Third Generation Legacy: Saudi Arabia 1972 (II)

 

Estelle Tsui Lau 劉立璀

 

 

Time was also spent on weekends and after school learning Chinese folk dances either at the embassy or in the front courtyard/driveway of the mansion.  A youth named Nou-Nou who had been raised in Saudi Arabia and whose father worked at the embassy was chosen to be my partner for the chopstick dance; he was in his early teens and extremely sweet and patient with me, inviting me out socially to go to his family home. In addition, I was assigned a solo dance about a young girl who is carried  by an old grandfather. The dance was modified for me as the large dummy which consisted of the old man’s head and torso on the front and young girls legs on the back were too cumbersome for me.  Instead the dance became one of a young girl who carries a small lantern and handkerchief she drops on a road with imaginary puddles which the young girl must dance around to retrieve her handkerchief.  I loved the sky blue silk pants and top with bright red accents mirrored in the lantern and handkerchief!  We performed these dances for the embassy and also for parties that my grandparents hosted. 

 

Large red and black carpets would be unrolled in the front driveway area for our practices and performances to my grandparents’ guests: members of the diplomatic corps and extended Saudi royal family members. My first performance was for a large gathering of 50+ people.  While the public areas of the mansion were off limits to me during these parties and I was allowed only to watch the arrival of the parade of large black sedans from the roof of the house or listen from the staircase to the hum of voices and laughter of the guests, I recall my awe at the production that would take place during the week preceding these events. Large blocks of ice were brought into the side yard and stacked up in a small room covered in cloth waiting to be chipped for drinks the morning of the event and my grandmother furiously supervised the maids who cooked day and night -- the three refrigerators and ice room stacked with vegetables and meats were transformed in a maddening rush into an endless array of heavy Chinese appetizers, each wrapper for spring rolls painstakingly squeezed into a translucent sheet from the prepped dough that had been resting inside cold water under a layer of ice and the variety of dumplings laboriously rolled out by hand.

 

The floodlights hid the faces of the guests who stood loosely a few feet beyond the edges of the two or three large rugs which helped me overcome my nervousness coming out the front steps of the mansion and getting into place for the opening dance of the show.  My dance was short – at the most three or four minutes long.  And when I finished and was holding my final pose, I recall there was a brief silence as the loud music quieted followed by polite applause.  I felt a flash of worry that I had somehow flubbed the dance, when a loud voice called out from the crowd – “Encore, Encore!” and began to clap enthusiastically and loudly and the rest of the audience followed suit to applaud more robustly.  I was somewhat frozen in place, not certain what to do, and one of my grandparents responded in English that they were flattered by his appreciation for their granddaughter.  I started to go back into the house when the same voice called out again, “Encore!  I will give your granddaughter 100 camels if she will dance her dance again for us!”  Stepping out from the shadows to speak with my grandparents was, to my eyes filled with the glamor of the evening, a dashing Saudi Arabian gentleman in traditional flowing, white garb.  After a few moments, my grandmother called for me to go back to the “stage” and the music started for me to perform my small dance again.  It was not until sometime later that I would appreciate the evening because I found out during the following week that my grandparents had refused the gift of camels for my dance sparking yet another battle with my grandmother. I had childishly believed that I would be able to gift to my hometown zoo in California the camels and keep a few at our home and I was inconsolable for days from the disappointment.

 

 

Chopstick dance at the Chinese New Year party

 

In the final years of my grandfather’s life I would often ask him what had happened to one or another diplomat that had attended one of these events and was always surprised at my grandfather’s absolutely precise memory nearly four decades later.  One time, asking where the former US Ambassador during that period was, my grandfather scratched his head and apologized for having a very faulty memory and told me he would have to think about it.  The following afternoon my grandfather slipped a piece of paper into my hand which listed a name and a series of addresses and phone numbers – he stated, “I am so sorry this took so long but it took me a little time to be certain I was correct before I responded.”  Looking at the sheet I realized he had listed the postings – including each address, phone number and date of tenure-- of the former Ambassador following Saudi Arabia.  I asked my Grandfather where he looked up the information as I knew that he was not a big user of the internet, to which he responded, “Oh no, I just had to remember, but you know, I am older now so it took me awhile to recollect the information.”

 

Despite how busy my grandparents were, they organized activities to try to entertain me to help make me forget my homesickness – an outing to the sand dunes was memorable with large Bedouin tents pitched, a BBQ with meat roasting on spits and a bonfire where the older teens demonstrated the traditional dances with us younger ones dancing alongside. We would run up the dunes as tall as small hills to roll back down the soft warmth until my legs couldn’t go another step and I would flop backwards and tumble back down with the embassy children mimicking me and everyone ending up in a messy pile at the bottom.  My grandmother was often at the center of these gatherings organizing the women and staff in their cooking, starting various games or activities.  My grandfather, however would stand or sit quietly on the side always watching, smiling and sometimes speaking softly with one or another staff member, but not seeking the spotlight.  While he would not join in the festivities, he would often later ask me whether I enjoyed some activity or tidbit of food and had clearly been keeping an eye on everything I had done.

