01.17.03
And now, the Hong Kong journey resumes.
So after Bob came out and told us the room number, me and Dan waited outside for a few minutes then followed him up. He met us in the hall and said, "It's bad." No lie. Apparently, somebody at Ramada Kowloon thought it would be a funny joke to stuff a bed and a TV into a closet and call it a single room. There was barely room for three of us and in a few days Mark would be joining us as well. Ready for the punch-line? Bob was sick and Dan was getting that way quick. And now I was sleeping in close quarters with both of them for the next 5 days. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Fortunately for Bob, his girlfriend, Wendy, had lived in Hong Kong for a while and was visiting her family at the same time. So not only did he get to see her, depending on her schedule, we had our own personal interpreter and guide. Sweeeeet. We were all invited to join her family for Dim Sum the following morning and since Dim Sum just about rocks the world we all quickly said, "Yeah, man. Dat's coo.' "
Now allow me to offer an observation and pose a question to someone that might know what the deal is. During many meals in Hong Kong, I came across chicken with bones in it. I know what you're thinking, "Bite off the meat, throw away the bone and quit yer bitchin', sissy-boy," right? The thing is, this isn't like bones at Kentucky Fried or anything, these are like huge, mammoth chunks of like, wing-assembly and joint bones and shit, where the meat is over it, in cracks and generally just not possible to get off the bone without ruining your dining experience (at least mine anyway). The worst part is, is that they just look like nice, clean chunks of meat that invite you to sink your teeth into, and then you wonder why you're screaming in agony and embarrassing all your friends in front of the nice Chinese people. I just don't get it. Anyone else more hip on the China scene care to fill me in on the Chicken-bone thing?
So for those that don't know, there's more or less two parts to Hong Kong; The island side, which has all the tall buildings and what you usually see pictures of when you see pictures of Hong Kong, and the mainland side which is called Kowloon and is where we started our stay. The Kowloon landscape struck me as very... Chinese, I guess. I mean, it seemed like the kind of place where lots of images of urban China (or Hong Kong anyway) come from. You've got the crowded streets, neon signs at every level hanging everywhere, old buildings, street vendors, a thin layer of grime over everything. You know, just like any movie in Hong Kong that you've ever seen. Speaking of, the topless bar that James Bond went to in The Man With the Golden Gun, Bottoms Up was only a few minute walk from our hotel. Sadly, everything we heard about it was bad, so we never actually went. Which is fine since I left my PPK in Fukuma anyway.
(As an aside, I heard that the film Ghost in the Shell was supposed to be set in a futuristic Hong Kong and now that I've seen it first hand, I can back that up. If you want to get a good feeling of what Kowloon looks like, you might want to take a look at this movie.)
The really odd thing, that I never really got used to seeing was the scaffolding. You know how when there's repair or construction on a building, there will be, what is usually, metal pipe scaffolds, put up around the structure. Well, in Hong Kong 98% of the scaffolds I saw were, are you ready for this, bamboo. Like even 40+ story buildings would just have a network of bamboo poles tied together at the joints with rubber rope, covering them. That just seems like someone is asking for trouble, but it apparently works considering how many buildings were cocooned in the stuff. Wild.
That evening, we were again invited to dine with Wendy's family for dinner, this time for Korean-style barbecue (which is basically the same thing as yakiniku in Japan). Yummy. We met on the island at Times Square where this genius bit of photography took place. Please take note of the sign that's between me and Dan. Nice one, mate. Nice one.
By this point in the day, Bob was feeling about 98.76% ass, so he greeted everyone then went home. Wendy's family is cool though and they still wanted at least me and Dan to come along and since I was hungry enough to the point that I was ready to eat one of Dan's hands, I wasn't going to be turning anyone talking about food down.
Wendy's family is pretty cool. They all grew up in South Africa, so everyone spoke English thankfully for me and Dan. It was fun watching a Chinese family in action, it's so contrary to what I see in Japan on a daily basis. I mean, I'm sitting at the table all stressing about all the customs I probably don't know about, such as the chopstick issue.
There's lots of chopstick etiquette in Japan that I always make sure to pay attention to, especially when I'm out with strangers who are treating me to dinner. One rule of thumb in Japan is that you generally don't use your own chopsticks to take food from communal plates. You either use the thick end of the chopsticks, (the end that you don't put in your mouth) or there will be a special set that goes with each plate expressly for dishing stuff out.
