In one of Beijing's hutongs, neighborhoods formed by old courtyard homes.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
The train to Beijing West Station
The train ride here was amazingly comfortable. The following is an entry from my Moleskin travel log last Friday.
Yesterday, spent the first two or so hours starring out the window in front of my cabin. When I first stepped on the train, I had trouble opening the door. I thought I may have been doing something wrong. I struggled for more than five minutes until I jerked it opened. I sat down and made myself comfortable with the pillows. Soon afterwards, an old Chinese man entered. He must have been in his 60's. Damn, there goes the idea that I'd have a room all to myself, though, he turned out to be very gentlemanly. We waited until the train departed before we proceded to ask if we could change our rooms for the rest of the coach was empty.
I went out to ask one of the train attendants, "Duibuqi, women ke bu keyi huan fangzi."
She looked at me coldly and in Chinese she said, "You can't just jump around to where ever you please!" and walked off.
I went back to my room disappointed. My cabin mate got up and said, "Wait here, I'll talk to her."
He came back a few minutes later. "Go ahead, you wanna change your room?"
This, I came to realize later, is how most things are accomplished in China. It really depends on who does the talking.
So anyway, I got my stuff together and headed for the room next door. The first few hours of the trip was spent looking out the window in front of my room. I was so completely fixated to the scenery change from urban highrise apartments to undeveloped country side. I finally retreated to my room and lay down. We pulled into a train station and suddenly everything went dark. I tried the lights, all four of them. None worked. I thought I should see what was up so I went for the door. It wouldn't budge. "What the hell! How do you open this thing?!" I could hear people passing by. Chinese announcements were going on outside. I pulled on that lever with everything I had but to no avail. I clinked with every part of the door, even resorted to pulling a credit card out to try to break my way out of my own room, all the while getting more and more terrified by the minute. It was dark, cold, quiet, and the f$%#n door wouldn't open. There was no way to open the window. I was trapped. Thoughts started running through my head. "What if we have to change trains? They won't find me because I've changed rooms. I can't call for help because my cell phone doesn't work in this country. What am I going to do? I'm going to end up in Inner Mongolia before someone gets to me." I started furiously racking on the door and the wall that I shared with my former roommate. I was just about to lose it when an attendant came by and opened the door in a quick click. I must have looked like a mad woman when he found me. I explained that couldn't get out so he showed me. I simply had to push this nail like button while pulling on the handle. Oooooh. Why do they not have directions on these things? A few minutes later, the lights went on and the train started to move.
The food was edible but really expensive and salty as ocean water. All I ate were lunch boxes and bananas the whole trip.
The train attendants smoked. I realized this as I was reading on my bed and noticed that my sinuses were beginning to get congested. I thought I detected a faint scent of smoke so I went out to check if it was the old guy next door. I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and as I walk by the attendant's cabin I saw a woman and a man taking a drag. I went back to my cabin, picked up the "No Smoking" sign from my table and showed it to them. They were very apologetic but as I also later found out, China, especially Beijing, is one big ashtray.
Yesterday, spent the first two or so hours starring out the window in front of my cabin. When I first stepped on the train, I had trouble opening the door. I thought I may have been doing something wrong. I struggled for more than five minutes until I jerked it opened. I sat down and made myself comfortable with the pillows. Soon afterwards, an old Chinese man entered. He must have been in his 60's. Damn, there goes the idea that I'd have a room all to myself, though, he turned out to be very gentlemanly. We waited until the train departed before we proceded to ask if we could change our rooms for the rest of the coach was empty.
I went out to ask one of the train attendants, "Duibuqi, women ke bu keyi huan fangzi."
She looked at me coldly and in Chinese she said, "You can't just jump around to where ever you please!" and walked off.
I went back to my room disappointed. My cabin mate got up and said, "Wait here, I'll talk to her."
He came back a few minutes later. "Go ahead, you wanna change your room?"
This, I came to realize later, is how most things are accomplished in China. It really depends on who does the talking.
So anyway, I got my stuff together and headed for the room next door. The first few hours of the trip was spent looking out the window in front of my room. I was so completely fixated to the scenery change from urban highrise apartments to undeveloped country side. I finally retreated to my room and lay down. We pulled into a train station and suddenly everything went dark. I tried the lights, all four of them. None worked. I thought I should see what was up so I went for the door. It wouldn't budge. "What the hell! How do you open this thing?!" I could hear people passing by. Chinese announcements were going on outside. I pulled on that lever with everything I had but to no avail. I clinked with every part of the door, even resorted to pulling a credit card out to try to break my way out of my own room, all the while getting more and more terrified by the minute. It was dark, cold, quiet, and the f$%#n door wouldn't open. There was no way to open the window. I was trapped. Thoughts started running through my head. "What if we have to change trains? They won't find me because I've changed rooms. I can't call for help because my cell phone doesn't work in this country. What am I going to do? I'm going to end up in Inner Mongolia before someone gets to me." I started furiously racking on the door and the wall that I shared with my former roommate. I was just about to lose it when an attendant came by and opened the door in a quick click. I must have looked like a mad woman when he found me. I explained that couldn't get out so he showed me. I simply had to push this nail like button while pulling on the handle. Oooooh. Why do they not have directions on these things? A few minutes later, the lights went on and the train started to move.
The food was edible but really expensive and salty as ocean water. All I ate were lunch boxes and bananas the whole trip.
The train attendants smoked. I realized this as I was reading on my bed and noticed that my sinuses were beginning to get congested. I thought I detected a faint scent of smoke so I went out to check if it was the old guy next door. I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and as I walk by the attendant's cabin I saw a woman and a man taking a drag. I went back to my cabin, picked up the "No Smoking" sign from my table and showed it to them. They were very apologetic but as I also later found out, China, especially Beijing, is one big ashtray.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Just coasting
I signed a contract with a school last week but there's still no guarantee that I'll be working any time soon because I still have to wait for my working visa to be processed which takes at least a month. In addition to all the stuff that I have to submit there is triple the amount of paperwork that the sponsoring company has to supply. The immigration office needs records of audited financial records and proof that the school tried to hire local residents by providing copies of ads in the newspaper and information about the different people who applied for the job. They need to know whether a new position is opening or if I'm to replace someone else and then if so where this person I'm replacing will go. The list just goes on and on.
I shouldn't really be complaining though. I had only been looking for a job for a week and then I got several offers.
I was telling this to Brenda, Uncle Nai's servant, and she replied, "So, it's not so difficult for you." "Really, but I had to cross the island to do interviews every day."
