Thursday, 27 August 2009

Explore. Dream. Discover.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
(Mark Twain)




The view out of my window. Laaaaarvely.

I've left this a bit longer than I meant to, but here it is, my first few days in Hong Kong. I know you were on the edge of your seat waiting for this, and that the anticipation was unbearable, so I will now relieve it. I've done a lot over the last few days, but most of it is un-interesting settling-in stuff so I will try and skip most of that out. Anyhoo. Enough rambling about what I'm going to ramble about in this entry.
Sunday
Sunday was exploration day! Hong Kong takes a bit of getting used to. For a start, the humidity is intense. It's not sunny, but it is very hot (averaging 32degrees C) and very close. You feel as though your lungs have become a sponge, and wearing anything more than shorts and a vest would probably kill you. Conversely, everywhere indoors is air conditioned to the point of freezing. You never get used to this massive change in temperature, and walking back outside is like walking into a wall of heat. Katerina handles it slightly better, being American and used to a climate where it doesn't hail in the middle of summer. Katerina lives on the floor below me and is lovely so we have sort of become a team. To the point where everyone assumes we knew each other before we came. We didn't, we're just both awesome and that. She might at some point do some guest blogs on here. Oh, and we're sharing a Flickr account, which gets updated a bit more frequently than this. It has all our pictures on - http://www.flickr.com/photos/redpandattack. Our first trip out wasn't too adventurous, we just went to Fu Tai shopping centre, which is about 5 minutes walk away, to stock up on essentials and see what was easy to get hold of. The shopping centre is pretty basic, there is a small homeware shop where you can get mugs, mirrors, coathangers etc, a pastry shop, cheap shoes/clothes, a little supermarket and some restaurants/cafes. We decided to get breakfast in one of these establishments, however we definately did not pick the right one. I should point out at this point that we were the only non-Chinese people there, and that this generated a lot of interest from the locals. Oh, and that although they speak English in Central (Hong Kong Island) they do NOT speak English anywhere else. Mandarin is also useless. Not that I speak it anyway. So, we are in this cafe. The menus are in Cantonese. Our waiter only speaks Cantonese. Katerina is trying to explain that she wants something without meat (she is vegan. This is pretty alien to the Chinese, who eat steak with a side of chicken for breakfast). The waiter phones his sister, who speaks a bit of English. Still no luck. We go for french toast and tea, which is one of the few things translated on the menu. Katerina downgrades from vegan to vegetarian. OH. And here is a warning. When you go into a restaurant or cafe, you are given a glass of what looks like hot tea. DO NOT DRINK THIS. It's to clean your chopsticks with. I was probably about 30seconds from being seriously ill, when I noticed what this was actually for.

Then we go to the supermarket, and stock up on fruit. The fish counter is particularly interesting. You think those fish lying on crushed ice in wherever you shop look pretty nice and, more importantly, fresh? China has tanks of fish. Alive. You point, they kill. How's THAT for fresh. I kind of expected this. The bag of live frogs, I'll be honest, less so.

After dropping our stuff back at the Hostel, we decide to try and get to Tuen Mun city centre. We know we need to get the 46, and that we need to have the exact change. This seems super simple. But, like everything, it's not if you're not used to it. In England, you get on the bus and tell the conductor where you want to go. He then tells you how much you need to pay, and you give him the appropriate amount. In Hong Kong, the bus has a standard fare (in this case 4HKD) and you just put the money in this metal box thing. If you don't have the right change, for example you only have a $5 coin, you just lose that extra dollar. This is fine once you have done it once. But the first time, he is talking to you in a language you don't understand, and pointing at god knows what.

