondering about such news headlines as: ‘Careless cigarette Page 205 Page 255 Page 256 ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 205 end burns down multi-storey building. How? Please tell me how, when I had been trying hard with a naked flame to set light to a piece of wood? I was not in bed for long. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of the floor, heart a-pounding. About a foot above my head, on the wall, was a "thing" with black legs about two inches long - and it was moving! As I did not have my wife with me I had no alternative but to try and deal with it myself. Rustling up all the courage I could muster, I approached it step by step. I was happy to see that it had not moved any further. Perhaps it was also frightened of me. In fact, it could not have moved at all. In fact, it was three electric wires poking out of the wall - the site of a future reading light. The “movement” was caused by the flicker of the candle. Feeling rather like St. George having at least tried to slay the dragon but rather glad that nobody had been there to witness his attempt, I once more got back into bed. Bacon hallucinations The following day started with a welcome lie-in - breakfast at 7:30 a.m. This was a buffet of porridge, congee, hard-boiled eggs, toast, honey and coffee. I had to attribute the strong smell of sizzling bacon to the hallucinations I had suffered the previous night. The first stop was the nearby Jampey Lhakhang, a temple dating from its first construction in 659, making it one of Bhutan's oldest, although some additions are as recent as the last century. The sun had risen and, yet very cold, the day was warming up. But there was still frost on the ground reflecting in perfect outline the intricate silhouette of the building as the sun cast its shadow. The photographers amongst us were surprised to find, on Day 5 in Bhutan, the first indication of somebody who was unwilling to be photographed. This old gentleman, on his way to his morning devotions, turned out to be the only reluctant subject on the entire trip. Perhaps he himself was a tourist, or maybe he had missed the briefing from the Bhutan Tourist Authority. Having inspected the temple complex inside and out, we were distracted by loud and continuous shouting coming from a little way below us. A riot? Amongst these charming and friendly people? Or another invasion by the Tibetans, those charming and friendly people ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2001 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/zg651950g 211 authority to this day. We could only enter on certain conditions: no hat (okay, we had become used to that), no cameras (ho hum), and no scarf! What?? I had become extremely attached to my white yak-wool scarf and to leave it in the 'bus was quite a wrench. Inside, the Dzong was suitably large and impressive, but a bit cold without a scarf. Lunch was again provided by the catering crew who had gone ahead of us to Chendebji Chorten, the same site we had used on our way east. One was becoming somewhat blasé with all this looking after in such stunning settings. The village of Gangtey Gompa in the Phubjikha Valley was where we were supposed to see the cranes. We did see some, but only at a great distance, apart from a squadron that flew in formation close overhead, practicing for the ceremonial re-entry to Tibet. The village was interesting for having an over-sized dzong in its midst that was being extensively renovated. Electricity is forbidden in this valley as it might upset the visiting cranes, so all work has to be done by hand and in daylight. A dog's life Not prone to doing things by daylight were the dogs. Throughout Bhutan it was remarkable that the dogs were extraordinarily docile. I could not imagine entering the average New Territories village and emerging with my four limbs intact. But in Bhutan a large group of strangers comes in from Mars, as it were, and the dogs just look, disdainfully, and resume their slumber. And then somebody pointed out the obvious: they are up all night yapping their silly heads off and are therefore exhausted by daybreak. But why do they do that? My theory is that they are trapped in a vicious cycle with no way out; they go to sleep in gentle morning sunshine but when they awake the sun has gone. All night, they are in a state of panic. Where has the sun gone? When at last it returns, even if in the opposite side of the sky, they can once more go to sleep and dream happily. I might be wrong in this analysis, however. On leaving the village, I saw a sign that made me wonder if I had missed one of the attractions. Attached proudly to a post was a sign that read, 'AIDS IS DANGEROUS. AVOID MULTIPLE SEX ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 Peter Stuckey and Chris Bailey - Visiting St. John's Island Dan Waters - Projects and enquiries ........ 435 449 Dan Waters - Yet more thoughts on Han Suyin's A Many Splendoured Thing: Conduit Road and its environs 453 John Wilson - A poem from the HKBRAS visit to East Bhutan, February 2003...... BOOK REVIEWS 459 Peter Halliday - Voices from the past: Hong Kong, 1842-1918 (Solomon Bard) 467 Peter Halliday - The development of education in Hong Kong, 1841-1897 (Gillian Bickley) 468 Patrick Hase - The fall of Hong Kong: Britain, China and the Japanese Occupation (Philip Snow) 472 James Hayes - From rice to riches: A personal journey through a changing China (Jane Hutcheon).... 474 XV ================================================================================ RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊 | RAS-2002 https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278 A POEM FROM THE HKBRAS VISIT TO EAST BHUTAN, FEBRUARY 2003 JOHN WILSON HKBRAS TOUR TO EASTERN BHUTAN This is the tale of the RAS tour to Eastern Bhutan in two thousand and four. There's something not right there - now what can it be? Oh yes, the year was in fact 2-0-0-3. The tour was the brainchild of Doc Brian Shaw, who'd been to East Bhutan and wanted some more of its gompas and chortens and drubdas and dzongs; to spend a few days well away from the throngs of Chinese New Year in polluted Hong Kong. If you'd know more about it, come list to my song. Let us turn first to Felicity Shaw, who said she 'assisted' but then did much more. Those in her 'bus never felt spirits sag, and often they heard the cry - 'Where's my red bag?' 459 Page 525 Page 526 ================================================================================