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...