"Yes, but Filipinos can only stay in Hong Kong for 14 days and then you go to the agency every day and wait for some work."
"And what happens if no one chooses you?"
"Then, you go back home."
"Oh."
Right now I'm just sitting back and waiting for everything to be cleared. Besides, I've already prepared myself in the case that I have to head back to the States. I won't be too disappointed for I've been terribly homesick since the day that I arrived in Asia.
Lately, I've been hiking around the island looking for a place to rent. Living with Uncle Nai isn't as bad as it used to be. When I told him how much I would be making, he was instantly nicer to me. Hmmm... I found this amazing apartment on a small peak with every window overlooking the wide open sea. The rent isn't completely out of my price range and I'd love to live there, but I think I should save a bit more in the beginning.
I should be meeting Shelley anytime now. She's coming to Cheung Chau with her sister. Tomorrow, I'm going to pick up my Chinese visa and by the end of the week I should be heading to Beijing on a 28 hour train ride to visit Jenn. She said she'll give me food and shelter while I'm there so I hope I don't spend too much money.
I shouldn't really be complaining though. I had only been looking for a job for a week and then I got several offers.
I was telling this to Brenda, Uncle Nai's servant, and she replied, "So, it's not so difficult for you." "Really, but I had to cross the island to do interviews every day."
"Yes, but Filipinos can only stay in Hong Kong for 14 days and then you go to the agency every day and wait for some work."
"And what happens if no one chooses you?"
"Then, you go back home."
"Oh."
Right now I'm just sitting back and waiting for everything to be cleared. Besides, I've already prepared myself in the case that I have to head back to the States. I won't be too disappointed for I've been terribly homesick since the day that I arrived in Asia.
Lately, I've been hiking around the island looking for a place to rent. Living with Uncle Nai isn't as bad as it used to be. When I told him how much I would be making, he was instantly nicer to me. Hmmm... I found this amazing apartment on a small peak with every window overlooking the wide open sea. The rent isn't completely out of my price range and I'd love to live there, but I think I should save a bit more in the beginning.
I should be meeting Shelley anytime now. She's coming to Cheung Chau with her sister. Tomorrow, I'm going to pick up my Chinese visa and by the end of the week I should be heading to Beijing on a 28 hour train ride to visit Jenn. She said she'll give me food and shelter while I'm there so I hope I don't spend too much money.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
The job search
#1 misconception - many people think that it's really difficult to find a teaching job in Hong Kong because most people in Hong Kong already know English.
It's true that many people especially those under 40 can speak English in a semi-fluent manner but it is because most people go through special language training in their formal school or attend a private language institute to learn English. However, the main reason why it is difficult to find a job here, for I've been struggling for the past week, is because there are already so many expats here whose native tongue is English. Hong Kong is such a cosmopolitan city as well as one of the major financial cities of the world, many foreigners living here already have residency or a Hong Kong identification card. This card is the key to doing just about anything in Hong Kong from opening up a bank account to setting up a telephone line with internet to signing a lease with a landlord. The major problem is that it's really hard to get that little card.
First you need to find a company to sponsor you for a working visa. Well, all companies or schools would rather hire someone who would save them the time to file all the paperwork and this is what I heard, it's a lot of paper work. It's just a lot less hassle to get a native English speaker who already lives here because again, there are so many. Not to mention, the company has to wait four to six weeks for the working visa to get processed before the applicant can even start working.
The ins and outs of getting a work visa
The requirements for getting a work visa here in Hong Kong are quite different from those in Taiwan. I think in Taiwan the only things that need to be submitted to the government are the company contract, a physical exam report, a photocopy of the applicant's passport and one of his or her degree. From what I heard, the following are the things that need to be submitted to the Hong Kong Immigration Department.
- copy of passport
- copy of degree which should match the subject you are going to teach (if in a public school)
- copy of any teaching certificates like TEFLs, TEASLs, CELTAs, etc. (required to teach in many schools)
- resume with dates of previous working experience
- cover letter
- signed reference letters from former employers that have the dates in which you worked matching the dates you put on your resume. If you are missing a signed reference letter with working dates from a company listed on your resume, they ask you to take it off.
- a copy of your birth certificate
- a transcript from your university (helps)
I may be missing some other vital piece of personal information and even if you've got all these things, there's still no guarantee that you'll get that permit. I've heard of some people having trouble because they are Chinese American. Those guys at the immigration department look at your Chinese last name and they think that you're Chinese so they'd rather give the job to a Hong Kong citizen instead. I'm I little worried but there is a chance I can get residency through relation if I can prove that my parents stayed in Hong Kong for at least seven consecutive years. If I can get a resident Hong Kong ID. My work related troubles will be over. It's easy to find teaching work if you're a citizen here. Meanwhile, I'm waiting for some schools to get back to me.
It's true that many people especially those under 40 can speak English in a semi-fluent manner but it is because most people go through special language training in their formal school or attend a private language institute to learn English. However, the main reason why it is difficult to find a job here, for I've been struggling for the past week, is because there are already so many expats here whose native tongue is English. Hong Kong is such a cosmopolitan city as well as one of the major financial cities of the world, many foreigners living here already have residency or a Hong Kong identification card. This card is the key to doing just about anything in Hong Kong from opening up a bank account to setting up a telephone line with internet to signing a lease with a landlord. The major problem is that it's really hard to get that little card.
First you need to find a company to sponsor you for a working visa. Well, all companies or schools would rather hire someone who would save them the time to file all the paperwork and this is what I heard, it's a lot of paper work. It's just a lot less hassle to get a native English speaker who already lives here because again, there are so many. Not to mention, the company has to wait four to six weeks for the working visa to get processed before the applicant can even start working.
The ins and outs of getting a work visa
The requirements for getting a work visa here in Hong Kong are quite different from those in Taiwan. I think in Taiwan the only things that need to be submitted to the government are the company contract, a physical exam report, a photocopy of the applicant's passport and one of his or her degree. From what I heard, the following are the things that need to be submitted to the Hong Kong Immigration Department.
- copy of passport
- copy of degree which should match the subject you are going to teach (if in a public school)
- copy of any teaching certificates like TEFLs, TEASLs, CELTAs, etc. (required to teach in many schools)
- resume with dates of previous working experience
- cover letter
- signed reference letters from former employers that have the dates in which you worked matching the dates you put on your resume. If you are missing a signed reference letter with working dates from a company listed on your resume, they ask you to take it off.