 

Another time, my grandparents borrowed the home of a friend out at Obhur Creek --  a salt water Red Sea inlet where the wealthy had “beach homes.”  My grandparents were, as usual, hosting a group of people and I took the opportunity to sneak out of the house and explore the surrounding area.  Surprisingly, the Saudi Arabian gentleman who had offered me the 100 camels happened to own the house next door and was visiting with his newly-wed third wife.  He invited me to go boating with him and his new wife and I quickly accepted pushing them to hurry outside before my absence was noted by my grandparents.  By the time my grandparents were informed of my plan, we were in the cigarette-style motorboat and pulling away from the dock.  I recall my grandparents running towards us as I waved and we gained speed.  I laughed watching my grandparents rush back to the house and jump in the car, racing along the waterfront in the Embassy vehicle as we sped further and more quickly away in the motorboat.  I realize that, somewhat unkindly, the thrill of the boat ride was increased knowing that it was sending my grandmother into hysterics.  We eventually pulled back to the dock and I lingered near my new “friends” knowing my grandparents wouldn’t reprimand me in front of them, though the car ride home was punctuated by my grandmother’s scolding and my grandfather’s quiet admonitions to her that there was no harm done and to let me be.  A few days later some large unusual shells from the creek and a beautiful lacquered jewelry box with a ruby necklace and expensive bottle of perfume were delivered to my grandfather to give to me as mementos of the day.  I was somewhat surprised that my grandfather actually allowed me the gifts after the scare I had given to them, but he simply handed me the packages after carefully looking at them, though my grandmother did take the opportunity to remonstrate again me for my continued disobedience.  Nevertheless, I did feel a bit guilty recalling my grandfather’s ashen color when I emerged from the boat and his wordless disapproval.

I counted the days till I could meet up again with my family in August 1973 for my Uncle Austin's wedding in Holland.  My grandfather did not wish to travel to the Netherlands which had severed diplomatic relations with ROC,  but my grandmother opted to go. We travelled through Jordan and Greece to meet my mother and sister in Rome and on to Amsterdam.

 

1972-73 was an unbearably long year for me, but even as an eight-year old, I had gained immense respect for my grandfather's low-key yet astute management style at home and in the embassy. Throughout that difficult year he never raised his voice at me no matter what I did to express my dismay at being so far from home or anyone else that I can recall. And despite his natural reserve, I would see him from the corner of my eye  watching me with pride when I practiced my dancing or recited some Chinese story for my grandmother.  His slight smile and awkward attempts to pat my back or return my infrequent hugs when I would bound into his large office at the embassy after classes, waving off my grandmother or his staff for a moment until he would tell me “ok, ok, you’ve said hello.”   Since then, I have felt a great deal of affection for my grandfather and an appreciation for his intelligent, no drama conduct.

 

When he was already in his late 80’s and in a nursing home for a period following an illness, I drove to Los Angeles from San Francisco to visit him, bringing him a signed copy of the book I had written and some warm slippers.  He once again allowed me to hug him and smiling said “Ok, ok, we’ve said hello” reminding me of that year in the desert.  As we sat together, he turned to me and said that he wanted to tell me what he had learned as he had grown older and to beg my apology for perhaps not being as good a grandfather as he would have liked.  He told me that Chinese people place too high a value on the form of things and he felt that perhaps he had worried too much about how things looked to others rather than to express what he had been thinking.  He hoped that keeping the peace “that year I had visited” hadn’t hurt me too much and that I had gained something despite how unhappy he knew I had been.  He said his only regret in his life was that he always had tried to do the right thing rather than put happiness first.  As I’ve thought about my grandfather’s legacy to his colleagues, his country and his family I hope that he did not sacrifice his own happiness to do the right thing for all of us around him. As I struggle sometimes with the balance of doing what is expected instead of what I believe would make me happiest, I often wonder what my grandfather would advise me and wish I could ask him now and hear his thoughtful, analytical response and whether my choices would meet with his approval.

 

Dancing with Grandfather at Sterling Vineyards in Napa, California, 1994

 

 

Video:

On his returning to Taiwan in preparation for the coming visit of King Faisal on 1971/05/17, Ambassador Tien, 56 years of age then, was interviewed by TTV news(1971/05/11). 

   (田寶岱大使(駐沙烏地阿拉伯)返國及訪問

https://www.ttv.com.tw/news/tdcm/viewnews.asp?news=0062335

 (田寶岱大使、沙烏地阿拉伯與臺灣十大建設)

Slide Show:https://www.osparks.com/player/2/13

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