A new year, a new resolution: 2007

"There are few things humans are more dedicated to than unhappiness. Had we been placed on earth by a malign creator for the exclusive purpose of suffering, we would have good reason to congratulate ourselves on our enthusiastic response to the task. Reasons to be inconsolable abound: the frailty of our bodies, the fickleness of love, the insincerities of social life, the compromises of friendship, the deadening effects of habit. In the face of such persistent ills, we might naturally expect that no event would be awaited with greater anticipation than the moment of our own extinction."
--Alain de Botton How Proust Can Change Your Life

I have been back home in America for nearly a month now and I must say it was one of the hardest months I've ever had the displeasure to endure. I had to leave Cheung Chau where I lived in a beautiful apartment located on a cliff overlooking the South China Sea, next to lush subtropical greenery, a beach a ten minute walk away, on a island with no cars, a short ferry ride to one of the most cosmopolitan, most advanced cities in the world, the lovely jewel of Asia called Hong Kong. I left the jet setting life style of traveling to several different countries a year. I was having afternoon tea at the Peninsula. I was scuba diving in the south of Thailand. I was seeing live music on the weekends or going out onto the mountains in Sai Kung for a Sunday afternoon hike. This was normal for me. Up until two weeks before my departure, I was completely fine with leaving all this behind and starting up yet another life back in New Jersey, the place I had never, even after four years living in Ohio for college and after another four years in China, stopped considering my home. But then the fear struck. Number one, I was leaving someone that I loved very dearly for the past four years behind in order to start a professional life in America, a life that I'd been planning since the day I stepped onto the plane to go to Asia. Was I doing the right thing? The week before my plane was to leave was so harrowing, I was so grief-stricken, I wept at least five times a day and was in constant emotional agony. The decision to leave was tormenting me inside and out. I showed classic signs of depression - feeling lethargic, not wanting to leave the apartment and having a lack of appetite, being hungry but not really having the desire to put something in my mouth, chew then swallow.

Once I got back home, the pressure on me was compounded by my family situation. My mother has for as long as I've known her has been mentally ill, my brother after he was terminated from his job more than a year ago started showing signs of the same mental illness, my grandmother was put in a nursing home after a stroke eight months ago, my father's finances are terrible with the possibility of losing the house (which is in complete disarray), my aunt was hit by a car and is now being harangued by the hospital for bills topping thousands of dollars, all this while I unsuccessfully looked for a job without any practical education or relevant experience. I didn't know many people in the area anymore either except some old high school friends who had their own lives now so I felt really completely isolated. It was then I looked to getting in touch with my spiritual side and picked up a book by the Dalai Lama called the Art of Happiness. After I finished it, I went to the library and got another book similar in content, and then another until I had almost read all the books on Buddhism in the local library. Since then, and I know this sounds so cliche, I can truly attest that I've become much more in tune with what is important in life.

I feel like this has been some forced spiritual retreat created to test how I would deal with a difficult situation but somehow I think it's worked. I feel like I've had an epiphany of sorts. I now know what my purpose in life is - to be compassionate towards all living things, to serve others and to experience happiness through this.

A few days ago, I went downtown to do some errands and to pick some things up one of which was for my grandmother in the nursing home - a bouquet of flowers which I thought had been missing from her bedside table. Now, I have no money except for a few hundred dollars in the bank and eighty in cash and I'm unemployed. But I was sure I wanted to spend the seven dollars on the flowers. After I cut the stems, placed the bouquet in a vase and set them down, she smiled and told me they looked really pretty. When I left, I caught a glimpse of her looking back at the flowers. Who could have thought that giving something could feel better than receiving?

Every decision I make, every thought I come up with, I try to do with the idea of being compassionate. I don't claim that I always succeed or that I'm always happy. That would mean that I've reached enlightenment which normally takes many lifetimes of rigorous meditation and prayer not a month of reading spirituality books. But I can say I feel more grounded whereas when I was away, I was swept away with the jet setting lifestyle of there always being something to do, somewhere to go or be, pleasurable experiences to take part in and in a way I used to think that this was living. It was fun but it's not necessarily the formula for happiness. I now know what my purpose is in life- to serve others. And if that means that I get trampled on, abused, insulted, embarrassed, pushed, I will not hit back but try to retain my compassion to those whose wish is to harm me. This is my vow for not only the the new year to come but for as long as I remain in this world.

"This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward people... re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss what insults your very soul, and your very flesh shall become a great poem." ---Walt Whitman

House of sticks. Does someone
actually live in here?

Near Kam Kong Primary School, Cheung Chau.

Times Square, Causeway Bay. I like how
everyone is doing something different.