- a copy of your birth certificate
- a transcript from your university (helps)
I may be missing some other vital piece of personal information and even if you've got all these things, there's still no guarantee that you'll get that permit. I've heard of some people having trouble because they are Chinese American. Those guys at the immigration department look at your Chinese last name and they think that you're Chinese so they'd rather give the job to a Hong Kong citizen instead. I'm I little worried but there is a chance I can get residency through relation if I can prove that my parents stayed in Hong Kong for at least seven consecutive years. If I can get a resident Hong Kong ID. My work related troubles will be over. It's easy to find teaching work if you're a citizen here. Meanwhile, I'm waiting for some schools to get back to me.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Stepping on egg shells
I've been here for just about a week and so far I've had mixed feelings about the whole affair.
I quite like this little island. Walking though the little alley ways past the merchants selling dried salty fish and hearing the clacking of mahjong tiles in the apartments above is like walking into the past. This is where my father grew up; he played and swam at the same beach that I frequent almost everyday. This is where my grandfather, whom I never knew, made Chinese poker cards to support his family of nine. Though I feel this strong connection to this island, I also feel I simply don't belong.
I'm living with Uncle Nai (He is not my uncle. It is in Chinese culture to call older family friends "Uncle" or "Auntie") and his wife. As I mentioned before, the first night was an absolute disaster. I remember Uncle Nai saying that night right before I went to bed, "I want you to be happy here, OK! (He often shouts "Okay" like the way you would say "Boo!") I was anything but. The next day, I didn't see him at all. Actually, he didn't come home for two days. So I simply wandered about the island not really knowing what to do next. The next time I saw him was at the dinner table on Tuesday night. He didn't say a word to me about where he was so I didn't say much to him, not really knowing if I should say anything. The next day was pretty much the same thing. In the morning we all went out to have dim sum at the Warwick Hotel. Brenda had poured me tea several times and I said, "Thank you" but there was one time I failed to say it. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention. What did I hear next?
"Linda, when somebody does something for you, you have to say 'Thank you.'"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you, Brenda." Why do I feel like I'm 6 years old?
After dim sum, everybody goes their separate ways and he tells me to be back for lunch before 12:30. I repeat the time 12:30 and say good-bye. I go to the library to use the internet and head back at 12:10. I get there at 12:25 and everybody is at the table.
"Linda, I told you to be back at 12 o'clock!"
"No, you said 12:30."
"Yes, it's 12:30 now. I said 12:00" Everyone else agrees with him that he said 12:00. With that last word, he finishes his rice and leaves the table to retreat upstairs."
Again, he never lets me have a say.
That night I mention to him that I walked past a school on the island and had an interview.
He says, "Linda, you should not work for that school. They cannot provide you with a working visa."
"But, the manager said that they do provide working visas."
"You really don't understand, do you? You can't trust everybody."
"But then why -"
"This manager is taking you for a fool."
I'm wondering why she would even take the time to explain that I can't start working for the school until the working visa is processed, about 4 weeks. I tell him that I'm going to do a practice teaching the next day.
"Ha! That means she doesn't trust you."
"I thought that was standard practice in this business."
"Linda, I've worked in administration for many years. I know when someone is a good teacher by seeing them." He goes on about how he knows everything about people because he used to be headmaster of a school.
It was either that night or the next, I can't remember, when he went off on me about how I had a bad attitude. I wished I had a tape recorder with me at the time because I had never been faced with such blatant insults in my life. These are some of the things he said to me and it wasn't just what he said, it was how he talked to me. It was in such a threatening manner all the while I couldn't get a word in because he likes to be the one talking not listening.
"There's something wrong with you."
"You are so rude."
"You don't know how to get along with people."
"I don't know why your father taught you like this."
"Even Uncle Leung said there was something wrong with you."
"I don't know why, even you're a university graduate and you act like this."
"You don't have good manners."
"You should say 'Good Morning Uncle' with a smile."
"You are weird."
"You are so immature."
"You have so many things to learn."
"You are too proud."
"Are you offended? Maybe you are but I'm telling you this for your own good I want you to be happy and successful."
I cried that night. Partly because of what he said was hurtful but mostly it was because before this I wondered why my father had not become rich and successful like Uncle Nai and Uncle Leung. I now know that my father is a hundred times a better man that the two of them put together. They've let their money gone to their heads and think that because they have a lot of money, they are never wrong.
I quite like this little island. Walking though the little alley ways past the merchants selling dried salty fish and hearing the clacking of mahjong tiles in the apartments above is like walking into the past. This is where my father grew up; he played and swam at the same beach that I frequent almost everyday. This is where my grandfather, whom I never knew, made Chinese poker cards to support his family of nine. Though I feel this strong connection to this island, I also feel I simply don't belong.
I'm living with Uncle Nai (He is not my uncle. It is in Chinese culture to call older family friends "Uncle" or "Auntie") and his wife. As I mentioned before, the first night was an absolute disaster. I remember Uncle Nai saying that night right before I went to bed, "I want you to be happy here, OK! (He often shouts "Okay" like the way you would say "Boo!") I was anything but. The next day, I didn't see him at all. Actually, he didn't come home for two days. So I simply wandered about the island not really knowing what to do next. The next time I saw him was at the dinner table on Tuesday night. He didn't say a word to me about where he was so I didn't say much to him, not really knowing if I should say anything. The next day was pretty much the same thing. In the morning we all went out to have dim sum at the Warwick Hotel. Brenda had poured me tea several times and I said, "Thank you" but there was one time I failed to say it. Perhaps I wasn't paying attention. What did I hear next?
"Linda, when somebody does something for you, you have to say 'Thank you.'"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you, Brenda." Why do I feel like I'm 6 years old?
After dim sum, everybody goes their separate ways and he tells me to be back for lunch before 12:30. I repeat the time 12:30 and say good-bye. I go to the library to use the internet and head back at 12:10. I get there at 12:25 and everybody is at the table.
"Linda, I told you to be back at 12 o'clock!"
"No, you said 12:30."
"Yes, it's 12:30 now. I said 12:00" Everyone else agrees with him that he said 12:00. With that last word, he finishes his rice and leaves the table to retreat upstairs."
Again, he never lets me have a say.
That night I mention to him that I walked past a school on the island and had an interview.
He says, "Linda, you should not work for that school. They cannot provide you with a working visa."
"But, the manager said that they do provide working visas."
"You really don't understand, do you? You can't trust everybody."
