They out of their land, the motherland and the peoples, the stupid stupid peoples, rejected them and now they're out of their land. And now all that's left is smattering of stories that was once the culture and religion and now are stories. And then only passed to those children of the motherland that left so long ago, to the South and the South-East and the North and the Western wastes.

I'm South-East Asian, I should not know more about our creation myths than the mainland Chinese. My blood ties with the motherland is thin. I'm a part of the hot and the humid, the jungle. I've never seen the dust and the snow and the wild spaces of China. My family decided to leave that behind years and years ago. I'm of the South East now.

So why do I know more about the original Chinese myths than a mainlander? Why does Waterloo street hold on to our worship and our old ways untouched from that upheaval in China that destroyed them in their own homeland?

I should not know more about Nuwa, about Pangu, about the great Sages that taught men, about every creation myth and creature and great story that we have. Only the very iconic, Sun Wukong, and others like him, only those that mainlanders know.

Dear gawd what have you done China, you've left your culture and history to people like me, who are mongrels and thin-blooded. I'm long away from from China, I've been darkened by the wet sun, not the dry. Yet I know more about your dog gods then so many of your young will ever know.

The dog gods are crying for a return home.