Glitz and Glamour

This post goes out to Leslie, Jenni, and all the other nameless shop-a-holics out there.


Angled view at Festival Walk Mall in Kowloon Tong.

A trip to the mall in Hong Kong can be an expensive and surreal venture. Malls here are reserved mainly for high-end shops - Armani, Chanel, and many other stores that I've never felt patronage towards. That said, the malls are sprinkled with everyday shops to tickle the pleasure of even me.

Coffee shops are essential, huge places for lingering, and the residents of Hong Kong know how to linger unlike any others I've seen. Movie theatres can be quaint, leather plated palaces of escape. High-end grocers sprout in unlikely places, offering meat flown in from the United States and Australia and take-away curries.

At Times Square, a 20+ story development in Causeway Bay, the floors are intentionally segmented into themes - 2 floors for electronics, 1 for children, 2+ for adult outerwear, etc. The IFC (International Finance Center) and the Prince's Building are the two malls that I find myself in most often. Clad in marble and chrome, not unlike most of Central Hong Kong, and with backlit expanses and open piano performance areas, they stand as much as monuments to shopping as they do actual places for real merchandise.

Malls are built for foot traffic, because even with their high-end brands, malls here attempt to be as intertwined with daily life as possible. The IFC is the major transportation hub for Central with ferry launches to the outer islands and a station for the Airport Express train. Prince's gets more of its traffic from it's skyway connections which link to a network of above ground walking routes.

Everyday I pass stores I'd never dream of approaching at home. They'd have to be destinations. Intentions. Here, they are my landmarks, yard art, and just "noise" that are now beginning to be overlooked in commute.

They say that shopping in Hong Kong is a sport, and I'd believe it. A good shopper trains, practices, and probably even stretches in the coarse of their outings. So shop-a-holics, if you are looking for a place to test your abilities, you may have found a destination worthy of your play.

My Partner in Adventure

Here he is. "Mr. Eric" as he is known in Hong Kong - the silent partner in many of the adventures that you see on my blog. While Eric is often shy of getting in front of the camera, he has donated numerous photos to my blog and other insights, for which I have not given enough credit or thanks for. Here we see him in Beijing standing on the spot where the Tiananmen Square massacre took place in 1989. He was able to visit while on a recent business trip.

A Historical Primer

We've been busy these last two weeks with work, adventures, and visitors, so I haven't had a chance to post very much, but I thought I'd take the opportunity today to post a link to a quick Hong Kong history for those that aren't familiar with it:

http://www.geoexpat.com/about-hong-kong/information/hong-kong-short-history/

And for those of you who can't click through to this link, here is the text of the story from geoexpat.com.

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Before British merchants and forces arrived during the 19th century, there was no geographical unit known as Hong Kong. The land and islands that are now within the Hong Kong SAR (Special Administrative Region) had been important for pearl farming, and for guarding the approaches to one of the world’s great trading cities, Guangzhou (or Canton as it was long known in the west); there were farmers, fishermen and pirates among a populace that sometimes sided with rebellious forces, leading to gross mistreatment by the newly ascendant Qing dynasty in 1662.

It was British envoys who saw potential in the area they called Hong Kong, as a defensible harbour and base for trading with China, and made cession of Hong Kong Island a key part of a peace treaty signed after China and Britain battled over matters arising from the opium trade. The treaty was signed in 1842; 18 years later, China ceded Kowloon and nearby Stonecutters Island to Britain. In 1898, after more fighting, China agreed to a 99-year lease for additional islands, and a swathe of mainland north of Kowloon – the “New Territories”. Britain wanted the land partly to guard against perceived threats from Russia, France, Germany and the United States, which were all grabbing territory in east Asia.

When the lease ended at midnight on 30 June 1997, Hong Kong Island and Kowloon were returned as well as the New Territories. Hong Kong had by then undergone an astonishing transformation, which was certainly not envisaged by Britain’s Foreign Secretary in the early 1840s, Lord Palmerston – who famously described Hong Kong Island as “a barren island, which will never be a mart of trade”.

