In Memoriam

My grandfather passed away recently, and I only wish I could have shown him more appreciation and gratitude for laying the foundations of my life, and those of my family. 

Over fifty years ago, Granddad decided to make a monumental change that would affect the lives of his wife and five children. He left his family temporarily in Hong Kong and boarded a ship bound for Liverpool, and about a month later he arrived in what I know call my home country. With his brothers, they settled in Exeter in the South West, and started up a restaurant business despite barely knowing the language. He worked hard to make it a success, and eventually managed to bring across his family, including his second son, my father. The rest is (my) history.

I'll always remember the time Granddad told us about the first couple years with the restaurant. He would get some customers who would try and walk in, eat and walk out without paying. Maybe over time, the stories got a little exaggerated and there weren't any Kung Fu inspired, Jackie Chan-esque acrobatics. But I'd like to think there were, and I know he definitely showed them who was boss.

I'd be speaking Chinese if it weren't for him. This is for you, 公公. 


Man Uk Pin (萬屋邊), as the bastardised English name has it, means "Ten thousand houses on the border".  Sure, ten thousand is a bit of an exaggeration, but we Chinese like to add a bit of drama into the mix. I haven't quite gotten to the bottom of what the ten thousand houses refer to -  it most likely refers to the village homes, but I secretly wonder if it alludes to the graves that visibly dot the hillside, on the approach to the village.

 Village in the top left - where I currently live, is by the 'd' in Aberdeen..!

The border I presume refers to the location. On the map, it is at the uppermost point of Hong Kong, bordering the Mainland Chinese province of Shenzhen. Wholesale home of all those Forever 21 accessories, as well as a popular meeting point for dubious businessmen looking for some after-hours fun. 

This small village, a mini bus ride away from the town of Sheung Shui (上水 or 'Up Water) is where my father and his four siblings were born and spent their childhoods. It is entirely surrounded by greenery, and further along the horizon, the  mountains which split Hong Kong and China. Water runs down from these mountains into streams and man-made waterways that wind through the village.

I remember several occasions where Mum asked me to take a bucket and bring back some water. I found it so novel, it was always done obligingly.

Due to it's proximity to the Chinese border, there has historically been issues whereby migrants illegally cross over to Hong Kong in the dead of night.  On one occasion when I returned with my family, I was shocked to see acres of grassland had been burnt to the ground. I was told that this was on authority of the government who did not want illegal migrants hiding in these tall bushes and therefore ordered it so.  Lately it doesn't seem like they care too much, so I'm hoping it was a one-time impulse thing. 

The village began with four households with four different surnames, once of which was my own. Today, there are still four small shrines in Man Uk Pin, with the respective surname painted above the entrance.

The entrance to the 'Law' family shrine. The last character is 'Law'. You can just make out the small alter upon which food and wine is placed, in offering to both the Gods and the ancestors.

In recent times, Man Uk Pin (萬屋邊) has gradually gotten more and more caught between two worlds. On one hand, it remains largely desolate and run-down, with grannies living stubbornly in their childhood homes built within stained walls sheltered by rusted tiles. Around each corner, there will be an abandoned house with chains and padlocks at the door and weeds sprouting from every crevice. On the other hand, Man Uk Pin has been both regentrified as well as redeveloped. There are many families like mine, who, despite going overseas for better lives, retain the ancestral land and return to rebuild an appropriate home for their retirement, their holidays, or their extended family. The appropriate chinese aphorism is that 'Falling Leaves Return To Their Roots', a saying which has been popularised by Adeline Yen-Mah's biographical book. As well as returning familes, there has been an inevitable creep of foreign development. 

This year, my dad told me that the first Westerner had moved into Man Uk Pin -  upon pondering, it isn't much of a surprise. It is a quiet, picturesque location with clear enough skies to see the stars at night. I assume it's within driving distance to whatever business he had within the northern end of the New Territories, and given the quite frankly frightful property prices of a flat akin to a broom cupboard in other areas of HK, not a bad investment at all. There is a large piece of communal land in the village which is presently, and for decades -  has been unoccupied by nothing but shrubbery, grass and probably a few snakes. The village elders have recently given their permission for this area to be redeveloped into new housing - whilst the construction will be a plain eyesore for all the villagers, and the new residents a foreign and unfamiliar sight, it will nonetheless be money that will be reinvested back into the tiny community.