"But then why -"
"This manager is taking you for a fool."
I'm wondering why she would even take the time to explain that I can't start working for the school until the working visa is processed, about 4 weeks. I tell him that I'm going to do a practice teaching the next day.
"Ha! That means she doesn't trust you."
"I thought that was standard practice in this business."
"Linda, I've worked in administration for many years. I know when someone is a good teacher by seeing them." He goes on about how he knows everything about people because he used to be headmaster of a school.
It was either that night or the next, I can't remember, when he went off on me about how I had a bad attitude. I wished I had a tape recorder with me at the time because I had never been faced with such blatant insults in my life. These are some of the things he said to me and it wasn't just what he said, it was how he talked to me. It was in such a threatening manner all the while I couldn't get a word in because he likes to be the one talking not listening.
"There's something wrong with you."
"You are so rude."
"You don't know how to get along with people."
"I don't know why your father taught you like this."
"Even Uncle Leung said there was something wrong with you."
"I don't know why, even you're a university graduate and you act like this."
"You don't have good manners."
"You should say 'Good Morning Uncle' with a smile."
"You are weird."
"You are so immature."
"You have so many things to learn."
"You are too proud."
"Are you offended? Maybe you are but I'm telling you this for your own good I want you to be happy and successful."
I cried that night. Partly because of what he said was hurtful but mostly it was because before this I wondered why my father had not become rich and successful like Uncle Nai and Uncle Leung. I now know that my father is a hundred times a better man that the two of them put together. They've let their money gone to their heads and think that because they have a lot of money, they are never wrong.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
This island is called Cheung Chau
I'm finally here, after the headaches with the Taipei Tax Office, the anxiety of getting all the money I was owed from my previous employer (details later), the endless packing - you never know how much crap you have until you've got to move it all, the farewell lunches and dinners, the good luck hugs, the exhaustion of hauling one huge 32 kg suitcase, my PC, a guitar, and my important documents, 5 pieces of luggage in all through the airport to the MTR to the ferry to the pink house on the hill with two dogs containing one servant from the Philippines named Brenda, a woman in her 60's, I call her Auntie Nai, and last but not least her husband (also her cousin once removed) who also happens to be my Dad's long time friend from when they were schoolmates in elementary school and hence the reason why I am here.
The first night, Sunday, was to put it lightly, not so good. There was a bit of a misunderstanding. I thought I was to give them a call from the ferry pier on Cheung Chau which I did once I got there so Brenda could help me with my luggage. When he answered the phone, a man picked up with a stern voice.
"Wei."
"Hi, this is Linda."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the ferry."
"Which side?In Hong Kong or on Cheung Chau?"
"On Cheung Chau."
"Why didn't you call us from the airport? We have been waiting so long for you!"
"Oh, I thought I had to call from the ferry so the servant could help me carry my luggage."
"No! I told you to call from the airport with free phones there."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't remember you telling me that."
"Your father has told me you have traveled to many places and you don't know this?!"
"I'm sorry, I thought -"
"Anyway, do you still remember the way to our house?"
"Uh, yea I think so. I thought someone could help me with my bags because I have a lot."
"Well, our servant has gone to sleep already."
"Oh, I see..."
"... Well, maybe I can wake her up. She goes to sleep early because she gets up early."
"... Okay, thanks. So I'll just wait here?"
"You know Sunday is her day off."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Okay you wait there."
Not that I'm complaining because he is offering room and board for no cost whatsoever but is it just me or do you also think it was strange that he did not offer to help with my bags as well? Brenda and I were both drenched in sweat after hauling the bags up to the house. And it's not like they were waiting at the airport for me with nothing to do; they were in the comfort of their own home. They could have simply watched a movie while they were waiting for me. So when I got there, he called up my father and yet again berated me scoldings.
"You made everybody so upset. You should know these things." Yada Yada Yada
So I took a shower and went to bed but didn't sleep a wink that night.
The next morning I got up with, perhaps, the worst migraine headache I'd ever had. The migraine lasted two days but subsided the second. I suspect the major reason is that I was getting over a stomach bug but the above could have had something to do with it.
I got up around 9 am and no one was around. I searched the fridge for something to eat but only found raw meat, Chinese vegetables, lots of processed sliced cheese, some cake, ice cream and well nothing suitable for breakfast, not even any milk. I found a cold fried egg and a piece of ham in a dish near the stove so I scarfed that down thinking nobody was around. Then Auntie Nai appeared.
"You get up early!"
"Oh, sorry. I didn't think anyone was -"
"Where is Brenda?! She has been gone for over an hour."
"Um, I don't know..."
"Do you want some (white) bread?"
"Oh, no thank you."
...
"You should have some bread."
"Oh, that's okay, I'm fine."
"Why not!?"
"I'm full already."
I didn't see Uncle Nai at all that first day on the island so I spend most of the day taking short cat naps and walking around the bustling little fishing village.
The first night, Sunday, was to put it lightly, not so good. There was a bit of a misunderstanding. I thought I was to give them a call from the ferry pier on Cheung Chau which I did once I got there so Brenda could help me with my luggage. When he answered the phone, a man picked up with a stern voice.
"Wei."
"Hi, this is Linda."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the ferry."
"Which side?In Hong Kong or on Cheung Chau?"
"On Cheung Chau."
"Why didn't you call us from the airport? We have been waiting so long for you!"
"Oh, I thought I had to call from the ferry so the servant could help me carry my luggage."
"No! I told you to call from the airport with free phones there."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't remember you telling me that."
"Your father has told me you have traveled to many places and you don't know this?!"
"I'm sorry, I thought -"
"Anyway, do you still remember the way to our house?"
"Uh, yea I think so. I thought someone could help me with my bags because I have a lot."
"Well, our servant has gone to sleep already."
"Oh, I see..."
"... Well, maybe I can wake her up. She goes to sleep early because she gets up early."
"... Okay, thanks. So I'll just wait here?"
"You know Sunday is her day off."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Okay you wait there."
Not that I'm complaining because he is offering room and board for no cost whatsoever but is it just me or do you also think it was strange that he did not offer to help with my bags as well? Brenda and I were both drenched in sweat after hauling the bags up to the house. And it's not like they were waiting at the airport for me with nothing to do; they were in the comfort of their own home. They could have simply watched a movie while they were waiting for me. So when I got there, he called up my father and yet again berated me scoldings.
"You made everybody so upset. You should know these things." Yada Yada Yada
So I took a shower and went to bed but didn't sleep a wink that night.