So Wendy's sister looks at me and asks what I'm waiting for and I tell her I just wanted to make sure about any etiquette I may not be aware of, such as taking food from communal plates with my chopsticks. Their Uncle chimed in and said, "In Chinese families, everyone knows each other and is familiar. Only strangers don't use their own. So don't worry about it and stop being a stranger." How fucking cool, eh?
And man, these chicks were loud and opinionated. They're all fighting back and forth in loud voices, not pulling any punches, even taking shots at the older sister's boyfriend who was there with us, all the while having a great time doing it. Not that I resent Japan and it's politeness and respect, but just being around this kind of really honest atmosphere where everyone says exactly what they think and no one gets upset by it, was really refreshing.
Unfortunately I dropped my digital camera that evening (for the third time on this trip, I might add) and that was that. It stopped working as of that evening. Pissed off, was I.
We got back to the hotel and entered the lilliputian room(Look! Look! I'm being literary!!) just as Bob filled an entire tissue with yellow snot, which he then holds up to me and Dan and says, "You see this, Ebeneezer? This is your fucking future."
Best line by anyone on the entire trip.
I got one more entry in me and this whole thing should be wrapped up. Check back tomorrow for:
The Stunning Conclusion, in which.... do I really need to say it?
01.16.03
Wow, it actually snowed in Fukuma yesterday. I mean really snowed. The flakes were the size of my head. No, wait. I'm calling bullshit on myself on that one. They were about the size of Cheeze-Its though, which is pretty unusual around here I'm told. I guess they're usually only about the size of Goldfish crackers. The only thing that sucked was riding my bike through it in the morning. I swear, if I stay here another year, I'm getting my license and buying a car... or a scooter. Scooter would be cool too.
Anyway, I got distracted yesterday and today so I haven't written anything about Hong Kong. Damnable Gamecube.
In other news, long-time readers will remember the class activity I did when I handed out bizarre pictures to the class and had them make up a few sentences describing what was happening in, preferrably, a funny story. Well, I tried it again yesterday and was pretty impressed with what one group in particular came up with. Here's the picture along with their explanation of events.
"The helicopter is United States. They are helping the man who is Japan from North Korea's shark."
Okay, the English isn't jaw-dropping or anything, but how impressed am I that freaking Jr. High students are looking at a picture like this and drawing parallels to current geopolitical crises. I don't remember exactly what I was thinking about when I was 14, but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve anything unrelated to Star Trek.
It also just goes to show that while everyone worries about North Korea's nuclear plans, they're totally overlooking their deadly program of lethal Space Sharks.
Anyway, thought it was interesting and wanted to share. Be back tomorrow with more Hong Kong stories. Toodle-pip.
01.14.03
Right, so where were we? Ah yes, the plane landed. I was to meet Dan and Bob at the internet cafe in the airport since our planes landed within 20 minutes of each other. Brief Interlude - For those that don't know them, Dan and Bob are brothers and my very good friends from years back, many years back actually, like all the way back when Bob's voice was still indistinguishable from that of a little girl (I told you I'd have my revenge for the Tokyo Station debacle). This is a picture of Dan and Bob when they visited me in Japan in December. There, happy? Can I get back to the story now please?
So we were to meet at the internet cafe in the airport. Imagine my surprise to find that there are, in fact, two internet cafes in Hong Kong airport. Beyond that, they're not exactly close to one another, like about five minutes away from each other. They could have been farther apart I guess, but when you're hauling around a pack as heavy as mine was, five minutes gets old real quick.
So I sat down at one of them and waited for about 15 minutes past when we were supposed to meet at which point I figured I must be at the wrong one. So I loaded up the backpack and hiked over to the other internet cafe to find, of course, nothing. I decided to make good use of the time and check my mail. Waiting for me was a mail from Bob, telling me that he had arrived and was waiting... in the other internet cafe. See what I mean? He had time to sit down, log in and write a mail in the time it took me to walk from one end to the other. I remounted my infernal backpack and hiked back to the other end of the airport again and finally found Bob. Dan was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Dan?"
"He went to the other cafe to see if you were there."