Topsy Turvy

My fascination with Chinese cemetaries.

Koh Lanta

On the boat, heading for a dive.

PADI Certification

Descending into the depths of Koh Haa Lagoon in south of Thailand

On the Road

I haven't posted for quite some time. I kept telling myself I would do it soon. Now that I've got absolutely nothing of any importance to do - no work, no school, no traveling, nor anyone to be a host to - here it is. What have I been up to lately you ask; well, I'd be happy to tell you.

• In October, I went camping along the MacLehose Trail in the New Territories. We hiked up Pat Sing Leng, one of the highest peaks in Hong Kong. Though, it wasn't what I'd expected. I wanted to see lush forest and clear running streams of mountain water but there wasn't much of that at all. What we did see was a lot of grass and lots of steps, lots and lots of stone steps. My legs were shaking uncontrollably by the end of it. The highlight of the trip was that I got to see a wild boar while hiking and some mischievous macaque monkeys who stole some food from other people at our campsite. Heh, Heh.
• A week after that, Malcolm treated me to afternoon tea at the most famous hotel in Hong Kong, that's right - The Peninsula. I withheld from eating that morning because I thought it would be an all you could eat buffet of finger foods and a choco fountain like at the Hyatt in Taipei. But it wasn't. I was most disappointed when our server placed an elaborately decorated silver three-tier tray in front of us with four finger sandwiches and about six pastries and didn't refill it after we inhaled them within seconds. Still ravenous afterwards we went to Chungking Mansions to fill up on some cheap Indian samosas and snacks.
  
• The next weekend, we did some snorkeling at Hoi Ha Wan near Plover Clove in the New Territories. The water up north is much cleaner and the visibility is good because the waters don't get muddied by the Pearl River Delta like in the south. I never knew that I could find such rich coral life in Hong Kong. I recommend this area to anyone who wants to have some inexpensive fun outside the city.
  
• I also took a day trip out to Tai O with Jenn. Who would have thought, we'd leave our fishing village on Cheung Chau to tour another fishing village two hours away. I would describe it as Cheung Chau's less developed sister. The water surrounding the village isn't too clean, the sewage system isn't up to date and there wasn't very much to see, a few temples, some old streets, nothing I haven't seen before.
  

Here's lookin' at you, kid. Over-exposed by Malcolm. 

Moving On

The hectic summer schedule has finally ended and with the end of the summer came the end of my contract; I put in my letter of resignation more than two months earlier which means I am no longer a teacher of English to non-native speakers which means no more obnoxious little brats I've got to discipline, no more tedious lesson plans I have to prepare, and the best part of all no more prick of a boss I have to deal with. Hooray!

In celebration of this momentous event I went out for a scrumptious buffet lunch on Saturday and on Sunday I did what I'd always thought about doing but was to scared to attempt, I shaved my head. And it feels great, let me tell ya! It's so much cooler in the hot and humid climate of Hong Kong. I don't have to shampoo and condition my hair in the shower, I can use soap, don't have to comb it nor blow dry it or wait for it to air dry it before I go to sleep, it only takes one wipe of a towel. It's so effortless that I now can't believe how much time we women spend on our hair in a lifetime compared to our short-haired male counterparts.

One reason I chose this particular time to experiment with an altogether different hairdo (lack of hairdo?) was that I am temporarily leaving the workforce to study Cantonese five days a week for the next two months and then traveling to Southeast Asia the following month before heading back home to Jersey for good. By then, hopefully my hair will have grown to a reasonably acceptable length to land a decent job. The main reason I was reluctant to cut my hair short before was because I thought it would influence my job prospects which I now know after working for some of the most discriminatory people I've ever had the misfortune to meet to be true.

The things that I heard coming out of my co-workers' mouths about the job applicants that were to replace me were disgusting enough to make me want to vomit. And they weren't just racist comments but ageist, sexist, discriminatory against people who were over-weight, pretty much anyone who didn't fit the young, thin, Anglo-looking woman was ridiculed. That they shared their opinions with me I thought was really curious since I of course do not fit their ideal appearance of a teacher. They had known that my last day would be August 31st and by the time I left, they had still not found a teacher because they had rejected so many resumes on account of the applicant's heritage or sometimes even because the person had a foreign sounding name even though their nationality may have been from English speaking nation.

They had considered a former hairdresser with no experience teaching over a Mexican-American male named Sal with a BA in child development. It was baffling. Stephen, the center's self proclaimed "principal", interrupted my class to ask whether the name Sal was a man or a women's name. (They believed that men would not be able to teach kindergarten.) When I asked Candy, the assistant what she thought of Sal after his interview, her face contorted into an ugly expression when she commented, "He look... no good." "Oh, you mean he's ugly?" "No, look Pakistani or something..." "Ah, huh... I see..." And that was the end of that conversation.