We get off at what we think is Tuen Mun Plaza (it later turns out, it's not) and wander round some shops, and laugh at the Chinglish t-shirts. We manage to buy some food (everyone here is very friendly, and go out of their way to help you out, even though they don't understand you), and then decide to walk back to the university. Thirty minutes later we are very lost. The map is useless, because we don't know where we are. We walk up and down and in circles and down some slightly seedy streets. This takes up a good forty five minutes. We find a little pagoda, some nice pastry shops and a cattery. The cattery provides some light relief as within it lives a cat with a supiciously large head:

Being inventive, we name him "Suspiciously Large Headed Cat". I like him. He is my friend. He entertains us for a whole five minutes. We then admit partial defeat and ask for directions. Taking the bus is too much of a dent to our pride. Another thirty minutes of walking in the stifling heat and we are back at the university. Hurrah!! A cold shower, a cup of tea and a very large glass of water recovers me enough to have another wander around the campus, namely in the direction of the vending machines. There, I find these delights:

I LOVE whoever thought of naming the company "Want Want". They are both delicious and entertaining. I am now addicted.

Night falls over Lingnan. 1am. The view out of my window gets that little bit better. Not in shot: limbo dancing competition. No lie. The attitude to life and fun here constantly astounds me, and in the best possible way. I don't always understand it, but I ALWAYS enjoy it.

This was supposed to cover everything I have done up until today, but it is late late late, that took longer than I thought and I am tired from further adventuring. I will tryyy and get it done tomorrow. Sorry and that. I am pretty sure you will get over it.

Sunday, 23 August 2009

Hot Knives

"She went to see a Mystic who made medicine from rain
And gave up her existence to feel everything, dream others' dreams
Bid farewell to her family with one ecstatic wave (Please take care I love you all)
Out the window as the car rolled away
She just vanished into a thick mist of change"
(Bright Eyes, Hot Knives)

Twenty hours, two planes and a few tears later, here I am. HELLO TUEN MUN, HONG KONG. You are hot and sticky and humid, and although very beautiful, your residents keep giving me funny looks. Went to the shopping centre today and Katerina and I were the only non-Chinese people there. But I get ahead of myself. Back to the journey. Back to Friday 21st August.

It is 3pm. I have to leave the house no later than 4pm to catch my plane. This means I have an hour to pack my handluggage, shower, eat, and generally finish sorting out my life. While this is possible (with help from Dad and Liz), I would not recommend it. Major stress ensues. Somehow, however, I manage to get there on time. Because I'm flying with BA, they have this nifty thing where you check in online 24 hours before and at the same time print your boarding pass. This means all you have to do at the airport is do a speedy bag drop off (you can get your bags automatically checked onto your next flight), say a (less ecstatic, more slightly tearful) goodbye to your loved ones and then get through security. This is what my life has been compressed into:








I get a few good omens for the trip - I find £5 on the floor, and the security man is extra nice to me because we share the same birthday. No full body searches for me! One free newspaper later I am on the plane for a short hop down the country to Heathrow, a journey of approx. 50 minutes. It's not long but you still get complimentary sandwiches and a drink. I opt for tea...the 90year old woman next to me in full safari get up goes for a Bloody Mary. I feel decidedly un rock and roll. Our flight was slightly delayed so we have to circle over London a few times before they can find us a slot. The pilot makes us totally forgive this by giving us a mini guided tour: "And on the right, you can see The Houses of Parliament. It was raining before, now it's quite nice. Barbeque weather even." A nice farewell to England.


But before I can leave England, I have to suffer Terminal 5. Yes, it's very pretty and all, and I do love the "The Future is NOW" ethos (I have to ride on a train to get to my gate. I'm impressed. And there are lots of tunnel-y bits, which is always cool) BUT I get lost twice as the signs are tiny/unclear and they send us through to the plane too early, before the doors have been opened, and you end up with a lot of people in a very small place wishing they were still sitting down.


Then my nice, long-haul, 16hour flight. Not a lot to say about this other than the food is not amazing but okay for plane food, and the selection of films and music on offer is pretty good. I eat my dinner, watch X Men Origins: Wolverine (http://www.digitalpimponline.com/strips.php?title=movie&id=468) and then have an awkward few hours sleep. I wake up over China and in no time at all I'm on my way through their security and Swine Flu screening. As far as I can tell, this involves waiting forever in a massive queue and then handing over a piece of paper that says "No swine flu here, guv'nor". The nice lady at the counter tells me that as I am classed as a resident, I could have gone in the teeny-weeny 5 people long line. I resist the urge to kill her.