The next morning I got up with, perhaps, the worst migraine headache I'd ever had. The migraine lasted two days but subsided the second. I suspect the major reason is that I was getting over a stomach bug but the above could have had something to do with it.
I got up around 9 am and no one was around. I searched the fridge for something to eat but only found raw meat, Chinese vegetables, lots of processed sliced cheese, some cake, ice cream and well nothing suitable for breakfast, not even any milk. I found a cold fried egg and a piece of ham in a dish near the stove so I scarfed that down thinking nobody was around. Then Auntie Nai appeared.
"You get up early!"
"Oh, sorry. I didn't think anyone was -"
"Where is Brenda?! She has been gone for over an hour."
"Um, I don't know..."
"Do you want some (white) bread?"
"Oh, no thank you."
...
"You should have some bread."
"Oh, that's okay, I'm fine."
"Why not!?"
"I'm full already."
I didn't see Uncle Nai at all that first day on the island so I spend most of the day taking short cat naps and walking around the bustling little fishing village.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Heading to Hong Kong
It's exactly one month until my alien residency card in Taiwan expires. What does this mean? It means I either have to leave the country or renew my contract with Kojen. I opted to leave. I've spent three memorable years here, one more than I had planned to originally. Living in Taipei has had its ups and downs. Let's see... What have I loved about Taiwan...
10. 7-11s everywhere - "It's so convenient here!"
9. People are generally quite friendly.
8. The MRT is awsome. Public transportation rocks.
7. Living expenses are quite low, able to save money.
6. I blend in. Yay!
5. Great Chinese food and the best tea in the world.
4. Hot springs.
3. The mountains are a half hour away.
2. The beach is an hour away.
1. Traveling in Asia and meeting people from around the world.
Things I hate here...
10. Every other store is a 7-11.
9. I hate scooters. They're loud and stinky and everywhere.
8. Traffic rules or shall I say lack there of.
7. Rude people on buses who don't get up to let you into the inside seat.
6. Rude people on buses who shove you out of the way to get to the front.
5. Crazy drivers who don't yield to pedestrians or bicyclists.
4. Cars who don't pull over when there's an ambulance behind them.
3. Prejudice against Asian Americans who don't speak Chinese fluently. I've encountered more prejudice here from Taiwanese and foreigners alike than I had ever experienced in America.
2. Women who carry umbrellas in the sun and look down on those with dark skin.
1. Air pollution. I feel like I've been smoking for twenty years. The pollution is suffocating in Taipei.
1. Lack of individuality and independance amonst people in a monoculture.
1. Girly Taiwanese women and the foreign men who prey on them.
1. Taiwanese men who want their women to be weak, subdued, and without a mind of their own.
There are more but I'll leave it at that.
Actually, many people who come here say they'll only stay here for a year but end up getting swallowed by the comforable life one can have in Taiwan and stay for 5 - 10 years without ever learning to speak Chinese (I also find this rather dispicable.) I promised myself that would never happen to me. I've decided to go on with my original plan to move to Hong Kong and learn Cantonese. Things have already been set into motion. I've given my notice of resignation to my academic director, made arrangements for a place to stay on a little island a half hour ferry ride from Hong Kong proper called Cheung Chau with a beach and no cars, inquired about a Hong Kong visa (it turns out that I don't need a visa. I can stay there for three months on my US passport), and found a replacement to take my room in Tianmu. Now all I need to do is find a job which is giving me a bit of anxiety and has been for the past couple of months. I've applied to several schools with no luck. My Asian appearance and last name seems to be my main hinderance. Employers in Hong Kong apparantly don't think a Chinese American can do as good a job teaching English as a white person can. I thought that perhaps a hundred years being colonized by the British my have taught them something but I guess I was wrong. What makes me feel a little better is telling myself that if it doesn't work out, I can always go home. It's not the end of the world. There are worse predicaments, are there not? Besides, I also promised myself that I would be back in the States by the time I was 30 and start settling down and building a stable life. Well, that's only 5 years away; time's running out!
I haven't posted on this site for quite sometime and probably won't post as often as I used to for several reasons. The main one being my psychotic old hag of a roommate Helen has cancelled my ADSL because she "doesn't want to be responsible for such a large amout of money," about 24USD a month. I've never hated a person as passionately as I do this creature. Thank God I will be rid of her. But that's story to be told another time. When I move to Hong Kong next month it will probably take some time to get the Internet set up and running. I don't think Uncle Ngai uses the Internet or even has a computer.
I'm sitting in an Internet cafe near the Shilin night market. The screen is displayed in Chinese only and there is no spell check so my post is probably littered with mistakes. My apologies.
10. 7-11s everywhere - "It's so convenient here!"
9. People are generally quite friendly.
8. The MRT is awsome. Public transportation rocks.
7. Living expenses are quite low, able to save money.
6. I blend in. Yay!
5. Great Chinese food and the best tea in the world.
4. Hot springs.
3. The mountains are a half hour away.
2. The beach is an hour away.
1. Traveling in Asia and meeting people from around the world.
Things I hate here...
10. Every other store is a 7-11.
9. I hate scooters. They're loud and stinky and everywhere.
8. Traffic rules or shall I say lack there of.
7. Rude people on buses who don't get up to let you into the inside seat.
6. Rude people on buses who shove you out of the way to get to the front.
5. Crazy drivers who don't yield to pedestrians or bicyclists.
4. Cars who don't pull over when there's an ambulance behind them.
3. Prejudice against Asian Americans who don't speak Chinese fluently. I've encountered more prejudice here from Taiwanese and foreigners alike than I had ever experienced in America.
2. Women who carry umbrellas in the sun and look down on those with dark skin.
1. Air pollution. I feel like I've been smoking for twenty years. The pollution is suffocating in Taipei.
1. Lack of individuality and independance amonst people in a monoculture.
1. Girly Taiwanese women and the foreign men who prey on them.
1. Taiwanese men who want their women to be weak, subdued, and without a mind of their own.
There are more but I'll leave it at that.