TRADED - AND MADE - IN HONG KONG

Trade became Hong Kong’s forte from virtually day one. Opium loomed large in the early years, when other goods included Chinese tea and silks. After the Second World War, particularly in the 1960s and 1970s when there were massive hardships under the mainland’s communist rule, there was a huge influx of people from China. Shanghai businessmen arrived among them; and the mix of a vibrant, low cost labour force, coupled with relatively laissez faire government and savvy business acumen helped spur a manufacturing boom. A host of typically cheap items were exported; the world bought goods that were “Made in Hong Kong”.

With the death of Mao Zedong in 1976 and the rise of Deng Xiaoping two years later, China abandoned the policies of suppressing business talent, and embarked on the still ongoing, gigantic economic transformation. City streets once lined with small houses and dowdy Soviet style apartment blocks, and crammed with rivers of cyclists in uniform blue suits, were swept away by a tide of gleaming glass and steel, with thoroughfares where Mercedes and abundant taxis grind to a halt in traffic snarls.

Hong Kong helped kick-start China’s transformation, pouring in money and talent. Spurred by lower costs and laxer laws, factories shifted across the border; “Made in Hong Kong” might now be little more than a label affixed here, as mainland made goods are briefly brought in, then exported overseas with value added, and perhaps some taxes side-stepped.

A WORLD CITY WAVERS

Though Hong Kong is now under Chinese sovereignty, with a “special degree of autonomy”, it has entered a period of uncertainty. Even the government seems unsure what Hong Kong is, starting a campaign to brand Hong Kong as “Asia’s world city”, without clearly defining what this means, or apparently recognising that Hong Kong was already a city that surely ranked among the world’s greats: for GDP alone, Hong Kong eclipsed many a fair-sized country.

A couple of decades ago, Hong Kong was a gung-ho, can-do place (there’s even a restaurant calling itself “Can Do”). Now, the can-do attitude seems to have taken hold on the mainland, and seeped away from much of Hong Kong. Hong Kong has been known – with some justification - as the city “where east meets west” and “the Pearl of the Orient”. Hong Kong remains special; in business its competitive advantages include rule of law and free press. But time will tell whether, someday (soon?), Hong Kong’s most appropriate slogan might read, “Hong Kong: just another Chinese city.”

The classic images of Hong Kong – skyscrapers, teeming streets festooned with neon signs, bustling malls and busy harbour – perhaps suggest there’s little more to this place than Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. That’s quite wrong: Hong Kong boasts remarkable variety for a small place. While parts of Hong Kong are among the most densely populated districts in the world, around 40 percent of Hong Kong’s land area is designated as country park.

You can easily experience the great contrasts within Hong Kong simply by taking a short journey on Hong Kong Island. Ride up the Peak Tram, for instance, and you depart dense city, travel up wooded slopes, and arrive near a hilltop where you can look out over the city on one side, and stroll down a verdant valley cradling a small reservoir on the other.

And though Hong Kong has lost some of its pizzazz lately, this remains a vibrant place, with far more energy than you’ll find in many a major city.

HONG KONG CITY: HK ISLAND AND KOWLOOK

Think of Hong Kong city and you’ll probably think of northern Hong Kong Island, especially Central. It’s here you find the tallest skyscrapers, with the Stock Exchange, gleaming bank headquarters and other towers in Hong Kong’s financial heart.

The business district has spread eastwards, to embrace parts of Wanchai, but Wanchai retains its character, with wet markets in narrow streets, and bars hailing from the Suzy Wong era. East of Wanchai is Causeway Bay, a shoppers’ mecca, beyond which are more urban areas that merge into each other.