I swan past the sniffer dogs, collect my case, and settle down with a cup of tea and a book for my four hour wait until pickup.

Two hours later, I realise I definately shouldn't have had the second cup of tea, as I am now desperate for the toilet. The trolley with my luggage does not fit in the toilet. I don't know anyone to watch it. I cannot hold it in for another 2 hours. Thus, what followed was a wonderful five minutes in which I dragged as many bags as possible into the cubicle, leaving my case in front of the door, and then tried to pee whilst looking under the door for feet approaching my case. Not that I know what I would have done if any had.


Anyway. I eventually meet up with everyone else, they seem very nice, blah blah, I am the only person from England but one of the people from Lingnan lived in Bristol for a while. Then it's a coach ride to the campus where I befriend Katerina, a lengthy wait to check into the halls while everyone's temperature is checked, a quick unpacking (I don't have a lot of stuff, and there isn't a lot of space) and an explore around the campus at midnight. Before we leave, a great moment where we discover the security guard knows no English. We try and explain where we're going, he leads us down a corridor then realising that's not what we mean mimes riding a bike. One laboured mime of walking and 10 minutres later, we're out. The architecture is amazing (I will take some pictures soon) and there is a lovely pool and lots of feral cats. One has the smallest head and the biggest eyes of any cat I've ever seen. It also has only half a tail. Perhaps the eyes are meant to be a distraction. Back to the room and I'm in bed by 1am, on a mattress that is 2inches thick and has the consistency and comfort level of a plank of wood. Luckily, I'm so tired I fall straight to sleep to the hum of the air conditioning.


Thursday, 20 August 2009

The Beautiful Journey

"You are leaving home. You don't know if you will ever return. You are part of an exodus into an unknown future. Pack a small, portable box or suitcase...Think quickly: you don't have much time. Pack lightly, you are a nomad now. We are leaving..."
(Bill Mitchell / Mercedes Kemp, The Beautiful Journey)

SO. It is the night before my flight. One more sleep in my own bed, WITHOUT a room-mate, one more day being woken up by the dog, one more morning opening my curtains to the blue, blue sea. I need an entry describing the logistics of the trip, how this all came about. This will not be that entry. Emotions are running high, and I am conscious of the fact I haven't actually got there yet...

Anyway. I have spent the last two weeks saying goodbye to everyone. And have discovered that no matter how many times you say bye, it doesn't actually sink in that you are not going to see them for SIX MONTHS. My brain refuses to accept it, and just placates itself by going "Oh no it's fine, you'll see them at the next gig or whatever". In addition, discovered that you cannot see everyone you want to, no matter how much you try to timetable your life. The old cliche...there are not enough hours in the day. I have decided that next time, I will just not tell anyone. It would make everything much easier. I can avoid the late night calls that twist my stomach and make me question if it will be worth it or if I will ever stop missing these people. I've had so much fun and done so many amazing things recently that part of me doesn't want to go, doesn't want to miss six months of being a total idiot like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PM4lAkpfSFk , with people I know better than I know myself. Probably unfunny to everyone who wasn't involved, but it still nearly reduces me to tears every time I see it.

Farewell hugs are heartbreaking. You just can't convey years of friendship and shared memories, can't express how much you love someone, in an embrace. And it's the hardest part, knowing that you can't share all your new experiences with your nearest and dearest. Photos and words don't come close to describing everything. Which kind of makes me wonder why I'm even bothering trying. All I know is that I know very little, that I will soon be a little fish in a very big pond, and that this will either leave me a dribbling wreck with agoraphobia, or it will make me able to tackle anything life can throw at me. I'm absolutely terrified, but at the same time I've never felt more alive.

So, time to sleep, here's hoping I wake up without that little knot of worry in my stomach, that I am trying so very hard to ignore. It's slowly being overtaken by excitement and curiosity. Fevered dreams ahead!