Actually, many people who come here say they'll only stay here for a year but end up getting swallowed by the comforable life one can have in Taiwan and stay for 5 - 10 years without ever learning to speak Chinese (I also find this rather dispicable.) I promised myself that would never happen to me. I've decided to go on with my original plan to move to Hong Kong and learn Cantonese. Things have already been set into motion. I've given my notice of resignation to my academic director, made arrangements for a place to stay on a little island a half hour ferry ride from Hong Kong proper called Cheung Chau with a beach and no cars, inquired about a Hong Kong visa (it turns out that I don't need a visa. I can stay there for three months on my US passport), and found a replacement to take my room in Tianmu. Now all I need to do is find a job which is giving me a bit of anxiety and has been for the past couple of months. I've applied to several schools with no luck. My Asian appearance and last name seems to be my main hinderance. Employers in Hong Kong apparantly don't think a Chinese American can do as good a job teaching English as a white person can. I thought that perhaps a hundred years being colonized by the British my have taught them something but I guess I was wrong. What makes me feel a little better is telling myself that if it doesn't work out, I can always go home. It's not the end of the world. There are worse predicaments, are there not? Besides, I also promised myself that I would be back in the States by the time I was 30 and start settling down and building a stable life. Well, that's only 5 years away; time's running out!
I haven't posted on this site for quite sometime and probably won't post as often as I used to for several reasons. The main one being my psychotic old hag of a roommate Helen has cancelled my ADSL because she "doesn't want to be responsible for such a large amout of money," about 24USD a month. I've never hated a person as passionately as I do this creature. Thank God I will be rid of her. But that's story to be told another time. When I move to Hong Kong next month it will probably take some time to get the Internet set up and running. I don't think Uncle Ngai uses the Internet or even has a computer.
I'm sitting in an Internet cafe near the Shilin night market. The screen is displayed in Chinese only and there is no spell check so my post is probably littered with mistakes. My apologies.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Monday, September 05, 2005
I'm back and better than ever
Now that the hectic summer schedule at Kojen is over, I'll have more time to write in my blog. But not today. More stories and photos to come, though. So stay tuned.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Love's lost but not forgotten
Ok, listen, this is my sappy spiel about love but if you don't want to hear what's been said a million times over, then don't read on.
Love hides in strange places. Sometimes when you've got it, you don't want it and when you haven't got it anymore, you want it more than anything. It's not cut and dry like the movies portray it to be - you love someone or you don't love someone. For me, at least, love happens in percentages. You love the person a lot of the time but there are times when I actually felt pure loathing toward this person. It was when the scales started tipping to the wrong side, I decided to question my purpose in the relationship. You can start to think that the person you share your life with doesn't really deserve to have the amount of affection you've been giving him and hence, begin to give less and less.
It can never be like that first month or in my case six months of a relationship. It's euphoric. Colors are more vivid. Your shoes fit better. Everything seems right.
If you spend years with the same person that person truly becomes part of you. This person shares the same memories with you and as time passes, eventually the number of memories including this person outnumbers the memories without this person. But then, what will happen when this person is ousted from your life by extreme forces? Who are you? Where is that part of you where that person once happily resided?
Panic takes over. Where am I? What do I do? Where is he, damnit? I want that piece back. What extremes can I go to find that missing part of me and how dare you take it away, whoever, whatever you are? Anger. Hatred. Clouded irrational thinking. Anguish. Heartache.
"What was the reason why I broke up with him again? I can't seem to remember. All I can remember are the good ones with him. I think I want him back but it's just too late. But is it? Maybe not. I'm going to try to get him back. But why do I want to do this? How will I do this? Wasn't I so unhappy when we were together? It doesn't matter because it's got to be better than the misery I'm feeling now. Anything to just make the pain go away." This is what I thought every minute of the day.
You need some kind of force to bring you back down to earth from this constant delirious brooding. For me, it was my friends. They reminded me why I broke up with him in the first place and it was like an extraordinary epiphany. I was instantly happy. The weight was lifted off of me and suddenly I was on cloud nine. This guy was not the right for me; they spelled it out in every way possible. I could do better. Yes, of course, I could. There are so many guys in this world and I know that I'm special. I'm different from most girls.
I now know that man who is going to truly love me and make me happy (not that I'm not perfectly content being by myself) is out there. I can't wait to meet him.
Love hides in strange places. Sometimes when you've got it, you don't want it and when you haven't got it anymore, you want it more than anything. It's not cut and dry like the movies portray it to be - you love someone or you don't love someone. For me, at least, love happens in percentages. You love the person a lot of the time but there are times when I actually felt pure loathing toward this person. It was when the scales started tipping to the wrong side, I decided to question my purpose in the relationship. You can start to think that the person you share your life with doesn't really deserve to have the amount of affection you've been giving him and hence, begin to give less and less.
It can never be like that first month or in my case six months of a relationship. It's euphoric. Colors are more vivid. Your shoes fit better. Everything seems right.
If you spend years with the same person that person truly becomes part of you. This person shares the same memories with you and as time passes, eventually the number of memories including this person outnumbers the memories without this person. But then, what will happen when this person is ousted from your life by extreme forces? Who are you? Where is that part of you where that person once happily resided?
Panic takes over. Where am I? What do I do? Where is he, damnit? I want that piece back. What extremes can I go to find that missing part of me and how dare you take it away, whoever, whatever you are? Anger. Hatred. Clouded irrational thinking. Anguish. Heartache.
"What was the reason why I broke up with him again? I can't seem to remember. All I can remember are the good ones with him. I think I want him back but it's just too late. But is it? Maybe not. I'm going to try to get him back. But why do I want to do this? How will I do this? Wasn't I so unhappy when we were together? It doesn't matter because it's got to be better than the misery I'm feeling now. Anything to just make the pain go away." This is what I thought every minute of the day.
You need some kind of force to bring you back down to earth from this constant delirious brooding. For me, it was my friends. They reminded me why I broke up with him in the first place and it was like an extraordinary epiphany. I was instantly happy. The weight was lifted off of me and suddenly I was on cloud nine. This guy was not the right for me; they spelled it out in every way possible. I could do better. Yes, of course, I could. There are so many guys in this world and I know that I'm special. I'm different from most girls.
I now know that man who is going to truly love me and make me happy (not that I'm not perfectly content being by myself) is out there. I can't wait to meet him.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
To Malcolm
Where do I start?
Hearing that you went out with someone else was as if some heinous beast had reached into my chest and tore out a piece of my heart. It's strange, that expression, "a broken heart" because the pain really felt like it stemmed from somewhere within my chest cavity. It's a real physical pain; it's not up there where you think and make logical decisions.
I know I was the one who did the breaking up. I put you through a lot of pain and anguish. I know. It's mostly my pride and selfishness that is causing my own misery. You have a right to see other women.