But, now it's all over and I don't have to worry about any of that anymore. I'll be getting up tomorrow at 6:30 (I hope) bright and shine for my 9:00 Cantonese class in Wan Chai. Hope all goes well.

I walk alone

I remember a while back when I was living in Taiwan, a friend asked me if I would ever go to a restaurant by myself. I replied with a question, "Why would I do that? Maybe a take out joint or a cafeteria but a nice restaurant, no." That was some time ago. I've traveled much more. I lived in more places. I've eaten in many more restaurants. Somehow, somewhere in the time period between that moment and now, the fear of being alone for long stretches of time has diminished. I'm not saying that it is not present at times, just that my tolerance for being alone has grown.

When I first got here on this island and didn't know anyone, the loneliness was nearly unbearable. I had two coworkers, my manager from HK and an English fellow who grew up on the island, one grumpy family friend who I didn't get along with, and a village people who didn't speak a lick of English. What was I to do?

One day, I reached my breaking point. I had found out where the local expat pub was located and was determined to speak English to whoever foreign person I could find. Sure enough there was a group of them sitting outside, Mick an older Brit who had been on the island for 25 years, Nick an unemployed writer, Will an American in his 30's and his Asian girlfriend. Now, I wouldn't have normally associated myself with some strangers in a bar, but I was desperate. The pool of people in Asia that you can carry a conversation with is much smaller so one can't be too picky when choosing who to talk to. Anyway, we talked about various subjects in HK like job seeking and housing, the normal things people talk about when first arriving in a new city. Will and I started on the topic of Taiwan where we had both once lived. Then I think his girlfriend started to become jealous so the two of them start making out right at the table in front of everyone. It was the strangest thing and no one else seemed to blink an eye. That was about eight months ago. I haven't been back since nor have I had the desire to.

I had learned to occupy my time with a lot of hiking around the island and always I wanted to share this time up in the mountains or near the ocean with someone else because it was simply so beautiful that it would be impossible to explain it in words or capture it in a photo. Then last week I was on one of these walks exploring more of the village wishing someone was there so we could talk about these new places and then it struck me. Wait a minute, if I were with someone else, I wouldn't be able to go where I wanted. Every time I'm with someone else, we've got to ask each other where to go next, to go straight ahead or make the next left, when to head back or to keep going. There is always a slight concern for the other person and it's always a compromise when being with someone else. Being with another would take the freedom, the joy out of wandering around and discovering new niches in an unknown territory. That freedom is what I love about traveling. It is my passion.

Not to say that I like being by myself all the time but now if that friend asked me the same question of whether or not I would eat in a nice restaurant alone, I would think nothing of it. Would I go on vacation by myself? Sure, if safety or money wasn't an issue. I might even prefer it.

I'll end this entry with a haiku for today.

Alone I am now
Tranquil silence surrounds me
Yet I am at peace

The road to financial freedom

I wish I could frame this and put it on my wall. I AM FINALLY DONE PAYING OFF MY STUDENT LOAN! WOOHOOOOOO! It's been a long four years but I can safely say that I am now debt free. Life is good.

Racism in Asia (cont...)

Check out this article I found from the South China Morning Post.

http://www.bigenglish.com/imgs/14jan.news.jpg

Snake Love. Two snakes in the heat of passion on the trail near my apartment.  

Racism in Asia - An Anti-Asian American Sentiment in Hong Kong

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I've never been subjected to such racism as I have been here in Hong Kong and Taiwan. Back home I would occasionally get the "You speak English good. Where're you from?" comment every now and then but I don't believe that I'd ever failed to accomplish what I set out to do on account of my Asian face.

The common word for foreigner here is gwai lo which literally means something like devil man. My manager referred to me as one when I ordered some sweet and sour pork. First of all, last time I checked, I'm not a man, nor am I a devil. Please don't tell me I am.

Months before I arrived in Hong Kong, I sent my resume to dozens of schools looking for a teaching position. Almost none replied. I figured they didn't want to hire someone out of the country. Fair enough. Then, I got one phone call, an interested party, no doubt. We talked several times and just as I was sure I'd clinched the job, she asked if I was Chinese. I said, "What? No, I'm American." "Yes but do you have black hair? Your name is Chinese." "My parents are from Hong Kong but I was born and raised in the States." "I'm afraid we can't hire you because the immigration department may not issue a visa to you because you have a Chinese last name and they would rather give the visa to a foreigner." I just about blew my top. It was a good thing I was at the gym because I really wanted to hit somebody.