Lush green land which surrounds the village, but will soon be transformed into new housing

 There are dozens and dozens of such villages along Sha Tau Kok road, and the acres of land that span these villages will represent many hidden gem investment opportunities in the coming years.

Back in the days when my Grandfather was a child, times were tough for a lot of people, and it was not uncommon for children to taken away from their own homes to be raised by either grandparents or aunties and uncles, almost as their own. In the case of my own family, my great-grand parents actually adopted a boy to be raised as their son, amongst their own children. (This adopted boy eventually grew up to live in the Netherlands, where his grandchildren and great grandchildren now live). Now, the details are sketchy, and my own recollection of the story even more so, so my cousins may have to correct me on this. But when my great grand father passed, there appeared to be much frustration amongst the sons - who were related by blood - that the adopted son was mentioned in their father's will, and would get an equal share of the land alongside the brothers. My granddad in particular, was incensed. There were many heated arguments and I'm led to believe these divisive discussions greatly contributed to the adopted son leaving for the Netherlands, whereas the brothers left for England.  In any case, I'm told that due to sheer carelessness on the part of Granddad, (and despite rumours that the will was stolen and hidden away from the adopted son, in efforts to deter his claim) the adopted son was left with a prime piece of undeveloped real estate in Man Uk Pin. This now belongs to his Dutch-born children and will be sold for a handsome sum when the property developers come knocking again. 

 

Precious real estate for an increasingly popular location

My dad was the second eldest of five kids. The whole family were born, raised and schooled in Man Uk Pin. The plot of land where our current house resides was not where he originally lived. His old house is now a white washed parking space.  I remember going back years ago before they had cleared the area, and all I saw was a small rectangular space overrun with weeds, surrounded by the foundations of four brick walls. I could barely imagine how they managed to squeeze seven people into that small space.

The length of the old house is clear to see. The width ran from the edge of the visible building, to perhaps the right side of the parked car.

There are a couple of sad sights in the village.  One is the area which used to be my dad's primary school. The land is so densely packed with overgrown branches, weeds and dilapidated structures that it is now closed off for safety's sake.

My dad told me that the kids would play football in this open yard, in front of the school.

The entrance to the school with it's opening date 1959.

Next to the abandoned school, there is now a small farm where primary school kids in the New Territories come on day trips to plant vegetables in their own little allotments, attaching small tags to the earth bearing their names. To my delight, there are also rabbits and guinea pigs housed here.  

My auntie has also grown some tasty papayas!

A fun fact I was told was that there has been at least one production crew group filming around Man Uk Pin. In some areas, underneath old sprawling trees and tall grasslands, you can imagine it looked exactly the same one hundred years ago, so it does make for an ideal TV studio if you needed some lush greenery as backdrop to a historical Chinese drama.

As previously mentioned, a lot of the village is run-down, with some buildings reduced to mounds of rubble. Some abandoned houses still stand but with gaping holes in them, and a family of stray cats wander around foraging and surviving on the leftovers of dinner put out by the villagers.  The majority of houses are very small and densely packed, running through the spine of the village. They're almost like terraced houses.  One can imagine it is very difficult and also not very worthwhile to fully demolish, clear and redevelop in these spaces. So they are just left as piles of dirt and rubbish, permanent skips.  Other properties which are moreso on the outskirts are larger and grander.  Unfortunately a few of these are also uninhabited and nature has pretty much had it's way with them.

An empty property which hasn't been looked after in years -  the entrance is permanently open and it probably won't shut anyway without some serious gardening being done.

My parents own place is well maintained, pretty much because my auntie lives there now. We have only typically returned once a year, staying around two or three weeks at a time. When they pass by a villager, there is always a friendly greeting and a casual comment like 'Come back, have you?', which may then leads to a conversation about how healthy the plants in their garden look, whether their great Aunt is keeping well, or maybe who else has come back to the village recently from abroad for a holiday. 

