A visit to my parents village near Guangdong, China

I have seen the village with my own eyes, now I can more readily appreciate my parent’s life values, work ethics and aspirations. The village is a special sense of place. It’s about the land and the people; there’s a bond and a respect. The land will yield proportionately to the effort put forth and vice versa. A simple life’s lesson which so many fail to understand…

Lastly, I have seen many fantastic buildings throughout China designed by the world’s best architects and entire cities built overnight, but the true power and soul of China is in the villages and the farmers. They are burdened with the task of feeding 1.3 billion people who depend on them for their subsistence.




The family home was built in 1931 by my grandfather assisted by my father who saved his earnings from working in a grocery store and restaurant in California. Even though my father's adopted country was the United States, he always remembered his roots and contributed funds for a newly built community center.

It was bittersweet leaving the Grand Lady knowing I’ll probably not see her again. It has served our family well and has seen its share of China’s history, the good and the bad; and the best is yet to come.

I am kneeling in the dark shirt.

Straight ahead is the Community Center our parents help build with their donations.

My parents are on the right and my sister and her husband, Tony, is in the middle plaque.

The Village folks came out to greet us.

Picture was taken on the 3rd story balcony. From left to right, Allen, our family friend, Suzie, living in house, sister, Dorothy (in blue) and sister, Jeanne.

I am standing next to the pond and the drying beds for the vegetables, etc.