I ponder the reasons why you did it the way you did it. Some think you just wanted to make me jealous or piss me off and if that's true, you succeeded. You won. I cried. A lot. I spent many a night wide-eyed starring at the window. Let me out of this nightmare. Or that this was some last attempt at getting me back. Others think, you just needed a quick fuck. That actually doesn't bother me as much as disappoint me for I thought you were a different kind of man, the kind that doesn't think with that small piece of flesh hanging between his legs. Actually, what I think is that you simply needed to move on and there's nothing wrong with that. The reasons don't matter.
The days and nights have been hard. I shed a lot of tears that first night. The second I shed fewer. The third even fewer and now though I still do feel a strange pit in my chest, I think I'm okay. It gets easier as the days go by and to be honest my friends have really come through for me. They are there to comfort me, to tell me to be strong, to criticize you (which makes me feel a lot better), to eat, to laugh about our silly lives. They are great. It would be so much harder had I not had good friends to lean on.
I constantly replay all those amazing times we had together. There were so many. Everywhere I look I see something that reminds me of some experience we had. I search for some sign that you are trying to make contact with me. When the telephone rings, I hope it's you. When I turn over in my bed at night I see an imaginary outline of you body next to mine. Then it disappears. During the day, I wonder what you are up to. I wonder if you wonder what I'm up to. I do miss you much.
We were the best of friends throughout our relationship as well as after it ended. Our conversations even became more intimate afterwards too. I think perhaps the main reason why I am so upset is because I lost my best friend that night and that my best treated me with such contempt.
I was reading this book in Eslite the other day called Blink. The author talked about how some people make it in life, not only do they have wealth but they also have true happiness while others suffer bad fortune throughout their lives. He attributed it to the ability to make good decisions. Basically, there are those who have a sense about how to make the right decision most of the time leading to fulfilling successful lives. Anyway, I think I'm one of those people. Things always seem to work out for me. I know that I made the right decision to break up with you because you are certainly not the right mate for me. There are simply too many incompatible traits the main one being our differences in values. Therefore, I stand firm with the decision that we cannot be friends anymore. We both have to move on.
However, I do have some of your possessions like your tent and a good book of yours. I think you may want them back. You have the travel guide that I have to give to my coworker. I would somehow like to set up a time where we can exchange items. You can send me an e-mail or leave me a message.
Hearing that you went out with someone else was as if some heinous beast had reached into my chest and tore out a piece of my heart. It's strange, that expression, "a broken heart" because the pain really felt like it stemmed from somewhere within my chest cavity. It's a real physical pain; it's not up there where you think and make logical decisions.
I know I was the one who did the breaking up. I put you through a lot of pain and anguish. I know. It's mostly my pride and selfishness that is causing my own misery. You have a right to see other women.
I ponder the reasons why you did it the way you did it. Some think you just wanted to make me jealous or piss me off and if that's true, you succeeded. You won. I cried. A lot. I spent many a night wide-eyed starring at the window. Let me out of this nightmare. Or that this was some last attempt at getting me back. Others think, you just needed a quick fuck. That actually doesn't bother me as much as disappoint me for I thought you were a different kind of man, the kind that doesn't think with that small piece of flesh hanging between his legs. Actually, what I think is that you simply needed to move on and there's nothing wrong with that. The reasons don't matter.
The days and nights have been hard. I shed a lot of tears that first night. The second I shed fewer. The third even fewer and now though I still do feel a strange pit in my chest, I think I'm okay. It gets easier as the days go by and to be honest my friends have really come through for me. They are there to comfort me, to tell me to be strong, to criticize you (which makes me feel a lot better), to eat, to laugh about our silly lives. They are great. It would be so much harder had I not had good friends to lean on.
I constantly replay all those amazing times we had together. There were so many. Everywhere I look I see something that reminds me of some experience we had. I search for some sign that you are trying to make contact with me. When the telephone rings, I hope it's you. When I turn over in my bed at night I see an imaginary outline of you body next to mine. Then it disappears. During the day, I wonder what you are up to. I wonder if you wonder what I'm up to. I do miss you much.
We were the best of friends throughout our relationship as well as after it ended. Our conversations even became more intimate afterwards too. I think perhaps the main reason why I am so upset is because I lost my best friend that night and that my best treated me with such contempt.
I was reading this book in Eslite the other day called Blink. The author talked about how some people make it in life, not only do they have wealth but they also have true happiness while others suffer bad fortune throughout their lives. He attributed it to the ability to make good decisions. Basically, there are those who have a sense about how to make the right decision most of the time leading to fulfilling successful lives. Anyway, I think I'm one of those people. Things always seem to work out for me. I know that I made the right decision to break up with you because you are certainly not the right mate for me. There are simply too many incompatible traits the main one being our differences in values. Therefore, I stand firm with the decision that we cannot be friends anymore. We both have to move on.
However, I do have some of your possessions like your tent and a good book of yours. I think you may want them back. You have the travel guide that I have to give to my coworker. I would somehow like to set up a time where we can exchange items. You can send me an e-mail or leave me a message.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Eye of the Storm
Typhoon Haitang hit Taiwan yesterday with fury. The government has shut down all businesses on the island today, a somewhat expected day off. It's not as bad as the last one though. Last year we got one, the wind was so strong it whistled and the windows shook and rattled so much in the middle of the night that I feared they would cave in so I retreated to the bathroom where I sat for nearly an hour.
I just came back from a walk outside. There's something so dangerous yet eerily alluring about the ultra high speed winds of a typhoon. Armed with a full body 7-11 poncho, I walked around the block. I passed fallen branches, leaf covered cars on the side of the road, the occasional taxi, a few pedestrians struggling with their bent umbrellas. I only got scared when I saw roofing bricks strew across the sidewalk. I thought to myself, "Hey, it would probably hurt if I got clonked in the head by one of those." So I made my way back home but stopped in the small sheltered area by my bank and stayed there for a good twenty minutes watching Mother Nature release her anger.
The rain comes down sideways in long layers. The air is fresh, so fresh and moist. Breath it up. The trees lean over. Which ones are strong enough to survive. I look over to the small atrium where the fish and the turtles in the pond swim happily in circles completely oblivious to the chaos that is happening outside their little world. Before entering my building I take a few snapshots of the sun with my water proof camera. There's an open patch up there. It seems the clouds are twisting around it. I feel strangely like I'm being watched.
