leave it to the chinese girl to do it.

what about lincoln memorial? absolutely moving. his eyes gaze into the eternal present moment. the view of white house from jefferson's feet is spectacular. the tourmobile narrator says, today's the president's birthday. so i let my voice glide across tidal basin as i wish him a happy birthday. having said all that i have to say my top fave d c monument is the one for vietnam war.

really. leave it to a chinese girl to do it.

just two triangular, walls of black marble joined along the upright edge. yet as i walk along the pebbled path that takes me from the lowest point towards the highest i realize i am going below ground and soaring into the sky both at once. suddenly i notice the polished black marble become a mirror. it reflects beautifully the essentials of this physical universe. sky. cloud. trees. grass. birds. men and women and children. i feel the cool drizzle gently tapping the back of neck. in that moment i realize i am within a memorial whose limit is the sky. amidst all this grandeur are the names of men and women who sacrificed their lives.

miss maya lin did not use marble in the roman way or greek way. through a simple vision she created with meticulous attention a place where i experience respect from my heart for all those who give up the ultimate that anyone can offer for something that is bigger than their individual selves. the reflections constantly shift. but the oneness that is the same in everyone and everything stay untouched and pure. standing at the corner i look up to the top of the walls. part of my gaze is irresistibly drawn toward the clear sky. it is no different from the sky in the black mirror. the selves of all those whose names are engraved are no different than mine. the sky above me and that coming through the black mirror are not separate. one sky.

i just don't see them.

an american friend in d c says, i know that dim sum place, i've been there, i don't like it. i say, did you have tofu flower? she says, no. i say, did you have waterchestnut cake? again, no. what about taro dumpling? no. my friend says, i don't see them, they were not there. i say, dear american friend, you can take my word the bank, they are there, you just don't know what they are. true. take tofu flower. all one can see on the dim sum cart are two aluminum vats, a pile of bowls and spoons. no label. why they don't provide any label for the sake of american friends? because they are sold out just from the chinese customers. at one point hwubby asks a waiter, do you know how many people line up every day? he says, too many.

at another point cindy, who finds out about this place, points to something on a cart that is passing by and asks stuart, the chinese guy who tells cindy about this place, what is that? stuart casts a quick glance and says, you can order whatever you want. so cindy does. a plate of two little tarts. by the way, i notice stuart kind of half covers his eyes with a hand. briefly. after having half of one cindy asks me, suk wah, what is this? i take a good look at it and decide to be honest. i say, it's not dim sum as i know it, they make this up for the americans. stuart says with a straight poker face, never saw this before. hwubby says to cindy, when stuart tells you to order whatever you want it's the code for you to say 'no, you order.' cindy chuckles. she has a good sense of humor.

on one hand i know what's in the aluminum vat and i know what waterchestnut cake looks like.  on another hand i come out of meditation often thinking i don't have any experiences when in fact i have plenty. i just don't see them. just as my american friend needs to go dim sum with someone who knows about it i have to meditate with the guidance of a great teacher. then i know i am having a great connection with my own self when i am sitting quietly with the sound and movement of the breath.

all that marble i cannot eat.

my first time ever in d c. a friend asks, what do you think? i say, do you want the chinese perspective? or some other? short pause. she says, okay, the chinese perspective. i say, all that marble i cannot eat. but i definitely will come back. d c has some of the best dim sum i have had in america. seriously. hwubby says, seriously. we want to take the person who has so generously and kindly given us accommodation to a meal. actually turns out we have the whole house to ourselves. anyway hwubby says to this person, can you find out a nice place to go dim sum or a good chinese restaurant. honestly i don't have any expectation. but i know something good is coming when our friend says, i have found a place to dim sum, my friend says it's as good as hong kong and we have to be there no later than ten thirty to line up. hwubby and i arrive a couple of minutes after. what do we see? already a line of about fifteen people outside this unassuming place in a small shopping center. by the time it opens at eleven the line is already round the corner.

however the proof is in the dim sum. tofu flower. texture is delicate as prime rose petals, smooth as boiled egg white, creamy as custard, light as cloud. our american friend takes one spoonful. her eyes pops wide. she says, i can't believe it, i have never tasted anything like this. such quality is only possible because it is fresh. tofu flower has no shelf life. it is only good for a few hours. then it begins to taste grainy. i could have downed several bowls if i didn't have to save room for others.

waterchestnut cake. all that jello texture comes from a natural ingredient. some sort of grass. it gels at room temperature. chinese don't need fridge to make jello:) waterchestnut is one of my fave summer veggie. refreshing taste, crunchy, cooling.

taro dumpling. again, my american friend says, i have never had anything so good. it looks like a small bird nest. take a bite into it. the taro threads are deep fried to perfection. light, airy. not oily whatsoever.

cuttlefish. thinly sliced. al dente. very tasty. but the real wonder is the bed of pickled turnip, cucumber underneath. they are perfectly balanced in sweet and sour. and, again, they are fresh.  there is a world of difference if it's stale pickle. they give me headache. literally immediately.

at one point, the american friend sitting next to me says, suk wah, when are you going to stop eating, aren't you full yet? i say, i will, at some point.

after such spectacular dim sum i head straight to national gallery to spend time with my fave pics. life in d c is divine.