The eyes of SuYen
Act II of an erotic tale taking place in Hong Kong


fille de Chine


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Bateau en rade de Hong Kong, 1967 We where on our way to Kobe coming from Bangkok. The large steamer of the French Maritime Company was anchored in the Victoria Harbour for a short stopover, this picturesque inlet that divides Kowloon from Victoria.

Temple WongTaiSin, bâtons d'encens Fille aux bâtons d'encens
That morning, the Wong Tai Sin taoist temple bathed in emanations of incense that irritate my throat. The faithfuls where in great number, kneeling, facing the temple, they where shaking mysterious sticks in bamboo cylinders whose sound reflected on the irregular walls of the temple. I registered the sounds, the emanations, the colors, as of multiple signs that impregnate all my being with the mysteries of the Orient. Instinctively, I integrated myself into the collective ritual and I handled awkwardly, the mysterious oraculars, letting them escape in great number announcing bad presages; I reinstalled them in the bowl until I had the necessary control over them so that only a single stick escaped by the controlled movements of the cylinder, and whose penmanships should announce good presages to come.

Temple WongTaiSin, fillette et oraculaires
One of the sticks escaped laboriously from the bowl and felt on the ground discovering its untranslatable hieroglyphs. I did not know what to do, I remained motionless and quiet, watching by the corner of my eyes the effect, on the skeptics faithfuls, of this unforeseen success.



Temple WongTaiSin, oraculaires
I approached my hand to pick up the stick; the white and frail hand of a girl was picking it up already; I came so close and I almost touch the frail hand of the mysterious unknown girl. A shiver suddenly seized my whole being, the Orient had just opened a small door where, perhaps, I could penetrate.

I did not noted her presence beside me, absorbed like I was, discovering the strange taoist rituals that I assimilated by imitation, observing the numerous Chinese faithfuls who agglomerated around the temple's open place.

She was dressed with a cheongsam of an immaculate whiteness. Under the effect of the movement to pick up the stick, her long and black hair spreaded with disorder down to the level of her hips, a long and fine leg profiled boldly out of the broad side opening of her cheongsam. She gently seized the stick and approached it to her eyes as for better decipher its strange penmanships.

les yeux de SuYen

She turned towards me and looked at me fixedly. Her large bridle eyes were imprinted by a sadness that disturbed me.

- "My name is SuYen," she says timidly lowering her eyes and joining her two hands in a gesture of reverence, she firmly held the oracular between the palms of her hands as an invaluable object she seemed to protect.



I was struck, I looked at her and I did not dare to say any word.

Temple WongTaiSin, kiosque des oracles
I forgot the stick, the meaning of the presage, that I had to get interpreted by the oracles of the temple, I could have questionned SuYen, would she interpret for me, the meaning of the presage or would she keep it jealously? My sudden surprise remove all my capacities, I was silent, like striken down by the unforeseen appearance of SuYen, her strange eyes and the indefinable disorder of her glance.

- "If you wish, tonight we meet at the Tai Pak?"

That was said like a prayer, there was no significant intonation letting perceive a solicitation to a love affair, it signifies something else, a mysterious appointment that her attitude hardly dissimulated and which I could never suspect the amplitude. I understood that I would be then, entitled to the interpretation of the presage of the oracular.

I did not dare to say anything, or I could not.

Temple WongTaiSin
She rose calmly, and without saying any other word, she disappeared silently outside the religious complex, letting dropped a tiny paper when raising up. I collected the paper, it was a business card. It indicated the name of a restaurant of Aberdeen, the Tai Pak.

I hardly left the railway station platform of Kowloon, the eyes of the beautiful foreigner are always fixed on my eyes, she carries a mischievous smile, then I look at her when she disappear slowly through the crowd.

Nathan Road


There is effervescence that evening. The imperial-buses circulate in a continuous flow; the multicoloured neon-signs illuminate the sky; an infernal noise fills up the canyon of Nathan Road; along the Public Pier besides the Star Ferry, the illuminated panorama at the foot of Victoria Peak, shines from all its fires. On the Victoria side, around and under the strange tower of the Bank of Hong Kong, Philippino workers furnish all the open spaces in an indescribable hubbub marking their Sunday leave with a pathetic ritual. Hong Kong had changed since then, but I always have the eyes of SuYen in my mind, the beautiful SuYen; and I revive the journey to Aberdeen like it was thirty years ago, my heart is jumping of impatience and yet I have the spleen in my soul.

Victoria public pier Victoria harbour
travailleuses philippines Tram lumineux

Aberdeen had changed. The multicoloured restaurants are always there, at some distance from the quays, embedded in an explosion of insipid buildings that veil forever, the sinuous contours of the high cliffs. I recognized very well the floating pontoons, that of the Sea Palace then of the Tai Pak, the splendid junks from that time with their large red sails, had disappeared from the bay; the Tankas, these mysterious "boat people" always covers the water plains in their motionless junks, parked away from the luminous floating restaurants.

Sampans
Pontons des restaurants flottants Jonque chinoise





Marco Polo or the imaginary journey (Contes et légendes asiatiques, translated from french, mars 1997) © 1997 Jean-Pierre Lapointe
Photos by the author taken in 1968 and 1996


ACT III