February

The air is thick and heavy, the sky, a morose grey fog. The sun’s light is barely visible through the opaque atmosphere and can only be seen as a dull glowing halo around the massive pillars of concrete, steel and glass that comprise the Hong Kong skyline. It's mid February and unseasonably warm, but, characteristically humid, as if the clouds themselves reached down to the surface of the earth to suffocate this island. The locals don’t seem to take notice of the change in weather, donning pink North Face down jackets and knee-high, glittery UGGs to make their commutes from home to work. I push the sleeves of my sweater up past my elbows and adjust my bags on my shoulder with a grunt of exasperation before shoving through the endless crowds of people and onto the escalators. My mind is blank, my stare is blank, I barely put forth enough effort to remember to step off the moving stairway and glance down the street before crossing. This time I’m lucky I looked; a red taxi with little regard for the pedestrians that he earns his money from speeds down the street that is crowded with people smoking before they have to return to their offices after lunch. The cheerless atmosphere seems to sense my resentment for its ill treatment of my body and a new layer of smog rolls in over the mountains. I’m breathing heavy and can feel my temperature rising. The moist creases of my elbows catch a breeze and I’m brought back to this reality. One more escalator. One hundred more people. Finally, after being jostled and bumped more times than I can remember, I’ve reached the top of the hill, SOHO it’s called; a string of little restaurants and even littler shops selling things that only the rich or the mildly insane might want to purchase. Gwailos make loud conversation and shriek with laughter that is only meant to draw attention. Who do they think they’re on display for? Business men walk briskly down the hill past the little old garbage ladies dragging their heavily laden trollies up to gather just a bit more rubbish before turning in their spoils for pennies. My head is pounding and the ache in my neck has returned with a vengeance. I shift my bags to my other shoulder and stroll down the little street towards my shop, my little piece of Faux-Italian respite from the streets and the noise and the people of this city. I sigh knowing that the hours are going to drag on in an infinite manner. I just want, I just want…

December

I sit in the sunshine on the court yard steps this morning after I've finished opening the restaurant. The weather is fair and cool, but this Asian sun still relays considerble heat when you sit in just the right, breezeless spot. I am alone. I close my eyes and, in one brief moment, the bustle of Hong Kong slips away. For one moment this city of millions is silent but for the call of a bird, hiding on a quiet ledge overlooking this human world. I listen to the call. It is piercing, tropical, dense and bored. I immagine what it must have been like for the early explorers to wander through this land with the calls of the wild thundering down upon them. Explorers who, when they first set foot on this island, were swallowed by a jungle of thick underbrush and towering forest rather than by the dense undergrowth of pedestrians and traffic congestion and a jungle of concrete high rises as exists today. I decide to myself that those explorers wouldn't have had any idea of how to process what Hong Kong Island is today. They would have run off in terror at the alien society of modern Hong Kong and never spoken a word of it to anyone. My thoughts return to the present as the dishwasher at the small Cantonese restaurant upstairs begins his work and the clink and clatter of plates meeting metal chopsticks in the washbin echo between the buildings that have created this little haven. A diesel delivery truck grinds its way up the street outside and sends off a blow of its horn to indicate his dissatisfaction with the traffic preceding him. Its a whole new jungle now.

The Muslim Cemetary

As I had mentioned in a post far too long ago, I have wanted to visit the Muslim Cemetery on Wong Nai Chung road in Happy Valley. As I am nothing near a computer genius and all my attempts to take a screen shot of this map have failed (yes, I googled instructions and tried several times) here is a link to the map; http://tinyurl.com/muslimcemeterymap .  (As you can see, the Muslim and Catholic Cemeteries are in the center, Wong Nai Chung is the big road on the right hand side of the cemetery, the Hong Kong Football Club Stadium is in the middle of the Happy Valley Racecourse along with several other athletically inspired clubs and stadiums as open space is a commodity on this tiny little island. I live about a 10-15 minute walk away from this spot.) This cemetery is immense and the map doesn’t quite do it justice, and the fact that it is right next to the Catholic Cemetery, makes its presence in person undeniably surreal. Graves scale the sides of little mountains and the amount of people buried in such cramped plots can literally be jaw dropping. I spent an hour and a half walking through the landings and up the stairs in 32 C heat and maybe was able to see a third of the entire cemetery.  Huge.  Here are some of the photos that I was able to take; enjoy!

"Beware of Snakes" was literally the first thing I saw upon entering the gate

Someone had decorated their children's graves with samples from a tile store

The Mosque

A gift planted to keep the grave of a loved one company

Pomegranates in the Nature

I have several other photos which I wanted to share, but due to the fact that they're portrait rather than landscape formats, this blog photo uploader wont allow me to upload them correctly...  I don't know what I'm doing wrong, it used to upload portrait formated photos, but now it tries to upload them as landscapes and I cannot stand a photo that should be upright laying on its side... So, if you have any idea how I might be able to fix that little issue, please let me know! Thanks.



