HONG KONG 2007: Queuing, Kids, and Gambling on Dinner

Macau is an old Portuguese colony given over to China in a similar way the British gave over Hong Kong. Macau is also a mecca of gambling with casino construction about as far as the eye could see.* For an in-depth article about Macau and all this gambling read James Fallows' excellent article from The Atlantic.**

Macau is about an hour speed-ferry ride from HK. Sister Anne worked on Macau and was heading back so Aunt Helen and some of the other nuns decided to bring me along to see it. Other than the cool town center, which was a remnant of Portuguese rule, and the Temple of AH-MA all I remember of Macau was gaudy casinos and loads of construction. The temples are more out of control on Macau than in HK. The incense sticks were bigger, the smoke thicker, the people noisier (or more devout?), and the animal sacrifices greater. There was one annoying experience, one touching experience, and one funny experience all worth recounting from that day in Macau.

You need to show your passport to get into Macau but not if you are a HK resident. All the nuns were either residents of HK or Macau and breezed easily out of the customs area from the ferry arrival terminal. I was stuck in the terminal with hundreds of mainland Chinese who also had to show passports.*** Evidently, this was before the Chinese government started etiquette classes on proper queuing for their citizens in the run-up to the Olympics. I was stuck in the middle of a mass of humanity just shoving and pushing in every direction. This sea of people swept me to and fro, the jostling as bad as the bumpy ride on the speed-ferry. I just went with it trying to keep moving forward to the five feet of metal rails that constituted actual delineation before reaching the customs officer. Once somebody in front of me stepped on a discarded puke bag from the ferry. This popped open the bag emitting a viscous substance and an ungodly odor. I promptly stepped in it and could hardly hold back my own vomit. Thankfully, the pushing and the shoving drove me away from that area quickly (and dissipated any residue on my sneaker.) After an hour of this I finally made it through and met the nuns, who had the temerity to ask what took me so long.

So I am in Macau. The Temple of AH-MA. St. Paul’s façade. St. Dominic’s church. Some bones of Japanese martyrs. A couple of museums. Some gaudy casinos. Sightseeing out of the way. I venture along with Aunt Helen, Sister Ann Marie, Sister Susan, and Sister Anne to the Macau Social Center where they work. This is an area of town close to the border with China and out of the way from the casinos. Mainly poorer people in this part and the Center provides services for children. The Sisters ask me if I wouldn’t mind dropping in on the kids, as they don’t really see any Westerners other than the nuns. The kids are in an art class and considering their ages, probably from 6 years old to 10 years, old they can all draw spectacularly well. I am pointed out and then stared at with wonder. They are all wearing sports jerseys of American basketball teams or irregular t-shirts**** One little boy asks me “How are you?” Other children giggle. I answer “Fine. How are you?” To which many voices answer “Fine. How are you?” Ignoring the second part of the their response and thinking they may know English I ask about their drawings eliciting only blank faces. Apparently, they don’t know English but do know how to answer “Fine. How are you?” I spent some time laughing with them and playing a bit and looking at their drawings. It was nice.

Then we went to dinner. I forget which casino we had dinner. Maybe the Wynn. Anyway, it was an upscale restaurant within. Aunt Helen knew some vice president of the casino and managed to get us hooked up with a nice meal.***** Or so she thought. This VP never materialized; he was actually supposed to sup with us. Meanwhile, the nuns are ordering whatever they want and even partaking in a glass of nice wine. Good for them. I do the same. Now seconds becomes dessert and still no VP. The nuns begin to panic a bit. Whereas there were little jokes directed to Aunt Helen about “doing the dishes” and such, the tone now became more serious. Aunt Helen, in a near panic, keeps asking the waitress or the maitre d’ to try and find this guy. Every few minutes she is hounding some employee to track him down. The rest of the nuns visibly worry about how to pay for this meal. As calmly as I could I mention that no problem exists, I’ll put it on my credit card and, really, there is no need to worry. This does nothing to squash the sense of palpable despair coming from the nuns. Finally, Aunt Helen gets him on the horn and he apologizes for not being able to make it and gives the word that, of course, the meal is on the casino. Disaster averted. Whew! I don’t think dessert was enjoyed by anyone but me.

So that’s Macau. Photos following my addendums.

*No actual gambling occurred at any Macau casinos. In fact on my quick, brief walk through two ultra-gaudy casinos I didn’t even recognize the table games. If I saw a blackjack table and thought I could extricate myself from the nuns I may have played a little bit.

**For any Sinophiles reading, I suggest James Fallows' blog at The Atlantic website for an always interesting perspective on China.

***A funny quip from Aunt Helen that I heard numerous times during my week stay: “No Hong Kong resident has committed a crime since 1999.” This implied that all crimes and other annoyances were caused by visitors from mainland China.

