Veni, Vedi, Verdi

The last act of my trip to Gondwanaland ended with a 2 day tour of Australia's first colony, Sydney. I was very curious about Sydney because throughout my trip around the eastern seaboard, other Aussie's have told me that Sydney is like New York City (doubtful, but I held my tongue). Sydney also holds another special place in my heart because it is city that my dad promised to take my mom on their belated honeymoon when they finally leave communist China and have the ability to travel freely. Hindsight tells them that they would have probably made it to Sydney sooner if they'd stayed in China and have more spending power but then I would be blogging this in Chinese and where will that leave you, my one devoted reader.

Their story is actually quite cute and slightly sad. My father was preparing to take the entrance exam for the first wave of graduate students that China was going to send to the U.S. as a result of Premier Deng Xiaping's commitment to openness following President Nixon's historic visit. Needless to say, millions of highly qualified students were all vying for a handful of spots and if you thought we Chinese-American kids are good in math, you haven't met our Chinese-Chinese counterparts.

My dad was significantly disadvantaged because unlike his peers, he did not attend high school or college due to the cultural revolution. Everything he knew, he learned on his own, in the few hours the kerosene lamp still burned after a full day of manual labor in the fields. My dad realized at the last minute that there was one subject tested that he didn't study for so my parents planned their wedding right before the exam because the state gives every newlywed 2 weeks for their wedding and honeymoon (who said those Commie's weren't romantics?). My parents got married in city hall and hightailed it out to the countryside so my dad can cram for the exam in hiding. The government would not have looked kindly upon using state given wedding time to study for the exam. Although clearly, they weren't too keen on newlyweds making babies during that time either.

While my dad was cranking out diffy-q's (actually I'm quite sure his level of math at that time was much higher than Calculus III), my mom watched TV and saw a documentary on the opening of the Sydney Opera House six years earlier (hey, those communist censors don't bleep themselves!). She was so smitten by the ethereal sails of the building and its presence against the backdrop of the city and the Harbor Bridge that my dad promised that if they make it to the U.S., he'd take her there for the honeymoon they've never had. 29 years later, they've yet to take that trip. I wanted them to meet me in Sydney but in the process of becoming an American citizen, the INS spelled my mom's name wrong on her passport so she can't travel until that is replaced. It's a little bit ironic that she left the shackles of Communist China to become prisoner of American stupidity and bureaucracy.

So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, adieu,
Connie