Happy Chinese Valentines Day! Well, tomorrow, August 16, according to the lunar calendar and Chinese tradition is Chinese Valentine’s Day.

I mentioned I have two wedding anniversaries – one for the civil ceremony and one for the reception. My memory was betraying me, as it often does. There is a third wedding anniversary for me and Mrs. Stevo: Qi Xi – Chinese Valentines Day.

We were married on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, aka 7-7, aka Chinese Valentines Day (one of three, I believe), aka The Night of Sevens. It wasn’t planned. Our marriage was supposed to take place two or three days earlier, but I went to the wrong station, missed my train, and did not end up meeting the future Mrs. Stevo at the appointed time. We met, in her province, a few days later.

On the way to the station that fateful day in 2006, Mrs. Stevo mentioned it was 7-7. My knowledge of the lunar calendar was, and still is, limited. Lunar means moon, doesn’t it?  My understanding of this time system is that it wreaks havoc with holidays: Each year they are on a different day.

“It’s Chinese Valentines Day?” I asked.

“Yes, 7-7,” replied my almost-bride.

Some romantic chord resounded deep within me . We had to be married that day, The Fates were smiling blessings upon us. It was fortuitous; it was good luck, utter serendipity. I jogged through the station, Mrs. Stevo trailing in my determined wake. In the pitfalls that followed, a late train, less-than-knowledgably taxi drivers, and the summer heat that threatened to melt an unconditioned North American, I kept my eye on that prize. To be married on 7-7…

At the registry office, we said our vows, waited for the notarized “pink” wedding books, and then set off in search of a reasonable priced hotel.

“What is 7-7?” you wonder. What is Chinese Valentines Day? I’m glad you asked. Allow me to share…

Please note: There are many variations of this tale. I have combined some elements to make it comprehensible.

Once upon a time, there was a cowherder, named Nuilang (translated: Cowherder). He was a handsome orphaned lad that worked hard as a farmer. One day he spotted seven fairy sisters skinny-dipping in a lake. On the urgings of his mischievous ox, he stole their clothes and sat back to watch the show that would inevitably follow. The sisters selected the youngest and most beautiful among them, the seventh sister, Zhinu (translated: weaver girl), to retrieve their fairy garments.

Aside: The ox was an immortal from heaven, sent to earth in the form of an ox as punishment for his misdeeds in the heavenly realm.

Zhinu retrieved the clothing for her siblings and had Nuilang agree to marry her, as he has seen her unclothed.* The couple got along well, him a dutiful husband, and she a wonderful wife. They fell very much in love and had two children.

Zhinu’s mother, the Empress of Heaven, heard her daughter, the weaver of colorful clouds, had married a mortal. She was furious, as mothers sometimes are about what they perceive to be bad marriages.

She snatched Zhinu from earth and placed her back the heavens to resume her weaving. Niulang packed the kids in wicker baskets, and using the magically hide of his now dead, and formerly god-like ox, and gave chase. The Empress, using her hairpin, tore a river across the night sky (the milky way), separating the lovers forever.

Zhinu lives on the star Vega, and Nuilang on the other side of the night sky, lives on Altair, flanked by their children on the stars β and γ Aquilae.

In time, the Empress of Heaven was touched by their great love and took pity upon the couple. Once a year, the seventh night of the seventh month, she allowed all the world’s magpies to fly into the heavens. They formed a bridge over the river and allowed the lovers to reunite.

Qi Xi is also called The Festival to Plead for Skills (qǐ qiǎo jié), The Seventh Sister’s Birthday (qī jiě dàn), and The Night of Skills (qiǎo xī).

The Night of Sevens, Chinese Valentines Day, is celebrated by:

On Qi Xi, a festoon is placed in the yard and the single or newly married women in the household make an offering to Niulang and Zhinü consisting of fruit, flowers, tea, and facial powder (makeup). After finishing the offering, half of the facial powder is thrown on the roof and the other half divided among the young women. It is believed by doing this the women are bound in beauty with Zhinü.

Another tradition is for young girls to throw a sewing needle into a bowl full of water on the night of Qi Xi, Chinese Valentines Day, as a test of embroidery skills. If the needle floats on top of the water instead of sinking, it is believed to be an indication of the girl’s being a skilled embroideress.
Source: answers.com

Today, Chinese Valentines Day is one of matchmaking by parents and at speed dating parties. Astronomically, on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month the milky way appears dimmer, supporting the idea of a bridge between the two stars.

