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.

In one of Beijing's hutongs, neighborhoods formed by old courtyard homes. 

Inside a hall at the Lama Temple in the northeast part of Beijing. 

It was a lot harder to get up there than I had previously thought it'd be. How they managed to built it is mindblowing.  

Jenn and I took a 100 Yuan taxi ride to this unreconstructed section of the Great Wall, Huang Hua or Yellow Flower.

Manual laborer in the village. 

In front of the internet cafe, downtown Chongping 

Shoe repair. Small village in Chongping outside Beijing.