When I first got here, I interviewed with this company called New Horizons, which incidentally Malcolm is now working for. The man who I interviewed with, an Aussie, was really nice. He showed me around, answered any questions I had about living in Hong Kong. Then, he started going into who applies for this job. They get tons of resumes from abroad, which they don't even look at because those applicants simply can't be trusted. They get people from different fields like business, CIS, English, and so on. Asian people who were born and bred from an English speaking country. They may be considered. And a lot of people of Indian descent who come in with perhaps perfect English but don't hire because the market doesn't want Indian people to teach English. Hm, I see. So this company hires only white people. Needless to say, I didn't get the job.

The latest insult to indirectly affect me was when my co-worker designed the current newsletter for our English school. On the cover were two pictures. One of him and his class (he is caucasian) and another white teacher and her class in my classroom. There are only two teachers at our school - him and me. Who the f#@k this other white chick? It is so blatantly offensive that when I saw it, I laughed. It turns out that she was a former teacher though she had not worked there for almost a year. If this had happened back home, I could sue the asses off of this school.

I like it here, Hong Kong. It's a beautiful city. But the longer I stay here, the stronger the pull grows to go back home.

Roofing. 

Home of a fish merchant. 

Wood strewn on the side of a trail in Mui Wo. 

Bug Off

Living here in this beautiful apartment in the middle of a tropical paradise sitting on cliff overlooking the wide expanse of the South China Sea is what can I say, pretty nice. The house was built in 2001. It's got a solid brick construction, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, hardwood floors, nice furniture, all this situated 45 minutes from one of the biggest metropolises in the world if not Asia for not a whole lotta money.

I don't have a whole lot to complain about but, let me tell you, there are downsides to living out in the jungle. For the past few weeks, while the mercury slowly rose to summer like temperatures, so did the number of insects flying, buzzing, fluttering, creeping, crawling, ughhh yuck.

It rained on Monday. An hour after it stopped I left for my guitar lesson. What I saw on the trail down the mountain was one of the most disgusting things I had ever seen, though, not as disgusting as giant snails slithering all over the ATMs in Taipei but that's a different story. Anyway, I started walking and I saw these fluttering bugs that weren't mosquitoes, moths, nor dragonflies - I don't know what they were but there were millions of them. They were everywhere in the air and on the ground so when I stepped I couldn't avoid crushing them, they were in my hair, on my clothes in my face. What could I do? I had to go to my guitar lesson so there ended up being a lot of bug guts on the bottom of my sneakers by the time I got there. When I headed back after the lesson, they were gone, just a bunch of fat frogs left hopping about.

Yesterday, I found a centipede in my bedroom. It was dead, caught in my mosquito net. I was so distraught I couldn't even muster up enough courage to clean it up. I kept thinking about the idea of a centipede crawling all over me while I slept.

Then there are the mosquitoes. I'm one of those people who if in a crowd of a hundred people, a mosquito will zero in and aim for. It started with one or two mosquito bites a day. Then, that turned into four or five. Pretty soon all of my extremities were covered in little ichy pink bumps that kept me awake at night. I put my mosquito net up above my bed but somehow those clever little buggers found their way in. I got a mosquito racket but I hardly ever saw the bugs, they're so damn elusive. (For those of you who don't live in Asia, it's a small plastic tennis racket with metal mesh in the middle. When you push a button on the handle, electricity passes through the wire zapping anything that gets caught. It's quite satisfying to electrocute a mosquito.) Sometimes, I even thought I was spontaneously erupting red welts on my body since I never saw them. I even wore long clothes and sweat myself to death in this tropical climate of 90 degree weather. It was time for something stronger. I marched my way to Watsons and got me some of that OFF insect repellent. I was holding off because we all know that OFF contains DEET, ya know, that dangerous chemical that can cause serious damage to your nervous system. It's been know to produce muscle spasms, seizures and even blamed as the root cause of Gulf War Syndrome. I was desperate! I bought two small spray bottles of OFF for Kids. This company wouldn't be marketing something dangerous to kids, would they?

The first time I used it, the tiny liquid particles left in the air entered my nasal passages and stung hard. I started to sneeze compulsively. The good thing was I didn't get any bites after that. I continued to use it but the smell was just awful and I kept sneezing every time I used it. I had to find something else. I went to Mannings and picked up some citronella patches and some OFF lotion.

The patches worked but not very long and if a strong breeze came I was outta luck. The OFF lotion was surprisingly effective. I went to inspect the percentage of DEET in the product to compare it with the OFF spray which had 7%. (The FDA doesn't allow any product to be sold with over 30% DEET.) I couldn't find it listed. Then I looked closer and discovered that it doesn't have any at all. In fact it's made of "plant based essential oil." That's amazing!