A typical view inside Man Uk Pin

One of the things that I was always curious about, and is curious in itself, is how my family treat religion, or worship.  I once asked my mother if we were Buddhists, or Taoists (Taoism worships several deities). She replied that we were not strictly religious, and rather, the reason behind our worship was for our ancestors and family. Any worship of God or Gods(s) would be to pray for their happiness in the afterlife, as well as the health and success of our own current families. This isn't just a peculiarity for our family - a lot of Chinese will practice a form of ancestral veneration (in Hakka, it is called 'Bai San') which blends Buddhist and Taoist principles.  I don't have any strong religious convictions but I do believe in a higher power, whatever form it takes. And I believe in the importance of filial piety.  Maybe the way I was brought up has shaped my view, but I personally feel this is my own view that, rather fortunately, agrees with the way I was brought up. Plus, I think it's really cool that I get to burn 'Heaven' and 'Hell' money (you have to hedge your bets) to pass to my ancestors.

The contents of a small stone shrine/alcove alongside a walking path. Incense, wine, and a statute of (what I know now to be) the God of War, Guan Yu. He is said to subdue demons.

Now, the further out you venture from the houses, the dense and green it gets. You can get as far as hiking up the mountains to Shenzhen, which a group of us did once. I got a kick out of getting a China Telecom signal at the top - like I was roaming in a different country. I also still have a photo (developed, like in the olden days, so I can't blog it) of my younger brother 'climbing' over the barbed wire fences, to, er, freedom - to China. 

Paths that lead to streams and Star Fruit trees

There were a couple of stories that my uncle told me, that for the life of me I wish I could properly remember. I recall he spoke about their dozen guinea pigs, descriptions of the streams which he and my dad used to splash about and play in, and the evil hounds from one of the neighbouring houses which would chase after you if you were within a hundred yards of it's property. Actually, that last one was probably a recent thing, as I do recall running for my life on one occasion when a few of us strayed too far from the beaten path.  What I do clearly recall, was the nostalgic expression on his face as he looked over the trees and mountains, following the end of our ascent to the borders of China.  I could imagine that all his childhood memories were passing through his head fondly at that point, and how much had changed since that time.


So finally, my house, or rather my dad's house (which will then become my brother's, because girls can't inherit property, pfft).

My dad's house isn't really just my dad's house. It's a little complex of one small empty building (owned by my second uncle, as his mother lived in it for all her life since her a death a few years ago) and one larger building which is split into two, two ends of a semi-detached, if you will. One end is the property of my dad, and the other end is my uncle's, my dad's elder brother. Although the land always belonged to the Law's, the building itself is new built. It was completed when I was in my early teens, and I vaguely remember a lot of hoo-hah around it, as is traditional. A lion dance and firecrackers were brought in to equally bless the house as well as 'scare' off any evil spirits.  I remembered thinking the exterior was very pink and how peculiar that was.  The shade has somewhat faded now.

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The Law abode

We hardly ever live in this house, so it's sparsely decorated. This suits me, as whenever I come back here, it's a welcome change to de-clutter my surroundings and go back to a simpler way of life. There are no shops nearby. You have to take a mini-bus or a car to get to the nearest market town in Luen Wo Hui, so you have to live by the contents of your fridge. For entertainment, there are no bars or cinemas about, but  having a good old gander around the village is a frequent activity, occasionally accompanied by my auntie's dog Lily.

Lily chills on guard duty

My auntie has had Lily since she was a pup, after she retired and returned to HK. She'll typically sleep outside the house, within the gates, because she thinks it is her duty to watch guard over her faithful owner.  Whenever she hears someone approaching the house, she barks the place down and growls threateningly at said intruder. However, if my auntie casually asks her to quieten down and goes outside to greet the intruder, Lily will promptly shut up and never bother them again. She's lovingly loyal, and also knows how to shake your hand.

I enjoy looking out over the village either from the terrace or from the roof.  I work on the 53rd floor of the fith tallest building in Hong Kong - you can see for miles, and for miles you see a chaotic mass of harsh grubby steel and concrete, and air conditioning units.  Here, you don't see such things, and I swear it's fruit and veg for the eyes when you look out over a landscape that is so much more gentle to consume.

The view from my terrace, overlooking the patio. Great for a BBQ if ever we have one.

Another aesthetic bonus is that my mum and my auntie loves to keep plants and flowers, so there are approximately a million of them in and around the patio. I have to admit the colours certainly do brighten up the place, and they look very much in keeping with the surrounding environment.  

Vibrant colours around my patio

In my flat on Hong Kong island, I have a single handful of Bamboo stalks which my mum brought from Man Uk Pin. I am desperately trying to keep it alive, which really isn't hard, except for when you forget to water them. 