To the north, across the harbour, is Tsim Sha Tsui at the tip of the Kowloon peninsula. Packed with hotels, this is a major public face of Hong Kong. Here are classic Hong Kong streets packed with shops and overhung with neon signs; many shops cater for tourists, with silks, cloisonné, roughly done oil paintings that often feature sailing junks (can you spot a real one?).

North of Tsim Sha Tsui are districts like Mong Kok and Sham Shui Po, where people are squeezed into apartment blocks that fill the spaces between streets lined with shops and restaurants focused on dealing with regular Hong Kong people. Here, perhaps, you can best find Hong Kong’s human heart.

BEYOND THE CITY

Even outside the main city you can find urban areas. There are satellite towns in the New Territories north of Kowloon; they are important residential districts but aren’t too rewarding for visitors.

Villages tend to be far more pleasant for visiting during day-trips. Some are highly developed, almost becoming small modern towns – like Stanley on the south coast of Hong Kong Island. Some villages lying away from roads and railways are still very rural in character, though most of the original inhabitants have moved out – perhaps leaving a handful of elderly residents, or city commuters who have rented and renovated sturdy old houses.

Islands, too, tend to have a more rural character, the main exceptions being the Tung Chung new town on north Lantau Island, and Discovery Bay on Lantau’s east coast. While commuters help keep islands like Lantau, Cheung Chau, and Lamma vibrant, other islands are mostly quiet, or even abandoned by residents. Here, on a quiet headland, you may find echoes of days long gone, as you sit on a “barren island” and gaze out over the South China Sea, and the approaches to the Pearl River, and Guangzhou.

Smoldering Ashes

Although not perhaps the black sheep of the family, smell is often underappreciated. A smell can place you in time and place. A passing stranger wearing a certain cologne can conjure up pictures of a lost grandparent. A baking cookie can say without sound, welcome to a visitor. For me, the smell of incense is becoming undeniably intertwined with Hong Kong.

As with any large city, Hong Kong has a different smell almost every block - orchids in the park, beer on the street after a big game, and sweat from the person sitting next to you on the bus. But for all the varieties of things that I come across in a given day, every time I pass by a place that is burning incense, I think, man, I am living in Hong Kong.

While not a common occurrence on the street, you see incense a lot at the different religious monuments around town. Buddhists use incense like many Christian religions would use candles. There are big incense burners and miniature one. My favorites are the big ones, and when I say big, I mean big.

If I were to be standing next to this incense burner, I would come up just passed the beginning of the roof. This particular burner is at the Po Lin Monastery on Lantau Island, also the home of the big Buddha.

Incense is burned all day and likely all night at many shrines and can ever be purchased in tubes that had I not known I would have thought were large bottle rockets or Roman candles.

Growing up I thought of incense as another form of potpourri. Potpourri gives me headaches. Once I even got a bloody nose just as I knelt down to smell potpourri. I don't like potpourri to this day. I like incense. It's subtle and sweet. A good incense doesn't force itself on you but let's you find it.

Perhpas that's why I like Hong Kong but not Tokyo. Hong Kong is gentle and subtle in its uniqueness, presenting a new present to a visitor with each changing block. Tokyo is garish and overpowering in its greetings, flashing neon and people everywhere. When I visited my brother in Japan after high school, I never would have imagined coming back to Asia to live, but here I am. And I love it.

Report of a Broken Wall

We live in a building that is 25 stories tall. 25 stories. 1 entrance. 2 doormen. Endless stories.

Today, I was talking with Charles, our daytime doorman, about Eric's trip to China and the arrival of Chris. Charles is a very nice elderly Chinese gentleman who used to work as an international currency trader at a local Hong Kong bank. Now, he is retired, and we works 12 hour days at his post guarding the Greenville Building.

Charles met Eric first when Eric signed the apartment lease and made all the arrangements on the apartment before I arrived. He knows and likes Eric a great deal, always referring to him as Mr. Eric, which is not uncommon here. I don't think Charles knows my name, unless he thinks my name is sir.