I had to find out what it was so I turned to the internet. It's eucalyptus. Mosquitoes are naturally repelled by the scent of the tree. Not only is it a good insect repellent, it's been know to have a myriad of health benefits, like fever reducer, relief of congestion, and anxiety plus more. The synthetic chemical menthol is supposed to imitate the properties of the natural chemicals found in the eucalyptus oils. The eucalyptus tree has suddenly become my favorite plant in the world.

Conversation spoken through our smiles.

Ian Wright: Hi, well, you're looking very nice tonight.
Me: Oh, why thank you. So are you.
Ian: Who's that guy over there? (looking at the man holding the camera.)
Me: Oh, he's my boyfriend.
Ian: Has he got any hair under there? (referring to the porkpie hat Malcolm got two days previously)
Me: Yea, he's got plenty of hair under there.
Ian: You sure about that because anyone wearing a hat like that can't have any hair. ... Oh hey, big guy.

7 pm JW Marriott

Yesterday I walked out of the house wearing my new Betsy Johnson dress and Zara sandals that I purchased specifically for this occasion and was off to the salon in Central where I was to get my hair and makeup done. (I'm such a dork!) I've never gotten my makeup done nor even really done it myself; I don't even really know how to put makeup on for that matter. But if I was going to potentially be on TV, I wanted to look good.

The people in the salon were polite, but perhaps overly polite, like the kind of polite one would be if this were their first time doing it. Oh no! I just kept hoping that I wouldn't come out looking like some hooker hanging around the streets of Monkok. But no, the ladies were good. Fiona, the woman treating me, was like an alchemist in her laboratory, mixing and concocting different colors in order to make me BEAUTIFUL. And that's exactly how I demanded it too. For over an hour, she brushed, smeared, dabbed, drew, plucked and retouched. It was really something. I couldn't imagine doing this every day especially since through most of it she had me close my eyes. When she finished, I looked in the mirror and saw subtle changes, enough to notice there was a difference but I wasn't a completely different person. I was content.

So it was off to Pacific Plaza where the hotel was located. We had an hour to stroll around in the mall which was fun because we went into those ultra chic top end stores which I normally would have never entered but because we were dressed well, it felt like we were in our native habitat. 7:00 came and went, we actually ended up getting lost in the mall. We eventually found the Marriott, then the correct conference hall, where I presented my award letter in exchange for some Discovery Channel travel bags. The room was nearly filled; most people were eating food acquired at the marvelous buffet set up in the back of the room. There were slightly fewer than 150 chairs set up for the audience. There was a small stage with two screens on either side promoting Ian's new show VIP Weekends.

The next hour was spent chowing down on The most delicious food including Mongolian spiced rack of lamb. Mmmm. Then before I knew it he was walking down the aisle, everybody cheering him on. He got on stage where he introduced himself and then delivered some hysterical travel stories. Afterwards, he answered some questions one of which I found rather interesting. "Do you actually stay in the places (hostels) they film on TV?" "Uh, no not always, and there's always a bit of guilt involved in that." Lastly, there was the picture taking session. We could use our own camera or have a Polaroid taken. I got to exchange a few words with him, had my picture taken with Ian Wright, shook hands with him and said good-bye. All in all, I went home feeling like I had a pretty good night of free entertainment (disregarding the cost of that new dress, new pair of shoes and the afternoon at the salon).

Do you know this guy? Ian Wright, travel host of Globe Trekker, is coming to Hong Kong. Photo courtesy of Globe Trekker website.

Dinner with Ian Wright

Okay, so it's true that I spend quite a bit of time in front of the computer watching TV. (I got this great TV card for my PC. It's fan-fu@$in-tastic. I don't have to spend money on another ugly box, yay!) But coming from Taiwan where I didn't even have a TV for 3 years and moving here to Hong Kong where Broadband Internet and Broadband TV come together like a married couple has changed the way I spend my evenings. I'm so hooked on these silly travel shows on the Discovery Channel. I don't know if you've ever heard of the show Globe Trekker but it's one of my favorites. Unfortunately, I'm not able to catch it very often because I get home from work too late. But anyway, I'm a big fan of one the travel hosts, Ian Wright. A few weeks ago, Discovery began advertising Ian Wright coming to Hong Kong to do a show here as well as a contest to have dinner with this guy. I thought, "That might be pretty cool, not that I have much of a chance of winning since this city has a population 6.8 million people and this contest is being broadcast on Hong Kong television but I'll give it a try." I went to the website several times, couldn't find the application, had to watch the 10 second commercial a few more times to get the exact website, found it, wrote a 30 word speil about why I liked Ian Write and clicked send. That was about a month ago and shortly after I forgot about it.