That is my bestest description of my home village, where 10,000 houses haunt the hills. It's not totally accurate, and there are perhap a dozen better stories and facts to tell you. But it's what I know, and I wanted to write it down so that I don't forget, or at least forget to appreciate where I've come from. 

Unfortunately I couldn't make it to my Granddad's funeral. I know however that my cousin, who was very close to him, said a few words, including repeating those he had spoken about his children and grandchildren. He said that he was very proud of us all, making successes of ourselves in the world. He also said that, we should not forget to enjoy life and not work ourselves to the ground. I wish I had shown my gratitude to him more when he was alive. Instead, all I can do to make him proud now, is to try and heed his words as much as possible in my own life.  I hope I never forget what he has given me.

English to (HK) Chinese Dictionary – a cynical interpretation

*Nodding and agreeable noises*

English:  Verbal translation: I understand what you’re saying

Chinese: Verbal translation: I acknowledge that you are saying something and that the words are audible

*Vaguely unintelligible opinions that appear to not have a concise point*

English: Complete nonsensical cr@p that demands further clarification

Chinese: Common business convention, where a sense of ambiguity is preferred over the prospect of losing face

Lunch time

English: A twenty minute break from the office where one fetches a sandwich to eat back at the desk

Chinese: A sacred one hour get-away which must be observed because you won’t get that chance again for another 24 hours and you need a significant amount of time away from the office in order to stay sane.

Networking

English: An encouraged activity, designed to promote visibility across the management hierarchy and to increase exposure of an individual’s achievements, involves a significant degree of @ssmosis.

Chinese: A hypothetical activity, which can only be applied in practice in the presence of your direct line manager in case you say something stupid which makes him look like a fool, for which you will receive a smack-down for shortly. As high net worth/senior management targets are often expatriates, they must be treated as deities, and therefore all engagement must continue to reflect utter subservience, and all their jokes are extremely funny.

Chain of Command / Management Hierarchy

English: The formal authority structure and governance model within an organization.  Ultimate accountability falls on the manager’s shoulders, however conference calls, meetings and projects are attended and accomplished by a general mix of SMEs, project managers and senior sponsors. Discussions are had between various levels of hierarchy, supported by a degree of trust between subordinates and managers. There are multiple lines of communication across the organization.

Chinese: The formal authority structure which must be observed in normal day to day circumstances. All communication is channeled through the single chain of command between subordinate, manager and senior manager. This allows all information to pass through the middle manager so that they have the latest news to pass to the senior manager - even if they don’t actually have a clue on what is actually going on. In this respect, micro-management is the norm. No circumvention should occur, unless someone is on leave in which case special dispensation to speak directly to upper management is granted. A centralised structure is preferred over a more efficient, open structure and perceived power is heavily orientated towards senior figures.   These senior figures, especially expatriates, are descended from the heavens and must be fawned upon.

Communication in Meetings:

English:  Individuals are expected to contribute opinions and expertise. Depending on the matter at hand, junior staff may be empowered to attend, and provide subject matter expertise to senior stakeholders. The use of “I” is prevalent, to represent the offering of one’s opinion. The key objective is to attain a solution to the problem at hand through discussion and brain storming.  

Chinese: Meetings involving important business are attended by the privileged few (see Chain of Command/Management Hierarchy).  All expertise is second-hand, gathered collectively by management’s collective minions. Reaching a mutually agreeable consensus is the key objective, and therefore opinions should be offered vaguely and meekly. Strong viewpoints should be avoided in case they get shot down by management. 

Prospectus

English: A document outlining the terms of a venture or project in order to attract new clients or business.

Chinese: The preferred word for “perspective”

An epiphany

So last weekend I had a big think, culminating in one of those epiphany things.

After I had a sh*tty day at work (where all my suspicions about management ineptitude was at last, fully realised) I had a thought that this backbreaking, ass-wiping, smiling-through-idiocy-with-clenched-teeth business was simply not worthwhile.  At least not now, in Hong Kong, in the fledgling stages of my apparent carte blanche of a career where I am simply known as 'the girl from London'.  None of the brand that I built back in London counts for anything here. And it's too late right now to make it count- at least for 2013.