This was Eric's first trip into Beijing and his first opportunity to see the Great Wall, which he has been talking about seeing as long as I have known him. He was excited.

Charles and I began our conversation as we always do, with our eyes. When you pass by someone between 2 and 6 times in a given day, it is important to come to an understanding of when you are going to engage in conversation and when comfort allows for silence. We are still ironing out our understanding, but we are learning to read each other better. Now, don't get me wrong, I am a Midwesterner, and I always say hi. It's what comes after "good morning" or "hello" that is variable. Our conversations have gone on for up to 10 minutes before.

This particular afternoon, I was carrying a bouquet of flowers, beautiful lilies which I had just picked up at a local market. A conversation was struck. The flowers. Their name in English. Their name in Chinese. Cantonese specifically. My brother coming to visit. The age of my brother. The height of my brother. Mr. Eric. The Great Wall.

"Ah, it's broken." Charles smiled and repeated, "It's broken."

It's a funny thing when you are able to communicate with someone but not really sure if you are able to communicate with someone. Charles and I know enough of a common language to discuss the weather, visitors, and misc., but was I really understanding him correctly? Was his real thought about the Great Wall that it's not whole anymore? While I think this might have been a joke that I didn't quite get, and thus, ruined his timing, this got me to thinking.

I have spent the last six weeks or so living in a city and a culture which I am not familiar with. I have spent a lot of that time seeing things that I believe to be important to the people here. Most of the time that I go to these things, I see only tourists. What if the local people don't actually care about these things? What if all they really think is "it's broken." Certainly there is a sense of taking for granted that any people can have who have been around something all their life, but how could that be true about the Great Wall.

Our conversation ended as it almost always does. The elevator door closed. Charles is left to wonder about that strange American who sometimes talks with him, to think of lilies and broken walls. I am left to stare at myself in the mirrors of the elevator and climb upwards. Thoughts run in my mind. A blog entry is formed.

My "Layover"

It's a quiet Friday night in Hong Kong. I sit in my chair and catch up on a few work tasks that got away from me during the week. This week has been a crazy one (but fun one!) as Eric's mom, Teresa, and her friend, Leann, were visiting. They say that when it rains, it pours, and I think that is true for us and visitors right now. We were never confident that anyone would come visit us let alone two groups in the first two months, but we are so glad. Tomorrow, 30 hours after Terry and Leann boarded their flight back to Los Angeles International, my brother, Chris, will arrive.

The cleaning has begun. The washing. Sheets. Towels. Dishes. All the remnants of a week of fun. I hate to wash them away, but we have our pictures. Many pictures. And we have memories and stories to tell. Late night dinners. Long treks. Crazy buddhas.

But for the moment, I am going to enjoy 20 minutes of quiet before a conference call and then sleep will ensure. Eric is Beijing for a few more days. Tomorrow he sees the Great Wall of china. It should be fabulous.

Po Lin Monastery

85 feet of Buddha is an impressive site, especially when placed in the middle of the mountains in scenic Hong Kong. A 45 minute ferry ride and a 50 minute bus ride from our cozy urban apartment is the vast open space of Lantau Island and the once secluded monastery. The Buddha, which was built in the 1980's, lies at the outskirts of the monastery, overlooking it and serving as a place of sojourn for tourists and worshipers alike.



Lantau Island is a large island, actually bigger than Hong Kong island (which makes up part of Hong Kong), and fairly remote. Until this Buddha and a new airport were constructed on it in the last 20 years, Lantau stood serene outside the hustle and bustle of this international city. Even today most of the island is untouched or used for small farms. Eric got quite a kick out of the hairy mountain cows which seemed undaunted by our large and imposing bus. No picture was available, but these guys looked like what I imagine an animal looks like that has been partially plucked - oddly pale and patchy.

The view from the Buddha of the surrounding lands was impressive as it was built right at the peak of a small growth in the land.



Here you can see the monastery below.