WTF??? How did we miss each other is my question. I mean, we had to have passed within five feet of each other since there is a direct line of sight from one cafe to the other (much in the same way that there is a direct line of sight from Earth to Alpha Centurai). Since I was just about sick of walking back and forth between cafes, and since Bob is just lazy (you know it's true, Bob) we decided to just sit in the huge cushy chairs and watch CNN until Dan came back. I probably don't even have to say this, but you know as well as I do that he didn't.
So I got up and walked to the other cafe again found Dan sitting in that cafe's huge cushy chairs and watching the same CNN that Bob and I had been watching before I set out on my 3rd trek across the airport. He asked if I had seen the story that was on a few minutes ago about the high-tech, safety tabel-saws. I don't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure my response somehow involved him and the act of eating of my poo. Then we walked all the way back to the other cafe and found Bob and all was well. I think this day topped any other on the trip in terms of calories burned.
On our way out, we kept seeing these funny signs posted everywhere and couldn't quite figure out what they meant. At first glance, I thought it was indicating a fire exit. But honestly the more I look at it, the less it looks like fire. I then offered the idea that if you're about to be smothered by a tidal wave you should run in the opposite direction as indicated by the arrow. Bob thought it was directing anyone who's being chased by giant knives to the nearest safe haven. Dan thought we were both stupid. We were never able to reach a consensus so I'm leaving it to you all to cast your vote and tell the citizens of the world what to do should they find themselves in Hong Kong airport and viewing these signs. After all, if the majority believes it to be true, it must be true, right? (Yes, that was sarcasm, don't send me mail telling me why I'm wrong.)
We hopped the airport tram into town which was totally cool. The thing just hauled ass and was dead silent, but the coolest part was the personal TV screen on the back of every headrest. You could change channels and they even had Tom and Jerry. Way cool! Once we got to Kowloon however, we weren't entirely sure where our hotel was so we hopped into a cab and told the driver we needed to be at the Ramada.
Now, I don't know how many of you have been to Hong Kong, or have ridden in a taxi in Hong Kong, but these cab drivers are goddamn certifiable. The three of us formulated a theory (one of Dan's favorite pastimes, to Bob's chagrin, is constantly crafting and championing his own theories on life and the world), that in any traffic instance when it would be prudent to use the brakes, Hong Kong cab drivers find it equally acceptable to just use the horn instead so as not to waste all the energy moving your foot from one pedal to the other.
We were flying through Kowloon and were like, "Hey, buddy. Slow it down!!"
The driver shouted back, "Hey, Dr. Jones! No time for love!!"
We were like, "......what?"
and he was like, "Uh, nuthin."
Dude, I'm so good at telling a story.
We eventually found our way to the Ramada and rolled out of the cab before it resumed warp speed. With our backpacks on our backs (honestly, where else would they be?) we started stepping to the entrance and the front desk and our nice warm room with nice comfy beds. After a night of freezing my tender balls off outside of Tokyo Station and then about two hours of restless sleep in a coach class airline seat, I could hear the sweetness of our room calling me for a nap from the taxi stand. Upon noticing that me and Dan were following however, Bob turned and said, "Right, so you guys wait here while I check in."
"Lemme guess..." I said, putting it all together.
Bob finished my thought, "They probably wouldn't appreciate that we're packing three people into a single."
The words echoed off the concrete overhang, "three people into a single... three people into a single... three people into a single."
Surprises are fun, ain't they?
Next time: The Entering of the Room, in which the room....is, you know... entered.
01.13.03
Right, so some people aren't aware that my hair color has changed yet again. It's now black and I'm pretty damn fond of it, if I do say so myself. Here's a none-too-flattering picture for those that think I'm fabricating my own personal reality again. (Hmmmm, I just realized, that means I should make a new photo for the About Me section. Time to break out the lightsaber again.)
Now that that's over with, Happy New Year to everyone. I hope everyone had a great holiday season with an appropriately painful hangover to ring in the next trip around our favorite little Ball o' Fusion. Mine was actually spent waiting for a crosswalk signal to change in downtown Hong Kong while me, Bob and Wendy tried to find the huge street party that we could hear everyone at a few hundred feet away. It wasn't until we actually got to said festivities that we realized that the reason all the cars were honking their horns back at the crosswalk is because New Year's had passed about four minutes ago. We celebrated with, "Oh. Well, uhhhh.... Happy New Year, I guess."
