February 27, 1943 - Hong Kong

The City changes

Now I am back in Hong Kong.
We have plenty of land in the village—three houses, rice paddies. And we were safer. But I wasn’t doing well. I was hunting for freshwater crabs and my leg got infected, and had to be treated with leeches, to suck out the bad blood. So one of my brothers and I decided to go back, because we weren’t suited to village life, and I was getting sick.
We bought false papers because the border was strictly controlled by the Japanese, and we wouldn’t be able to get back in without a good reason. The trip took several days by boat and by foot, and the weather was harsh and cold. One night I was woken up and interrogated by a Japanese patrol and I nearly gave myself away when, half-awake, I blurted out my real name. Luckily, the Chinese translator was sharp and gave them my false name.
When we arrived in the city, it had changed so much I barely knew my way back home. The occupying forces had put up barriers everywhere and the trolley routes had all changed. Prices had inflated, so that a wafer of sugar now cost 200 dollars. There was a curfew, and new rules. When I went to visit one of my sisters who was sick in the hospital, they beat me for not kowtowing at the entrance, and beat my mother too for not teaching me properly. My sister died later that week.