The structure on which the Buddha sits is just as impressive in many ways as the Buddha. On the outside there are a series of statues which I believe represent different followers and worshipers of the Buddha.



Inside, where cameras are not allowed, is an elaborate temple, although temple isn't really the right word. It contains almost a mini-museum of artifacts including what are said to be the special remains of an important Buddhist figure. Or I should say portion of the remains. In fact all you can see with the naked eye and from the distance you are kept from these remains is a little speck. But inside as well are ancient writings, artwork, and even an enormous bell. All very interesting to see.



I think that is all I will share the Buddha tonight. It's really quite a site. I couldn't quite tell how traditional it was or if this was an example of Disneyland meeting the Buddha.

What do you look like at 30 frames per minute?

If you haven't ever had a chance to do a web conference with someone, you really should try. If not for the practical, theoretical applications, for the entertainment.

The slow moving camera.

The choppy sound.

The lighting that would make a super model look like a serial killer.

I see now where Saturday Night Live got there idea to use a dorm room webcam for one of their skits. Over the past few weeks, my family and I have been sequentially testing out different cameras and connections with each other that will allow for online video chatting. We spend about 30 minutes opening, closing, and reopening windows and programs in an effort to get the software to work as it is supposed to. I use my internet phone to call them and try to talk through things. We give up and revert either to a phone call or online instant messaging.

As much of a pain it can be (sorry it crashed your computer dad) and as imperfect as the programs are, there is something really reassuring to seeing your loved ones on your screen and responding to you. My brother, Mark, showed me my nephew's art work today. It was so fun. He did a Reedyasaurus; scary monster that died out long ago. My brother said it had a big cranium, but I think that was just a favorable scientific interpretation. Last week, I got to see my mom's cast. She broke her hand and has been having quite the time. These devices and technologies really are changing the way we interact.

I don't know all my friends that have web cams or instant messaging accounts, but if you do, please e-mail me and let me know. You too can see what I really look like when I am typing at my computer;-) If that's not excitement, I don't know what is.

How Big Can a Buddha Get?

Any guesses?



Stay tuned for more information on the Buddha at Lantau Island.

Who thinks of these things?

Enough said.

How do you feel connected?

It's a strange thing, noise. Isn't it? Sometimes it can be our best and most comforting friend. At other times it can be our cruelest and most menacing foe.

What I find interesting though, is how noise can come to be friend or a comfort. The sound of metal drilling down the block that comes in through the alley, muffled in its distance and non-harmonious in its randomness, a comfort? The honk of a cab horn from our front window, extending beyond necessity in its own frustration, a comfort? The late night banter of club goers, a comfort? These are the background noises of the city where I live. It's one of the most densely populated areas of the planet, and while you wouldn't know it most days, these sounds are but little ways in which you become accustomed to your neighbors. In fact, for the large part, these are the only interactions we have with our neighbors at all. Distant, removed, and impersonal as they are, I still find comfort in them, in knowing that somehow we really aren't alone here.

Urban life is a strange beast. I think it throws up little challenges like noise in order to keep us on our toes. It reminds us that we are but humans living together in the world, and that for all comforts and amazing means of creating our own realities, we must still live together. I can call my family through my computer and feel like I am in Kansas, Nebraska, or Minnesota, yet I don't know any other tenants of our building. Noise helps to keep it real. It helps to keep me grounded here, and not to forget what an amazing journey we are on.

Safari in the City

Well, I might be overstating it just a little bit, but it is fun to have a functioning zoo right across the street! The Hong Kong Zoo is a winding series of nested spots that allow for a shaded afternoon walk or morning tai chi. It's free, and while similar in some ways to an American zoo, this zoo has a lot less of the really crazy animals and more exotic birds. About the most ferocious occupant are the cheetas, and the most obnoxious occupant would have to be the orangutans. From personal observation and other reports, I can attest to bizarre loud noises being produced for extended periods of time when these guys get aroused. I captured a recording but am not sure how to post.