Last Friday evening, a woman left a message on my voicemail while I was in class. It was in Chinese so I quickly took it to be telemarketing. I was about to delete it but at the last second I heard something about Discovery Channel and decided to save it and have a friend translate it for me. Saturday passed without notice. Then on Sunday when I was sitting in a cafe I saw someone at the table next to me check their message on his Blackberry. I thought, "Oh yeah, I've got a message. I'm gonna listen to it again." That's when I thought I understood I won the contest. I must have listened to it twenty times before I asked the server at the counter to help me translate it. My assumptions were correct. I did win and the woman who called me requested that I call her back on Monday.

I've been invited to the JW Marriott in Hong Kong to have dinner with Mr. Ian Wright on Thursday evening at 7:00. Oh my God! You see, messages in my mailbox are only kept for three days and had I waited much longer, the message would have been deleted and I might not have ever known I won. I'll keep you updated on what happens next Thursday.

Theatre Street in Central, Hong Kong. I absolutely love this picture. I used a new film, Kodak black and white CN 400 which accepts chemicals normally used to develop color film. I think it's a great film and will probably use it more often than my usual standard TMAX.  

Eating at Macau's famous Fernando's restaurant was definately the highlight of the trip. The prawns cooked Portuguese style were simply divine.

It was really interesting walking through the narrow alleys of Macau. No English at all; it's either, Chinese or Portuguese.

Old Chinese woman, probably a mainlander visiting Macau. 

Ruins of Saint Paul's Cathedral, Macau. I don't know what the distortion is at the bottom. The photo shop swears it's not them. Uh huh...

Now, a splash of color for you. Yellow wall in streets of Macau during the Chinese New Year holiday.  

Information booth in the Main Square, Macau. 

The Last Letter

After demanding why he felt he needed to go into my music school to ask for my schedule he wrote back saying this.

Linda,

The owner of the music school used to be one of my students¡¦ parents. But
a few months ago, somebody took over it. Since then, I have not been there
until today. I have got back some old feeling standing inside.

Can we have lunch or dinner some day in this week?
Can I make contact with you by phone?
KK

I then wrote saying that I had no interest in going out to eat with him. This was his reply.

Linda,

Ok! Thanks for your positive reply. I know what to do. Bye!

KK

Now this could mean one of three things. He's either decided to leave me alone for good or he's going to come after me with a knife or he's going to kill himself out of rejection. Let's hope it's the first of the three.

Cornered

Yesterday I had about a two hour internet session cleaning up my mailbox and sending e-mails that I've been putting off, including the one that was to tell off this weirdo who contacted me and refused to identify himself. I told him things like he had no right to use my personal information and that I was cutting off all correspondence with him since he refused to tell me how he got my info. I also mentioned that he was lucky that I didn't inform authorities about him harrassing me. Let's just say it was not a very nice message. After finishing up, I went out to get some dinner and groceries at Wellcome.

As soon as I walk out of the store a man approaches me and asks "Are you Linda?" The blood in my face drains and a low yes seems to make its way out of my mouth. "I'm KK." I'm thinking, "Oh my God! It's him!" But it's not the KK I previously thought he was. I was picturing this gross, dirty old man but he's not. He's really young - 20's maybe - and a complete dork not that I have anything against dorks since well, I'm pretty geeky myself. But he's got the complete stereotypical nerdy appearance - tall, skinny, glasses, messed up hair and a bad complexion. He asks if he can walk me home. I ponder the question. "That means that he'll know where I live. What do I say?" I start by asking him how he got my contact info and he says that he'll tell me on the way home. -I don't think so. You tell me now. He goes on saying that we met last year in October. Mmm. I still don't remember. Where? At Scott Island Learning Center. An alarm goes off in my head. I knew it. He must have gotten it from my resume with all my information on it. Scott Island is the one other cram school on the island. I remember walking in, handing a guy my resume and walking out in less than a few minutes.

We get to talking and he doesn't seem like such a bad person anymore so I let him walk me partway home. He tells me he plays the er-hu (a two stringed Chinese instrument, what a dork!) and asks if I play any instruments. I tell him that I'm taking guitar lessons on the island and then we part ways at my block. I enter the wrong apartment building unconvinced that he hasn't followed me and wait there in the dark stairwell for the next five minutes. Then I sneak out to go around the complex, down to the beach and up the stairs to my own apartment where I dart into the entrance way. I take a peak out the window. No one. I whip out my keys, open the door, slam it, and put the chain on. Sigh of relief.