Regarding to the trip to Hong Kong, I can sum it up in the following words: Hong... Kong... kicks... ass! The trip on the whole was pretty good, so I guess I'll just start at the beginning and spread it out over the week.
Bob (more on him later) booked my tickets for me since we were pretty sure that we could get them cheaper from the US than from any of the corrupt, bastard travel cartels...oop, I mean agencies... no, I mean cartels, which are about the only way to get a ticket anywhere here in Japan. They work this way: they buy every ticket on every flight they can, then refuse to sell it to you unless you sign up for one of their fascist, hysteria-infused tourist packages that insist on cramming every last second of your vacation full of what they think would be fun. I'm surprised that none of them have coined the motto "Hurry up and have fun!!" for their company.
Anyway, Bob did get me a cheaper ticket, bless his soul. But, he booked it out of Tokyo, damn him to hell. Being that I was leaving two days before the biggest holiday on the Japanese calendar (that's New Year's, by the way) there were no domestic flights left to Tokyo so I had to take the bullet train up to Tokyo, which is about a $500 round-trip proposition, so my "cheaper" ticket wasn't really helping me much any more. Ah, but who cares, I'm not hurting for cash and it's not like I wasn't going to go to Hong Kong at this point to ring in the New Year with my boys. So off I went.
I got to Tokyo Station around 11pm which brought me into town with plenty of time to spare before my 9:30am flight the next morning. As it happens, 11pm is the time of day that happens almost immediately after the last train to the airport has left. Hooray, a night in Tokyo Station. No wait, it gets better.
I found a waiting area downstairs near the subway and recharged my iPod in a wall outlet while feeding my head with a Carl Sagan book. I ran into a girl from New Jersey who was also waiting for the first train to whisk her away to an Army base up North where her boyfriend was waiting for her. At the time I sat down, she was being incessantly chattered at by some homeless looking guy who didn't seem to care that the Japanese ability she had wasn't enough to either grasp nor care about whatever it was he was talking about.
Around 1am a station cop came around and announced that they were closing the station and we needed to get out. I told him that bad jokes weren't appreciated in my culture and he replied that uppity vagrants weren't appreciated in his. I then promptly asked where the exit was.
When packing for the trip, the weather in Hong Kong seemed pretty warm according to Yahoo! Weather, in the 50's and 60's so I didn't bother to pack nor wear anything more than undershirts and button shirts. So when we got outside, I was not happy to find that it was dead-of-winter cold in Tokyo these days. Amanda from New Jersey huddled up in her coat, scarf and gloves and I put on an extra shirt. I went to find some food and a warm place to sit for an hour and when I came back she was talking to some Japanese guy named Ryutaro. He was about as well prepared as I was for being ousted by Five-0 so while Amanda sat on her suitcase and chilled out to her walkman, Ryutaro and I did the pee-pee dance to keep warm, even though we didn't really need to pee-pee.
Eventually Ryutaro went to a nearby 7-11 and came back with, bless his heart, little heat packs for all of us. I shook that little bad boy up and jammed it in my pocket (the heat pack, not Ryutaro) and was good for the remaining time until the doors opened, releasing the light and warmth of heaven (a.k.a. Tokyo-eki) upon us. 4 1/2 hours in the freezing cold. You'll pay for that, Bob. Mark my words.
After that, it was short work to get to the airport find my plane and we were off. The in-flight movie was M. Night Shyamalan's Signs. I really like this guy but this movie pissed me off. I mean, it was well written and really creepy, but the way the whole faith thing was handled really pissed me off. It might have had something to do with the book I'm reading now, but let me see if I got the movie's moral straight; when something doesn't go your way, it's not God's fault, but when something does go your way, all praise be unto Him. Gee, that's a pretty good deal for God. Get it right and people think you're awesome, fuck up and they're willing to blame it on chance. Sounds to me like this is just supporting superstition and doublethink but again, perhaps I was biased. In any case, Shyamalan has Unbreakable under his belt, so he still kicks ass in my book.
After the movie, the plane landed.
Next Time: The Landing, in which the plane.... well... lands.