****I was told that many poor people here get irregular clothes from the multitude of factories in China. When a mistake is made on a batch and they can’t sell it in a western country they place them for sale or give them away in some of the poorer regions. It is doubtful that most of them know what their shirts say. I saw a bunch of shirts festooned with sexual innuendo on very young girls.

*****Aunt Helen knows a lot of people in Hong Kong. She also knows a lot of well off people though charity work she performs. Later on in the trip a priest friend of hers asked what we had been doing and after I mentioned some of the fine dining establishments and places I have been with some of Aunt Helen’s friends he declared, “Oh, Helen is introducing you to all her la-de-da friends.”

Aunt Helen in the quaint town center of Macau





St. Paul's facade




Macau. Lots of casinos. Note the then under construction Lotus casino on the top left. Photo taken from up high in St. Paul's facade.



Temple of AH-MA





At the old Macau-China border. Me and Aunt Helen. The nuns.

HONG KONG 2007: Arrival

It is Sunday night, August 19, 2007. It is 10:14 PM. I am sitting in a hotel room in Hong Kong. The hot water is running in the shower, ostensibly to straighten out wrinkled clothes. I am told that there is a lunch appointment at a posh Hong Kong location that I am expected to attend. Shirt, tie and possibly a jacket are required. Before I left NYC, I reluctantly placed these items into my large backpack ruing the space they take up. Feeling the humid summer heat of Hong Kong in the evening I realized that the jacket will never, under any circumstances, be worn by me. (Even having had strong thoughts about this I still may have ended up wearing it. I forget but I don’t think I did.)*

It’s over 24 hours since I left NYC. I spent about thirteen of those in the air on the non-stop flight. The rest was the time difference, which sped me 12 hours into the future. I actually like getting into a new place at night after a long plane ride. Since I do not sleep well on planes it allows me to go directly to sleep. Usually after a good first night’s rest jet lag is minimal. By chance, if I don’t arrive to a far-away location at night I try to stay up as late as possible and get a good night sleep and start the next day off on local time. If jet lag isn’t minimal and lasts a few days I usually just get very drunk. This makes me sleep and I am better at dealing with a hangover, due to its more common occurrence, than jet lag. Timing of sleep, drunkenness or a combination of both is my jetlag remedy. Remember that for your future travels.

My Aunt Helen met me at the airport with a friend, Jean. We took a taxi into Hong Kong and then I think into Kowloon. If I remember correctly Hong Kong and Kowloon are on opposite sides of the harbor. I think my hotel was in Kowloon. Aunt Helen seemed especially pleased to see me. What a nice way to end a long plane ride. She was very happy for a visitor and looked forward to showing me around and playing tour guide. I have told many relatives of how gracious a host Aunt Helen is and implored them to go to HK soon based upon my experiences.

Awaiting me in my hotel room was a gift basket set up by Aunt Helen. It included some toiletries, some American snacks such as cookies and chocolate, and a book entitled “The Story of Hong Kong.” It was really too much but well appreciated by me. Aunt Helen told me that the snacks and chocolate were for when I wanted American food that may not be readily available in HK or Japan. I was only going to be away from America for 11 days and thought I could make it without such comforts. For the most part I did do without those familiar items but I did eat all that was in the gift basket during my trip.


Aunt Helen hooked me up with a nice room in a hotel run by the hospital where she works. I forget the price, maybe $75 USD/night, but it was a great bargain. It was clean and spacious.**

It didn’t have a great view but decent and I overlooked a red-tiled church. (Note the bamboo scaffolding used for construction.)

I unpacked my stuff, as I would be staying here for a week. I showered to wash the travel off of me. Which brings us to 10:14 PM, writing in my journal and steaming wrinkled clothes. As the final words in my first journal entry states: Sleep Now***.


*I did have a suit made for me by a Hong Kong tailor. I wore that jacket but just in the act of trying it on for size.

**The photo of the hotel room displays the aftermath of my sleeping in a hotel bed procedure. I remove the bedspread and untuck all covers. I can't stand how tight a hotel bed is made and I don't trust the cleanliness of bed spreads. This goes for all hotels - America or abroad.

***Underlining of those words in original journal entry. Bold added for the blog.

HONG KONG 2007: Cathay Pacific

Cathay Pacific is the best airline I’ve been on. For the past three years I have been taking it to Vancouver while on the way to Whistler for snowboarding. So counting back from 2009 I guess I flew it in winter 2007 which would have been before this Hong Kong/Japan summer 2007 trip. This wasn’t my first trip with Cathay but like all others it was a gratifying experience.