That night I barely slept. This may be one of the strangest things to have ever happened to me. The next day I get another e-mail from Mr. KK.

Linda,

Hi, what are you going? Are you prastising the guitar? Now, the time is
17:30pm. I know you are going to Rejoice Music to learn guitar at about
19:00pm. Right! Why I know that is I have just talked to your guitar
tutor,
Raymond Cheung. He's very nice. So are you.

Can I call you through the phone?
Bye!
KK

My God! What a nutbar! This guy actually went into my music school, met my teacher before I even had a chance to and inquired about my schedule. There's about a snowman's chance in hell that he's going to get my number.

Congratulations Linda, you've got a stalker!

Remember when I first got here in Hong Kong? I was so lonely because I didn't know anyone. I missed my friends from Taiwan and back home in the States and wished constantly to make more friends here. Well, I must have wished too hard because just the other day I received and e-mail from someone I don't know.

Linda Hung,

How are you getting along? My name is, hm¡K, KK. I am a resident of Cheung
Chau. I work in there as well. I know you have been looking for a job.
Have you got one yet?

Hm¡K! Do you remember me? I think we have seen each other twice at least.
The last time we met was at a restaurant that is near the ferry pier. At
that time, I was having rice with steak and you were having Japanese
noodles, perhaps Wu Tung, for dinner. Have you evoked something special so
far? That¡¦s¡K.  I think you may know who I am at present. Right?

Actually, I like meeting friends from around the world. This makes me
understand more people whose background and culture are completely
different. Do you have the same interest like me? If so, please pick up a
pen to start building up our friendship.

I am looking forward to receiving your message. Byebye!

Truly

KK

Now, the intention seems genuine enough however, we must remember, I have no idea who this person is. How does he know my surname? How does he know my e-mail address? Had we formally met before because I had no recollection of it? I e-mailed him back asking exactly these exact questions. This was his reply.

Dear Linda,

Sorry! In that restaurant, there is a table for two only. The rests are
for four or more than that. In the evening 21/1, were you the one who sat at
that table enjoying dinner alone? If so, you are Linda and the last
message I sent was to the right place. Actually, can we be friends here?

KK

Notice he completely disregards my questions about how he obtained my personal info. The night before I received the first message from him, I did eat Japanese noodles by the ferry pier and ate at a table for two. However, he and I both acknowledge I was eating by myself! It creeps me out when I think that I was eating there while someone was eying me from across the room. I reply to this message asking the same questions from above. This is what he says next.

Linda,

I will tell you why I have got your name and e-mail. But I want you to
give me an answer if we can be friends first. Sorry! I am so straightforward.
It is my personality both merit and shortcoming.

The Chinese Year Festival is coming, what are you going to do?

KK

Now he's being really manipulative. I told him I would be his friend to satisfy him and demanded how he got my info yet again. I'm waiting for a reply. Perhaps, he is reading this as I wait.

Check out this website. You can share secrets by sending a postcard to this address.

My New Year's Resolution

It's a little late but here it is, my resolution for the year 2006.

To be as honest and true to myself and others as can be.

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
   --William Shakespeare

The Nuances of this Dialect

After almost three months here I've just now begun to understand how to properly thank someone in Cantonese. Unlike in English where "thank you" means thank you or in the case of Mandarin "xie xie" means thank you, Cantonese isn't quite as straight forward. For months I've observed that some people here say "duo jie" for thank you and others say "m-goi." In the beginning, I would say "duo jie" when buying something in the market but after I realized people would look at me strangely I changed over to "m-goi." Then, due to my often paranoid personality, I thought people were still eyeing me in an odd way so I resorted to saying both consecutively and then switching order hoping at least one of them would be correct. It got to the point where I simply couldn't stand it anymore so I had to repeatedly ask my coworkers how to say how to say this previously believed simple and basic phrase.

According to them, use "m-goi" when someone does something for you and "duo jie" when getting something from someone else. So, at the market when buying something, after the merchant gives you the change say "m-goi" because they provided a service, while they say "duo jie" because you've given them business. At least that's how I understand it. Then add "sai" to either one of them to emphasize what you've just said - "Duo jie sai" or "m-goi sai." Now that we've got all this cleared up, maybe I can get on with the more difficult stuff like saying excuse me.

The Way of the Cantonese

Hong Kongers are notorious for bad manners and seem to have a world wide reputation for being some of the greediest, rudest people on earth. This I may have to agree with on a certain level but we must understand that this is coming from a western perspective. When I go to the market and ask for something but the merchant doesn't understand what I'm saying, generally, the latter is the one who gets upset and starts to yell, "Heh?! heh?! What're you sayin'?!" Originally, I was, to say the least, a bit put off by this, but after a while, I just started to get used to it because whether I am a foreigner or a native Cantonese person, which many upon first site of me wouldn't be able to tell, the locals would treat me with the same "rude" manner because in their eyes it's not actually being rude. It's the way of the people.