I just came back from a walk outside. There's something so dangerous yet eerily alluring about the ultra high speed winds of a typhoon. Armed with a full body 7-11 poncho, I walked around the block. I passed fallen branches, leaf covered cars on the side of the road, the occasional taxi, a few pedestrians struggling with their bent umbrellas. I only got scared when I saw roofing bricks strew across the sidewalk. I thought to myself, "Hey, it would probably hurt if I got clonked in the head by one of those." So I made my way back home but stopped in the small sheltered area by my bank and stayed there for a good twenty minutes watching Mother Nature release her anger.
The rain comes down sideways in long layers. The air is fresh, so fresh and moist. Breath it up. The trees lean over. Which ones are strong enough to survive. I look over to the small atrium where the fish and the turtles in the pond swim happily in circles completely oblivious to the chaos that is happening outside their little world. Before entering my building I take a few snapshots of the sun with my water proof camera. There's an open patch up there. It seems the clouds are twisting around it. I feel strangely like I'm being watched.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
And how are the bathrooms in Vietnam?
I think it's funny how after my trip to Vietnam so many Taiwanese people asked me if the toilets in Vietnam were as bad as the ones in Mainland China as if Chinese bathrooms were the gauge to determine the level horrific sanitary conditions in the world. I've never been to the mainland so I really can't compare but I did come across some pretty interesting washrooms along the way.
En route to Hoi An from Mui Ne on a narrow mountain pass in the middle of the night, beeping, veering past trucks in our overcrowded tourist bus with children hanging out of their seats and people sleeping in the aisles, we pause at a rest stop along the way. Everybody's gotta go to the John but the foreboding question hovers in the back of women's minds, "Are the bathrooms clean?"
"YES! Yes they are!" The place was most likely built specifically for tourists since the restaurant looks fairly tidy for a diner in the middle of no where.
It was only until the next morning when we stopped again at a another pit stop did we encounter restrooms that repelled us. I open the door and it's an empty tiled room with a tiny spigot where I think water comes out and a small hole in the corner for a drain. That's it. No toilet, not even a squatter. I close the door. Hmm. I go to the next stall. It's the same thing. What do I do? I look at this other white tourist woman near me and she looks back at me with the same perplexed look. Hey, I gotta go so I enter the stall. I pee on my feet. Gross!! I guess that's what the faucet is for, to wash the pee off your feet. Oh, now everything makes sense.
On another occasion while in the countryside of Ninh Binh we get off a bus and of course I have to go to the bathroom. At the little shop where we rented our bicycles, I kindly ask the owner, a little elderly Vietnamese woman if I could use her toilet. She brings me to the back of the store, where her family lives, to a wooden shack with a corrugated steel roof the size of a small closet. I open the door. I see a bucket of overflowing coal in the corner. The floor is made of some wooded planks haphazardly spread across the ground. The strangest thing was that there was a wooden stake coming out of the ground up to my waist right smack in the middle of the little room. There was barely enough room to squat. What the hell am I suppose to do here? I pee on my feet again but this time there wasn't a convenient faucet to wash it off. I open the door and walk past a plastic container of water and quickly scoop some up and throw it on my feet. I was ready to roll.
En route to Hoi An from Mui Ne on a narrow mountain pass in the middle of the night, beeping, veering past trucks in our overcrowded tourist bus with children hanging out of their seats and people sleeping in the aisles, we pause at a rest stop along the way. Everybody's gotta go to the John but the foreboding question hovers in the back of women's minds, "Are the bathrooms clean?"
"YES! Yes they are!" The place was most likely built specifically for tourists since the restaurant looks fairly tidy for a diner in the middle of no where.
It was only until the next morning when we stopped again at a another pit stop did we encounter restrooms that repelled us. I open the door and it's an empty tiled room with a tiny spigot where I think water comes out and a small hole in the corner for a drain. That's it. No toilet, not even a squatter. I close the door. Hmm. I go to the next stall. It's the same thing. What do I do? I look at this other white tourist woman near me and she looks back at me with the same perplexed look. Hey, I gotta go so I enter the stall. I pee on my feet. Gross!! I guess that's what the faucet is for, to wash the pee off your feet. Oh, now everything makes sense.
On another occasion while in the countryside of Ninh Binh we get off a bus and of course I have to go to the bathroom. At the little shop where we rented our bicycles, I kindly ask the owner, a little elderly Vietnamese woman if I could use her toilet. She brings me to the back of the store, where her family lives, to a wooden shack with a corrugated steel roof the size of a small closet. I open the door. I see a bucket of overflowing coal in the corner. The floor is made of some wooded planks haphazardly spread across the ground. The strangest thing was that there was a wooden stake coming out of the ground up to my waist right smack in the middle of the little room. There was barely enough room to squat. What the hell am I suppose to do here? I pee on my feet again but this time there wasn't a convenient faucet to wash it off. I open the door and walk past a plastic container of water and quickly scoop some up and throw it on my feet. I was ready to roll.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Scribbles in my Moleskin
The following are just some observations I wrote down in my Moleskin notebook (every traveler should have a Moleskin) while in Vietnam.
- Beware of what restaurants serve; they'll put extra food out on the table. Patrons will think it comes with the meal but when the bill comes they charge you a lot extra.
- Everyone in Hoi An leaves their doors open at night
- Don't bring books. Buy a copied one here. Lots of Lonely Planets for a couple of dollars but be careful because some pages may be missing.
- Many, many old ladies but not many old men
- Tourists always get charged for at least double the price of goods
- So many flies in Cambodian markets but not many in Vietnam
- Vietnam cyclos: 1 passenger in front, driver in back. Cambodian tuk tuks: 2 passengers in back driver in front
- Very few street lights in Ho Chi Minh City. Lots of traffic circles but people don't follow the rules and make right and left turns at them.
- Beeping without abandon
- No McDonalds or big fast food chains. No Starbucks but there is a large coffee chain called Trung Nguyen which Starbucks tried to buy
- Almost everyone has a lean or slender body type
- The currency is very inefficient. They don't use coins. They use both USD and Vietnamese Dong. There's almost always trouble getting change for 50,000 dong which is about 3 USD.
- There are lots of humanitarian non profit organizations/schools for underprivileged youth
- Lots of seedy businesses: never know who to trust. No copyright laws so if one company does well, others will copy the name. Example: 50 Sinh Cafes, which one was the original?
- Very few dairy products because refrigeration is not common. Ice is delivered to restaurants on motorcycles
- restaurants often buy food from other vendor to sell at their restaurants instead of cooking it themselves.
- Locals drop human waste into Halong Bay.
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