I had non-stop to Hong Kong from JFK. During this flight I watched two movies, read an entire novel, and slept about an hour. And it didn’t seem long or boring or stressful at all.
Cathay Pacific has decent food, attentive and pretty stewardesses, and loads of movie options for your viewing pleasure. One of the movies I watched, Fracture, I have noted in my journal as “excellent.” Which is interesting for a few reasons. One is that other than knowing Anthony Hopkins and Ryan Gosling star, I don’t remember anything about it. Second, as could be seen during the Colbinski Chronicles 2008 Movie Roundtable Spectacular I usually really hate movies I watch on a plane. Something about the whole experience – small screen, never-ending distractions, and constant background noise – turns me negative. Not only do I always watch movies on a plane, I actually look forward to watching movies on a plane then never enjoy it as much as I probably should.* Movie watching on a plane may be a microcosm of my life in that respect.

The other movie I watched was a Japanese comedy called Bubble or Bust. It was about a plucky heroine who, after being sent back in time through a washing machine, fixes something or another in the past, learns reasons behind past hurt, and saves the future. Pretty much like any mediocre time travel movie except she was covered in suds from the washing machine. Well, actually she rinsed off fairly quickly and was sans suds most of the movie. I just wanted to highlight the fact that time travel was accomplished through a washing machine. It was a broad comedy, which is good watching on an airplane. If I was a young Japanese professional ensconced in Japanese pop culture and living a frivolous lifestyle with gobs of disposable Yen in 1980’s Tokyo I am sure I would have gotten jokes that I otherwise missed. The broadness of the comedy and the allure of the lead actress made it all OK. Give an extra half a star for the cleverness of the title.

The novel I read was Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. A slender novel, to be sure, but it prevented me from sleeping as the more I read the more I had to keep reading. I am an unabashed Murakami fan and this book had me hooked. Looking back I wish I had not read it all in one sitting. I would have rather been able to reflect upon it and let what was happening simmer a bit. I do remember thinking as I read it and after finishing, while the plane landed, that in Murakami’s stories females are the real voice of the story and those characters become so easy to fall in love with and it becomes simple to see why his protagonists usually do as well. (These thoughts still resonate with me but somewhat differently after an encounter with a Japanese woman at a sake bar in Tokyo, later during this trip, who had a differing opinion concerning how Murakami presents females in his stories.) Norwegian Wood is on my list of books to revisit and after writing about it I may place it on top of the list.

The book and the movies certainly helped time go by on the trip. I was unsure how I would be sitting on a plane for over 12 hours but it wasn’t terrible and it was uneventful. The plane wasn’t full and I was sharing the four-seat middle section with a woman who lived in Virginia. She was going to visit her son who lived in HK with his father and then she was going to Thailand for a vacation for just the two of them. We had a pleasant conversation over dinner and a glass of wine. She looked really happy to be seeing her son and looking forward to their time together. It was nice. Then she slept while I watched movies and/or read Murakami.

Then the plane landed. My Aunt Helen, who has lived in HK for my entire life, was at the airport to pick me up and guide me to the hotel.

*I once watched Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein while flying on a domestic cross-country flight on my laptop. They were great and sitting on a plane did nothing to take away from that viewing experience.

RETRO TRAVELOGUE

UPDATED BELOW

It’s been quite a while since I have blogged. Time just got away from me. After all the Ethiopian blogging I knew I would not be able to continue that pace as I returned to school. But then I finished up with my coursework in December and I thought, for sure, that I would resume blogging with a forcefulness heretofore unknown. For various reasons, mostly doing with personal laziness, it never happened. Other than the 2008 Movie Roundtable Spectacular and a few posts emphasizing the virtues of the original Planet of the Apes movies I have been AWOL. Irreconcilably AWOL.

I would like to use a recent move, from the west village to the east village, as an excuse for my slothfulness but that won’t hold water or pass muster. The move may yet have a positive effect on my blogging. (Not to mention that my current living situation should provide me with many entertaining anecdotes.) In the course of rummaging through items, to determine whether to discard or pack, I unearthed journals I kept during previous travels. These are handwritten entries either in an actual journal, a notepad, or just scraps of paper that highlight what I did, adventures I had, and thoughts and ruminations on past vacations. These are nothing like the three months I spent in Ethiopia except that the locales, the customs, and the peoples were all new to me. (So I guess it was like Ethiopia but shorter and I felt more like a visitor rather than I was living there.)

I look forward rereading my journal entries and transforming them into blog posts. I’ll be able to relive my experiences with the added benefit of hindsight and, of course, incorporating a dash of my usual pizzazz into these now electronic posts. I will begin with my 2007 trip to Hong Kong and Japan.* If this goes well and I keep it up I’ll continue with my previous trips to Europe in 2003 and 2001. Hmmm, I guess I didn’t go anywhere for four years.

*UPDATE*I did two blog posts about Japan here and here. This will just be catching up on everything that happened around these two incidents.