Looking up from the park gives you a perspective on its elevation, natural beauty, and city beauty.



Here I captured the view down to our building. You can't actually see our apartment in this photo because we are on the 4th floor, but you can get a context for the neighborhood.



Schools in Hong Kong often are in session on Saturdays. I found myself accompanied by several different groups on my Saturday morning stroll.



And it wouldn't be a post on the zoo if I didn't get at least one photo of an animal in. All the cages are open wire mesh like this which makes for nice viewing.

Mapping It Out

My apologies for the oversized photos here, but I wanted to give the best resolution possible for those brave enough to try to pick out what building is what off of these two photos from the Peak.

Should we actually let anyone out of the country?

Sitting. Me. In a coffee shop. Minding my own business. Enter a later twenties, early thirties woman. And child. Caucasian. Likely American by her accent. Child around 2. Me working on some reading. Minding my own business. Woman stops one of the coffee shop employees. "Can you just take my order here? I've got the baby, and I don't want to leave her alone." Complete and total look of panic on employee's face. In comprehension? Surprised? Employee and me, respectively, yes.

I know that I can be a demanding American sometimes, but hey, I am also a midwesterner with a fair amount of manners. I move for people on the sidewalk much more so than I would need to. I am 6' 3" and yet I am the one moving when coming face to face with a 4' 8" elderly Chinese woman. But what does this have to do with this story? Let me get back to it.

Employee 1 leaves. A minute elapses. Enter employee 2. Questions of clarification with more comprehension. Order from seat. Child. OK. Take order. "OK. I want a tall, tall, tall [speaking for clarity] skim..." Employee 2 repeats accurately. "...no-sugar...caramel...latte...and I want only half and half...half decaf...and half regular. Oh, and could you make that not too hot - warm - but more than warm. You know, not too hot but more than warm. OK." Look of amazement. Employee 2 and me. Stuggle to look down I do. Employee 2 takes money and leaves.

Enter employee 3. Order? Repeat? Leave employee 3. Return employee 2. Coffee in hand. Change on table. Done? Enter manager 1. Repeat coffee order? So sorry. Mistake. Will replace. Exit manager 1. Enter employee 3. Coffee. In to-go cup now. Repeats order. Woman agrees. Thanks. Gets up. Leaves child unattended. Coffee cozy needed. Coffee is hot. Child wanders off, luckily after mother. Triumphant. Mother and child return.

I talked to this woman a little bit before I left the coffee shop. She seemed very nice. How was she the same woman that I had just seen create one of the biggest orchestrations ever to befit a coffee shop? What had made her turn into the demandabeast? I don't think she even realized she did it, but from the outside looking in, there she was. Ms. Entitlement. It was absurd, but unfortunately a little too common. I fear that there is a certain class of expatriot, the one that you most commonly think of, that can develop a real sense of right to things that by all means they really have no right for. A coffee in your seat, not to hot, or cold, or caffeinated, or sugared, or fattened by milk product. But this is but an easily identifiable case of an affliction that can strike any expatriot. You begin to expect that local markets should carry cucumbers that look like cucumbers did where you come from. The same for meat, fruits, etc.

I am glad to say that this situation turned out well, but I fear for all of the accumulate situations like this. We Americans abroad must be humble in our interactions for actions that point towards our ownership of the world and expect its adaptation to our needs do not come across well. It takes many positive experiences to overpower the memory of these negative ones. We each must be aware of the dangers of our own freedom to travel and accepting of the cultures and the people that shelter us while away from home.

To bird or not to bird?

Birds in Asia haven't exactly been getting the best rap lately, have they? Anybody read any scary stories? I've read plenty, and I am plenty scared. But with that said, let me say that I love birds. They can be beautiful and peaceful companions on a quiet morning or lazy afternoon. They remind us of our inabilities and the beauty of nature at the same time. To bird or not to bird, that was yesterday's question.

