We travelled by tour bus, and were stopped at the Iran-Turkey border. Everybody else on the bus got clearance for passage except for my family.

What was the hold up? Our passports! It seems that the people staffing the Turkish border that shift on that day had never seen a Repbulic of China passport before. They thought that it was the "other" China. Finally, the arrival of a higher ranking official cleared us.

My brother was nearly lost forever on that trip. We both had gone to the bathroom at one of the rest stops, where there were many other tour buses parked along side ours. I had gotten back just a short while earlier. As I looked out the window, hey, there he is on this bus parked next to ours!

He had gotten back to the wrong bus!

If we had not just happened to see each other, how would we have gotten him back?

Istanbul was so exotic. The mosques have a different look, the food, the street performers, the baazars, and the boat cruise to the European side.

We were approached by a guy offering to exchange money for very advantageous rates. My dad felt something wasn't right and turned down the offer. After that guy had left, we were told by people around us, that had we proceeded to exchange, our wallet would've been grabbed and tossed around to accomplices (the classic "who's got the ball" move). Tourists beware!

My son reminds me so much of my brother. When I play tent or play wrestle with my son now, there's this déjà vu  feeling. My son's height difference to me now is just about what my brother's was to mine in 1977. I'd find myself saying the same things: "Go do your homework!", "Stop watching TV!", "Get up for school!"

Sometimes we would get a second chance to relive our sibling relationship with our own children!