Happy Qi Xi, Mrs. Stevo, happy anniversary (again).

* Mrs. Stevo tells me in traditional China that if a boy saw a girl’s naked feet (Mrs. Stevo’s term) they had to wed. I asked if desperate girls attempted this as a way of coercing men into marriage. She would not dignify my question with an answer.

What, you were expecting baby pictures?

There will be lots of those – as soon as Baby Stevo learns to stay awake for more 10 minutes at a stretch, and can keep her beautiful blue eyes open.

My month of traveling is almost up – I look forward to being home-bound for a month or so.

What can I say about Shanghai?

• It’s hot.
• The staff at the restaurant we are frequenting are loud, rude, and slow.
• There may be some sort of ghost in my hotel room – I’m having dreams that can only be described as “freaky.”
• Did I mention it’s hot?

The above photo was taken of a beautiful Asian model at the Interphoto Shanghai show. I’ll keep shooting or another 2.5 days.

Mrs. Stevo and Baby Stevo a week later.

It happened like this:

Monday, June 7: We went to the hospital. Knowing someone that knew someone, as well as a giant basket of fruit to bribe the floor nurses, secured Mrs. Stevo a nice room and attentive care. After checking in and meeting with the doctor it was off to the labour room. A bag of IV fluid, labour-inducing medication, and five hours later, Baby Stevo had yet to arrive. Baby Stevo was stubborn. Back to the room and a night sleep for Mrs. Stevo – back home for moi.

Tuesday, June 8: Back to the labour room. Unlike the day before, the medication kindled a fire. Just after lunch a stronger medication was introduced. Mrs. Stevo’s contractions went from winces to bed-sheet clawing near-convulsions. Our temp Nanny arrived, a sentinel over Mrs. and yet-to-be born Baby Stevo. By early evening Mrs. Stevo was in agony. No epidural until she was dilated enough, said the doctor. “I’m going to die,” she said, again and again. Because things were progressing slowly she was moved back to her room. The baby would come tomorrow, they said. I returned home, to be called when Mrs. Stevo returned  to the labor room.

Wednesday June 9: 1 am – The nanny said “Guo Lai!” when I picked up the phone. I dressed, found a taxi and headed back to the hospital. Mrs. Stevo was in the labour room again, pale, sweaty, and grimly facing her fate. No epidural yet. “I’m going to die” was her mantra. A doctor appeared and I was ushered out. When I returned Mrs. Stevo was roses and rainbows – an IV line snaked from under the sheets to a stand above the bed. She was able to get some sleep, as did I, outside the mosquito net, eaten alive. Three other women arrived in the labour room, they were quickly taken into the delivery room. Baby Stevo was still stubborn. By 5 am the doctor suggested Mrs. Stevo drink Red Bull and eat chocolate. They took her away and the orderly showed me the door. Husbands don’t routinely go into the delivery room in China.

I anxiously sat until an entire extended family arrived to wait. Quiet is not ever a word I would use to describe China. I roamed the corridors, coming back every 10 minutes to see if a nurse had appeared. Tired of walking I stood by the waiting room window and listened to my iPod (with noise excluding headphones) to drown out the unquiet family.

The door to the labour room had been dead-bolted – I had tried to get back in earlier. As I took a break from my musical escape I heard the bolt scrape open. A doctor emerged. All I caught of her statement was “… nu hai.” A  girl. What I wanted. I was excited, but exhausted. No where near as exhausted as Mrs. Stevo must have been. After another hour I was allowed in to visit.

Mrs. Stevo was radiant and angelic, like a renaissance painting. A bundle of blankets was held in the crook of her arm. Babies aren’t bathed their first day in China. Even with a mucky head, Baby Stevo was beautiful. The nanny fawned over them both. I sat a spell and returned home.

I returned mid-afternoon, after sleeping and packing. Baby Stevo and Mrs. Stevo were back in their room. I held my daughter for the first time and walked about the room with her in my arms. It was a brief first meeting – I was headed for Beijing. It would be a week before we spent more time together. (In Beijing I did not get to take any Great Wall Tours – for the second year in a row. One day Great Wall, I will climb you).

