In the 60s’ we lived in an attic room with a small bathroom and a stove which stood next to the bathroom wall. There was a small table and two chairs. We lived on bread, square fish and tomatoes. And Kraft dinner. With ketchup.

Below us lived a Chinese family, recently arrived from Hong Kong. I used to play with Mr and Mrs Kwan’s two children, Cynthia and Jason. Mr Kwan worked in a Chinese restaurant somewhere downtown. Mrs Kwan would come upstairs and give mother and I chicken wings to cook up and eat. The natives were poorer than the immigrants, and Mrs Kwan knew this.

We used to shout “Gung ho” at one another. “Gung ho” means “work together”.

The Chinese with their long millenials of history know that we all have to work together to survive. Those chicken wings meant everything to us.

They are a great people, the Chinese. As far as I am concerned they can do no wrong. People will comment on the CCP – the government of China – and its “outrages” against Hong Kong and Taiwan.

I say governments, any government, whether Chinese, French, German etc, are not représentative of its people. Not in this day and age.

One day I will go to China and remember Mr and Mrs Kwan.