The Foreign Service Journal, December 2009

My husband was dying. “What do you want me to do with your ashes?” I asked Don, in the only serious conversation we had between a three-cancer diagnosis and his death 18 days later. “Doesn’t matter.” I decided his final resting place should be beneath the murky waters of the South China Sea, near the former British colony of Hong Kong where, some 20 years before, the Marines at the U.S. consulate had put us together on a blind date for their annual ball. Don Young had taken me to Macau for our first weekend together. We gambled at the casino and dined at a Portuguese restaurant called Saludes, whereDon’s good friend Father Lance- lot Rodriquez drank Scotch, played his guitar and lifted a lilting tenor voice in beautiful rendition of every schmaltzy, sentimental song ever written, from “Home on the Range” to “Danny Boy.” Now, at my request, Lancelot had commandeered the mayor of Macau’s boat. We circled the Buddhist Statue of Hope in the bay where the Pearl River meets the sea. Lancelot donned a sur- plice and said a few solemn words. I kissed the red vase containing my hus- band’s ashes and sent it spinning into the water. Then I was back at my hotel in cen- tral Hong Kong for a dreary weekend before continuing on to Cambodia and Angkor Wat. There I would try to for- get my grief —at least for the moment. Don’s and my courting days had been full of friends, romance and glamour. Now that was all gone. Impulsively, I called one of his Chi- nese friends, Yeng Pong. She invitedme to dinner and asked if I’d like to accom- pany her family to the races in Kowloon the next day. Mama Pong had a horse running in the third race at Sha-Tin. I was escorted into a private lunch- room with three round tables, each set for 12. An ice sculpture of a magnifi- cent horse’s head graced the buffet table. Waiters filled wineglasses as soon as a first sip was taken. Private betting booths were set up along the side. A large red envelope with elegant Chinese squiggles on it rested at a table where I was to hold the place of honor. It contained “luckymoney,” Yeng explain- ed. This custom ensured that a guest, obliged to wager cash that might be lost, would not be made to feel uncomfort- able. My envelope contained $1,200. My instinct was to take the money and run, but that would have been rude. Instead, I resolved to bet on every race, choosing a horse by name: the more American it sounded, the more likely I would be to place my bet. By the last race, I had lost on every horse I’d chosen, including a hefty amount on the gorgeous, sorrel-colored filly owned by my hostess. I had only a few hundred dollars left. Mama Pong glared intently at the racing form. She knew which jockey had gained a pound, who had done poorly or well in recent contests. “Ask Don for guidance,” she sug- gested, looking up. “I always askmy late husband what to choose.” “I don’t know why,” her daughter whispered. “Dad never won a race in his life.” I checked the listings. One name stood out: Strong Scotch. Yes, Don would like that one. Despite horrific odds, I put all the money I had left on this nag’s nose. He came in first. I paid for a week at the Mandarin Hotel with crumpled bills I’d won the afternoon before at Sha-Tin’s last race of the season and left for Thailand and Cambodia, feel- ing somehow less sad than on arrival. The world wasn’t totally drab, I de- cided. Even now, there was some ad- venture left. Somewhere, I knewDon Young was smiling. ■ Ginny Young accompanied her late husband, Jim Carson, on several For- eign Service tours before his death in 1973. She then entered the Foreign Service herself. Ten years later, she married Don Young, whom she met on assignment in Hong Kong. Young accompanied her on further postings to Mexico and Romania. He died in 2002. The Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training will publish her memoir, Peregrina: Adventures of an American Consul , next year. One name stood out: Strong Scotch. 100 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / D E C E M B E R 2 0 0 9 R EFLECTIONS A Day at the Races B Y G INNY Y OUNG

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