Welcome Baby Stevo.

Worshippers at the Longshan Temple in Taipei, Taiwan.

I spent a few days in Taiwan, more business than pleasure. I managed to get in a little Taiwan travel and met long-time amigos Carrie from My Several Worlds and Craig, majordomo of Craig Ferguson Images.

Carrie, for those of you that read her amazing blog (and you should), is as you would imagine. In a word: Wonderful. The most surprising thing about Craig was his shock of hair – as red as the fires of hell (thank you Simpson’s writers from that great simile). It was fun to finally meet two people who I greatly admire and who inspire me.

I had one free morning and was able to wander the city. I did what I like to do most: Visit temples.

In the space of two hours I visited four temples. The Longshan Temple in Taipei was the tastiest. There was a service in progress – men and women chanting in a place of worship built in 1738.  I stood and soaked up the sights and sounds – then back to my room. Next time I may spend more time looking at Taiwan Hotels before booking.

I hope to get back to Taiwan – it was too short a trip and there is so much to see and do.

Dubai

I spent almost a week in Dubai, business hub and home of the world’s largest white elephant building. What can I say about Dubai? It’s hot. It’s surrounded by desert (except for the ocean side), and, the expats outnumber the locals seven to one.

You don’t get to see a lot of a place when you’re working a trade show. The inside of your hotel room and exhibition hall become all too familiar – as does the taxi route between the two. I’m not complaining – I met a lot of great photographers and had some amazing conversations.

My last day in Dubai was free and was spent “seeing the sites.” I don’t have many photos as I grabbed one memory card before jetting away from Hong Kong. My bad.

A desert dune-busting safari in a 4×4, the world’s largest building, a nearly empty beach: Good times. The beach, virtually empty save a few expats was on par with any of the Best Beaches in Hong Kong I’ve seen. I saw the famous 7-star hotel – from the outside. We were not allowed in  – and were approached by security as we sought an alternate route.

I did eat a lot of Indian food. Growing up in suburban Canada didn’t offer many opportunities (actually, any) to consume Indian cuisine. Tasty stuff, I need to try more.

The trip did allow me to indulge in something I have not had in 5 years. Taco Bell. Yes, I went to Dubai and ate Taco Bell. I have fond memories of “running for the border” and it was nice to eat cheese fries again. Of course, I was terribly ill later, but that’s another story.

I did miss China. I missed Chinese food. Dubai was fun but I’m happy to be home.

I like to avoid Hong Kong hotels, so I only do day trips to Fragrant Harbour, the city’s name translated to English. Quite a few day trips in past couple of weeks, in fact. Hanging with the Hong Kong strobists, or at the very cool PASM Workshop, or working away at my HK office: There’s always something to do and photos to be made.

The Man Mo Temple in Sheung Wan, Hong Kong Island is a gem that I visit as often as I can. I stumbled across it when walking along Hollywood Road a few years back. It’s famous – being used in television and movies, as well as a popular religious facility for both police officer and gangsters. The ceiling of the temple is covered in coils of incense. Visitors are warned of the burning dangers over head. The temple is a dark and sweet-scented escape: Quiet in a hectic city.  If I’m at a loss as to what to do while on Hong Kong Island, I drop by.

Built in 1847, the temple is now owned by the Tung Wa Hospital Group. Tung Wa owns a few temples in Hong Kong – a strange acquisition. The temples prohibit photography, but the volume of tourists has made the posted signs a paper tiger. I once looking into getting a media pass – I think my China visa application was less complicated.

This photo was shot with a Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 lens on my now persnickety 40D.  I used AV mode set to f/1.4 at ISO 400. Canon’s 50mm lenses, the f/1.8 and f/1.4 are a bargain – quality images for those on a budget. I vow to use mine more. A vow of necessity actually – my walk-around lens, a 24-105 f/4L, is with the Canon doctors, being treated for an unknown ailment.

I once said I hate Hong Kong. My stance has softened since my early days. I still don’t like hotels in Hong Kong – way to expensive. Guest houses are a gamble. The major ones are unsavory: A mixed bag of backpackers, illegal immigrants, drug dealers, and prostitutes. I don’t have a problem with illegal immigrants, drug dealers or prostitutes.