I chose to bird. Now, I am not talking about going down to the local market and picking up whatever fresh kill they had and have a little chicken tartar. No, I am talking about a walk through the Hong Kong Park Aviary. While it's very difficult to fully capture the impressive nature of this locale, I will try. The Aviary is located on the outskirts of Hong Kong Park, which itself lies in the middle of the city. It is the creation of an elaborate canopy of metal mesh and arching metal cables, all of which quietly and serenely create a bird sanctuary that meshes seamlessly with the surrounding park. Air and light flow in and out with no problem. Here are the views from above and outside of the Aviary:





You enter and exit the Aviary through an oddly sterile means, passing through an almost waterfall of plastic chains. This little boy was as fascinated by them as I was.



Inside you pass through the canopy on an elevated walkway that zigs and zags to provide cozy areas for viewing above and below.



And of course, there are the birds.





It's an impressive structure for its function and its architectural merits. It's a must see on a beautiful morning.

Turtles on a Rock

The sun came out today, and the inhabitants of Hong Kong seemed to be abandoning some instincts in favor of others. The people, like these turtles, lost all sense of hesitancy in their obsession with the sun, clamoring over each other for the best views and the sweetest experiences. We spent the whole day outside exploring the zoo, Hong Kong Park, and Lantau Island.

Our Phoenix

I know there has been intense interest in the status of Shrek. Those who know us know that we cannot keep plants alive (sorry about that, Glory), which is why I am convinced that Shrek really isn't alive. He's mythical. Like something Harry Potter would pick up at the corner wizarding store. He's a Phoenix if only by hair.

Is it a bad sign...

...when you can't feel your toes, the end of your nose, or parts of your thighs? It's cold, but not like a Chicago cold. It's a relentlessly persistent cold that is made worse because you think you are living in a tropical environment kind of cold. It's a cold where you start to doubt your sanity and where you begin to have an appreciation for all of those warm clothes drives that you haven't donated to but meant to kind of cold. Did I mention that I'm cold? Most Hong Kong apartments don't have central heat just like Minnesota apartments don't have central air. In theory, both environments exist far enough to the extremes of our earth's climates as to be safe from need of human technological intervention. Did I mention that I'm cold? I find myself stopping by the dehumidifier just to catch a little bit of the exhaust heat. Did I mention that I'm cold? I've been wearing so many socks a day that we've almost exhausted our supply. My max so far is three pairs. Did I mention that I'm cold? It's actually significantly warmer outside that it is inside. The buildings are made of concrete. All the walls. They just hold it all in. Yesterday I wore my winter jacket around the apartment all day and almost put on gloves. If I could type with gloves on I would have. Did I mention I'm cold?

Disco in Bed?

Do you know your neighbors? We don't. At least not yet. And we have about 20 times the number of neighbors now than we did in Parkville.

While that is fine, and amazingly, we have had very few disturbances from either above or below us, we have developed a fear of what could be. A neighbor we haven't seen but have seen ominous signs of. The signs have been many, drilling, buffing, and just all around working, that have led us to have a lingering fear that we are about to get a new neighbor - a night club.

The space that lies about 5 feet from our bedroom window has been under construction ever since we moved here, and actually since Eric looked at the apartment in November. It's a roof top, on the building next to ours. Someone appears to have taken a keen interest in this 4th floor locale, but for what purpose? Workman have come and gone. Old materials torn out and new shinier ones moved in. Statues and urns are in place. But what could it be?

Please help us in hoping this isn't what we fear...a restaurant...a disco...or something even worse. We've got Shrek on the lookout but there is only so much scaring off that a 4 inch tall Chia pet can do.



I know it doesn't look like much, but you can just barely see the top of a massive pool of some sort among the decorations.

A Sense of Speed

These pictures are taken from the top of the Peak and capture the Peak Tram every 5 seconds as it ascends.







It's no Audobon but when you are going up at an incline of about 30 degrees, you can really feel the pressure.