So, here was my epiphany.  F*ck it.  I came out here to grow as a professional, and as a person.  I came out here to begin a new chapter, but what that chapter contains is not predefined. It's important to me that I do well at work - I have never given less than my full commitment, but at times like these, I can get some perspective and realise (as in make true) that there are other things I can put my heart into, which are within my control, which will make me better, more fulfilled, and happier.  I will be the own puppeteer of my life, the measure of which I will both define and accomplish.

Because this blog is all rather self indulgent and let's face it, pretty damn boring, here's a visual to emphasise my point - drawn in the style (and as an homage to) my favourite comic artists at Cyanide & Happiness.

I'll show you.. *shakes fist*.

HK: Now with pictures

I've just realised that I haven't demonstrated much proof, other than all my whingey* blogs that I have actually upped and moved to Honkers. Friends have but seen me whisked away in a car, apparently headed to the airport, apparently bound for HK. I wouldn't blame you if there was some small suspicion that I hadn't left the UK at all and instead have fled to some nondescript hamlet in the country, cos I just got sick of you people.

*Or as autocorrect would have it, all my 'Shingles'. Eeeuch.

Well, here's some proof, and also an opportunity to show off  start making my blogs a little more interesting by inserting some random pictures in between paragraphs to keep your interest. And sure I could have ripped these off Google Images, but I didn't so nuuhh.

Overlooking Hong Kong Island from the Sky Terrace at The Peak

The best word I can use to describe the Hong Kong I know thus far is discord.  The landscapes are crammed full of jarring, clunky, 1960s inspired buildings and skyscrapers, many of which require more than a lick of paint,  and a few more which stand out like sore thumbs what with their lemon yellow or salmon pink facades. Not many world heritage sites or 'Grade II listed' buildings here. The streets are crowded, and bathed in a subtle smog that is only fully (and alarmingly) visible from high above (see later photo).  I can't wander 200 yards in my local neighbourhood without an elderly lady shoving a pamphlet or newsletter into my path, whilst I awkwardly shake my head and avoid eye contact. Dress sense ranges from high end couture, to baggy T shirts with misspelt English accompanied by pink flip flops. There is so much inconsistency and incongruity, but I guess this is what makes it HK?

Speaking of fashion -  note to HK, it is most unfortunate to name a clothing brand for men "5cm".

Away from the metropolis.. my family home in the New Territories

Home grown Papayas outside the family home

There is a small plot of land (where the home is) which we own, and a larger plot a few yards away which unfortunately, several decades ago, due to some mislaid paperwork/family feuds/bad timing (depending on how sensationalist you want to be) is no longer ours to claim.  A big pity, since that plot of land is a prime piece of real estate in a village that people with a lot of money are slowly beginning to take more interest in. Also, it has a small Starfruit orchard, very cool.

The view from the 53rd Floor of One Island East

Finally, this picture may seem to have no place in this blog post, but I'd like to justify it as a demonstration of  the aforementioned incongruence, when really I just want to show you a decapitated roasted pigeon head. 

In case you're wondering, it tastes like something in between duck and KFC but they're freaking scrawny so you don't get much meat out of it.

Further observations from the field

Further observations from the field.

The GwaiLo* are penalised for their gastronomic lunch inclinations. A custom made salad with one set of greens and one filling costs £4 minimum.

Samsung phones dominate iPhones in HK in the same way iPhones dominate Samsung phones in the UK.  The teenage HK equivalent for a big blingin' car appears to be how massively wide your Samsung phone is and flaunting it on the MTR (tube system).

I have reason to believe that HK chickens are fed a steady diet of carrots and satsumas.

There are more people wearing spectacles than not. Indeed they are a fashion accessory. You can't flaunt a funky pair of contact lenses.

Everyone loves a promotion. Shopping centres are awash with discount coupons, loyalty points, freebies (I bought a toothbrush and shampoo from the HK equivalent of Boots and got six free cartons of Lemon tea).

Marks & Spencer's are a desirable luxury British brand.

Pizza Hut is authentic Italian cuisine.

With congee, it's all about the ingredients.

The Mainland Chinese are coming.

In London, one of the more surprising pleasures of observing historic architecture is looking up past the shop exteriors and to the Tudor/Georgian/Victoria/Ye Olde Stylee upper stories that remain decades afterwards. In Hong Kong, applying the same method will result in an eyeful of dusty cheap peeling paint,boxy fan extractors and air con units and pink pajama bottoms hanging out to dry

*Cantonese slang term for Caucasians. Not that it ought to be racist but it literally means "ghost bloke". What, you could all do with a bit of sun.