The Cantonese are rough with each other on a day to day basis. It's normality. For instance just today my coworker Stephen and I were talking about something and Candy who helps out with the office work just kept interrupting our conversation, not once, not twice, but several times and in the end, we just gave up and the string of thoughts frayed. Stephen seemed completely oblivious to her interruptions but then again he actually grew up in Hong Kong and is used to it. It didn't really bother me either because after all she wasn't being rude on purpose. Now, I don't necessarily agree with the way the Cantonese conduct their day to day business but I accept it nonetheless. Life goes on normally as it has been doing for a very long time. This society functions perfectly well with all its six million "rude" people.

I am so lovin this album You Could Have It So Much Better. Get it now. 

Leaving Beijing

An e-mail account of my disastrous departure of China's capital city...

You will not believe what I am going to tell you. Well, remember that we parted at the bus station a little after 3 pm. The bus did not start moving until 3:25 and when it did, it was barely at a snail's pace the entire trip. It arrived at its final destination around 4:30. That final destination was supposed to be the airport, right? It dropped us off at the far side, behind that tarmac. I saw airplanes so I figured that it couldn't be far away. I decided to walk but had no idea where I was going. There was this greasy motorcycle dude hawking his services to drive me to the airport and I would have used him had he not been so unbelievably obnoxious. He just wouldn't leave me alone even after I started cursing in Chinese. I backtracked to ask a guard. He said that it was just over the bridge so that's where I headed.

What was over the bridge? More highways that went in the opposite direction of the airport. The only way for me to get to the other side was to jump down one level going the other way. I then, threw my bag down and jumped over this barbed wire wall onto a tuff of grass. There was a guard standing a little way off watching the whole thing without a wink. I asked him where the airport was and he pointed down the highway. There is no sidewalk. I proceed to run through on coming traffic down the middle of the highway, for there was more room to run down the middle than the side since there was also an underpass. I run for ten minutes down the highway along the traffic ramps that lead to the arrival and departure building. No taxi would stop. I'm sweating like crazy and finally find my check in counter around 4:50. Check in has already closed for my flight at 5:15.

I can't believe this. When I bought the ticket in Beijing, the agent specifically told me that this ticket could not be changed because of its cheap price. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I'd never missed a flight and didn't plan on it this time. But it happened. The good thing was that they had another one leaving at 8:05. I waited on one line only to be directed to another line to change my ticket. One woman looked at my canceled Taiwanese visa and was about to ask someone else when I told her it was the wrong visa she was looking at. That is how competent these ladies were at Air China. After being shipped around to different counters, the last one told me that the ticket could not be changed. My heart sank. Then she said that she would do me a favor this time but that it would be the last. I succeeded in getting a boarding pass without any additional charges. Boarding time was at 7:35. 7:35 came and went. I knew I was at the right gate because everybody was speaking Cantonese. I went up to the attendant around 5:50 to ask and she said boarding was in another 20 minutes. I thought, "But the plane should have already taken off by then." It didn't take off until 8:35 and didn't arrive at Hong Kong until around 11:30. I looked at my ferry schedule and the next ferry was supposed to leave at 2:20 am. I decided to take the bus as opposed to the high speed train and save 80HKD since time really wasn't an issue. I took my time walking to the ferry and when I got there around 1:20 I lay down on a bench next to the pier. It was 2:10 when I went in to get my ticket but I read a sign that said the next boat was to leave at three and the one after that was 4:15. I looked at the schedule and I realized I misread it. The ferry from Cheung Chau to HK left at 2:20 and the one I was supposed to take from HK to Cheung Chau left at 1:30. I didn't see the boat come because I was on the other side of the pier. Shit! I waited for the one at three got on and went to sleep. A half hour later, we arrive somewhere but it is not Cheung Chau. It's Peng Chau. It took the wrong boat! This never happens. All the boats that leave from this particular pier are supposed to go to Cheung Chau but because it's after midnight, all the boats use one pier. Ten minutes later we're at Lantau. I just back tracked to the island where the airport is located. Now I'm really freaking out because I think it's going to dock here until sunrise. A sailor reconciles my worries and says were heading back to Central (HK). Now I'm thinking that I won't make it back in time for the 4:15 boat. It turns out that the same boat goes to Cheung Chau after stopping in Central. I don't get back home until around 5am, 12 hours after I was to have left Beijing.