Oscars in Asia

It's Wednesday night and the Oscars are just now being broadcast here. It's a bizarre spectacle. We don't get the red carpet interviews from E! or the networks. Instead, we have a CNN Asia anchor, broadcasting from the studio, and cutting out to a correspondant on the red carpet who keeps getting rejected by the stars. I think that will be more entertaining than the Oscars.

Point, Nod, and Hope

While I am used to paying for a good haircut (a lesson from my dad), I decided a week or so ago that I wasn’t going to pay a hefty price for what I suspected would be a mediocre first cut no matter where I went. Skipping out on several trendy salons on our street that charged upwards of US$40 for a cut with extra costs if you wanted an “experienced” or “senior” stylist, I chose a smaller establishment about a 5 minutes walk from our apartment that was still in a trendy area but that offered a cut and shampoo for about US$17. I never chose a salon based on location in the US, but here, the fact that there was a cute lamp shop next door and several good restaurants, told me that this shop probably saw a lot of clientele that were similar to me.

Louie was a nice guy, about my age, and for all that I know, this could have been his first cut. The shop stood empty when I entered but then it’s a rainy afternoon in the middle of the week. Small talk is always something I’ve enjoyed when getting a cut. I usually take off my glasses, rendering myself blind, and immediately engage my barber in discussion, comforting my vulnerabilities in the belief that if I just keep talking that somehow I’ll come out looking better. Because really, it’s a situation out of my control but that I will have to live with for the next month.

When I realized that Louie knew very little English, I decided not to fight. So, it was flip, point, and hope. Glasses coming off, I succumbed to the realities and told Louie, “I trust you,” which seemed to be the only English words in our 30 minutes together that he understood, and I think appreciated. I became quiet, closed my eyes, and listened to buzz of the razor and the snip of the scissor. While I tried not to think, I did – over and over again. “I had dressed for the look I wanted – button-up shirt, belt, and jeans. All Louie has to do was to put the hair style in place.” Usually it’s better to use a simpler phrase for meditation, but this seemed to work.

Want to know what happened? Suffice it to say I didn’t bleed to death from a misplace scissor swipe. As for the cut, I’m not sure I could say if it’s good or bad. The experience was too much. I’m just relieved it’s done.

Yes, that's me wearing an apron and cooking dinner;-) Anyway, let me know what you think of my slightly pointy cut and whether I should go back to Louie and Peel Hair Workshop.

P.S. Eric swears that I look like Tin Tin. Comments are also welcome (but feared).

A Mix-up at the Hospital?

It's the subtle irony of Hong Kong streets that always gets me, and I think this postcard I got at a local shop captures one of those ironies well.



Chinese or Filipino women carry around white children. White women carry around Chinese babies. Cultural worlds collide and cross like no other time in history. This is but one very graphic illustration of a phenomenon that is happening in so many places.

A Lot of Pull

One of the most impressive things to do in Hong Kong is to go up to the "Peak." With it's place on top of the mountain above Hong Kong, it is the region's most popular tourist destination point. And how can you not love the Peak with views like this:



So Monday wasn't the most beautiful day in HK but this is pretty nice by recent standards. Last week they had to cancel something like 20 flights into Hong Kong because of smog-visibility problems. But I digress...

A short walk from our apartment and you first see the signs leading to the Peak in the form of these simple street signs that are all over Hong Kong:



You wouldn't expect the signs to lead to the basement of a building, but they do. That's where the Peak Tram begins it's long climb up the mountain. The Tram, which is literally pulled up the mountained and lowered upon return, sets the stage for your Peak adventure. Quickly you realize that this isn't going to be a normal transit. You sit in wooden benches fashioned less for comfort than for stability and walk up an isle that is not flat, not even tredded, but divoted to provide extra footing for passengers that must stand for the journey. In the span of about 10 minutes you rush past apartment buildings, green space, and skyscrapers.



Above, the tram slows for its entrance into the ground station. More to come on the Peak this week...