HK: The first week

First Paragraph Overriding Caveat:
OK. I am tired, let's get that out of the way so I don't have to say it again. I fear I am going to be perpetually tired here, mainly because of work and slightly because my mental hamster is working overtime in it's little wheel.  I've already complained to death to friends and family about the ridiculous expectations which are my job, so let's steer clear of that too.   These are things I am going to avoid blogging about (though it cannot be guaranteed), because let's face it - it's not interesting.

I've landed on Planet Hong Kong. It's not exactly new, but it is foreign.  More than ever now, I feel like an outsider. I've been here a week, and my stomach is telling me, "what the f*ck". Of course, the food is not bad here -  but I've yet to find the time or energy to explore beyond the vast numbers of Asian eateries, to locate my Western cravings - my big and bold steakhouses, my independent Italian restaurants , my Pret A Manger's (I saw someone carry a Pret bag - it MUST exist!).

I have also yet to explore beyond the shopping malls of Tai Koo, over than a couple of darting visits to our family's spiritual home in the New Territories, near Sheung Shui.  The streets are cramped full of people, the buildings are tall, vast, and largely dusted with grey mould.  Large, ostentatious signs jut out over and under each other from all blocks, advertising 'Deluxe Restaurant' or 'Estate Agent' or usually something in Chinese that I can't read. The weather, in the past week, has been flat out rubbish.  From the 53rd floor of my workplace, I can barely see the tops of buildings, but only a thick dark cloud, sometimes rainy, sometimes stormy. I'm told just appreciate the temperate climate, as in the Summer I am going to clearly die.

National pastimes here appear to be the aforementioned Shopping and Eating.  There are masses of shops selling items of a vanity related nature. Good skincare seems to be the first rule of being a Honky.  Other than that, there are many clothes boutiques, which I wouldn't mind so much if it weren't for the mandatory Annoying Shop Assistant who stalks you around the store, and exploits the moment that you glance at a dress for more than 1.5 seconds to pounce on you and jabber on about how it's the most popular dress in the store,  how you should try it on, how the changing room is this way and let me lead you to the changing room and here's a basket for all your other forthcoming purchases!

I walked into Marks & Spencer today with no intention of buying anything but just to experience a feeling of familiarity (it was nice).  

The supermarket was interesting, as they always are. Absolutely no microwave/oven ready meal aisle, but a full aisle of instant noodles. How I miss my lasagne. I dawdled around for a good half an hour looking for some Western comforts in the shape of bread and pasta before abandoning the whole idea when I saw the check out queue and the fact dawned on me I didn't bring any bags (one should appreciate the flagrant distribution of free carrier bags in UK supermarkets).

My parents have been immense -  screw the whole independence thing, it would have been utter hell to find a flat, sort out the utilities (and broadband, let's not forget the most important thing) and open a bank account here without their help. My dad has arranged for all the furniture and taken a screwdriver to sort out all the niggly bits, my mum has bought all the houseware (down to the bathroom mat) and has religiously ironed all of my clothes, and made sure I eat an ample amount of fruit each day. They've even brought me some lunch when I was in the office. I can't imagine how difficult it would have been without them, and I am eternally grateful.

Thoughts of England and my past life are still freshly in my head.  I miss the greenery, the people, the language, the fact that I didn't really have to think about things before doing them.  Right now there is a lot of mental effort into thinking about where I shall go for lunch.

I should think that once I am fully resigned (and therefore, physically conditioned) to my new lifestyle or lack thereof, I will be able to do the whole socialising thing. Right now, it is just a process of adjustment and looking at the Long Game as we call it - all the benefits will be there for the reaping, it's just going to be a challenging journey and a complete b*tch to begin with.

Also, you may have noticed it is my Birthday today, and usually that means I'm on holiday  - but I've granted myself a Mid-transition Exemption for Habilitation period (or a MEH) where I will do nothing much of note, though I did blog and that is actually a momentous occasion in itself.

 Onwards to my new life!

London (the life movie)

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London
Genre: Comedy/Drama.
Duration: 6 years and 5 months.
Rating: (Not enough retrospect to determine)
Written, directed and staring: Me.

END OF FIRST MOVIE.  (SEQUEL TO BE CONFIRMED).
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