Street Art: China Style

As I'm an avid street art fan, I've been looking for some here in Hong Kong since I arrived here almost three months ago.  The other night I stumbled upon this alley, or rather was pulled behind Nicholas through it on our way to meet friends.  But I'm glad that it was found nonetheless.  Here are a few shots I was able to take this afternoon. Enjoy!

lets talk about Jusco

It’s a stunningly beautiful afternoon in Hong Kong today. Warm and sunny but not too humid and the air quality seems better than usual (maybe?). I have the day off and decided to run around and try to pick up a few things for the apartment that we still haven't been able to pick up (a bed pad of some sort to mask the irritable springs that inevitably find their way into our backs at the most unappreciated times, some plates, an extra set of bath towels, you know the deal.) After a quick stop at G.O.D. (Goods of Desire, they carry a deliciously soft mink blanket for $12,000 HK but they don’t have a bed pad) and a breeze through Muji and Japan Home Center, I was still out of luck for most of my errands.  So, before a trek to IKEA I decided to get lunch at Pakora, a fast-food Indian food joint around the corner from our place, and mysteriously and magically, through a never-before-seen doorway in an inconspicuous part of the building wall a Jusco appeared!  Jusco is a sort of Japanese convenience store in that you can get anything you could possibly think of needing there.  Some are more like department stores, when there’s more space and include a full, ridiculously large grocery store as well.  I was first introduced to Jusco a few weeks ago when I began teaching nine hour shifts on Saturdays.  Jusco was the closest, cheapest, and most convenient spot to go grab some quick lunch on my break.  So, needless to say, I was pretty excited to find that I live around the corner from another such shopping Mecca.  I walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor to begin my exploration.  This Jusco has no real grocery section, but if you need spice packets for Indian, Thai or Chinese cuisine, this Jusco’s got it.  There was a rather large selection of school supplies offering pens and pencils in every imaginable color with every imaginable cartoon figure and every sort of binder, folder and pencil holder.  Jusco is also my one stop shop for household gardening supplies; I can get the dirt, the pot, the fertilizer and even a package of “Mystery Gel That Grows Plants!” a bag of brightly colored goop that I assume is added to said dirt in said pot and then allowed to grow… I can’t wait to try it out.  There’s also a large selection of household items such as cleaning supplies, random plastic storage containers, bath towels, plate ware, and so many other things.  I was particularly attracted to the large supply of artificial bamboo and flowers and supply of random children’s toys.  Some of the cute little Japanese knick-knacks were almost too hard to pass up.  I can tell you I’ll definitely be back to pick up some cutsie stuff to prepare a Love Package for my nieces back in the States.  Hello Kitty chopsticks anyone?  You would also find yourself in luck at Jusco if you needed a new collared shirt, collection of novelty socks, kitchen tools, or hammers and nails.  Jusco just plain rocks.

Hung Hom

Here to accompany my previous post are a few photos I snapped this evening after work.  You're lucky that I missed the 6:35 ferry and had to wait for the 7:05 one.  Enjoy!

North Point across the bay

People fishing on the pier

The rains are moving in

Just look at the crowds on this ferry!

Raining in Central but not in North Point

Ferry

I have to say, its pretty incredible to be able to see rain over one part of the island while a short 3 MTR stops away the skies are cloudy but not even near raining.  The mists rolling in over the water and gathering around the mountain tops warning us of the rains to come and bragging their ability to work in ways that we are unable to control.  Its also funny, in a way, when I get into the MTR and ten minutes later I get back out and the rain has already been and gone. 

Lunch Break on the Hung Hom Pier

The skies are clear today, by Hong Kong standards anyway. Between the clouds that cling to the bushy green mountain tops, I can glimpse a muted version of the bright blue hue that was so common back home. I miss that blue. I have traded my Midwestern skies for the South China waters that lap at the pier calmly and quietly this afternoon. One couldn't refer to this water as blue, or clear, or even dirty for that matter, but dense and dark and green and smoky, like a fine piece of jade. The pier is lined with fishermen this afternoon. Some have proper poles, but most simply have fishing line baited and dropped into the water. I really have no idea what they're fishing for; I've never seen anyone catch a fish or even seen a fish in the water larger than my thumb. Little sparrows are cautiously gathering around my feet, casting sideways glances at me to see if I have any food to offer them. I do not. They skitter along in search of a more promising friend and scatter abruptly as an old man scuffles by. On the other side of the patch of greenery that I'm sitting next to, there is a little old man sitting on a bench with two small birdcages. Two tiny, frantic birds that resemble goldfinches are frantically jumping from bars to floor to perch and back. I had heard of men gathering together at a designated spot to talk and smoke and let their birds soak in some sunshine and breathe some fresh air, but this is the first time I've even born witness. A constant breeze of the water makes sitting out in the humidity tolerable. And the air is fresh, by Hong Kong standards; I can smell freshly cut grass and the salt from the ocean. I wish I could capture the view of Hong Kong Island with a panoramic camera, for as densely populated, stark and urbanized this city is, the view is still lovely. The residential buildings of North Point stand tall and crowded right on the water's edge.  Bus after bus after car after car drive past my eyes on the busy highway in front of those buildings.  A ferry breaks the mostly quiet atmosphere followed by the grinding brakes of a city bus. One would never know, during the quiet times, that a bus terminus and bustling ferry port encompass this scene. I can see my neighborhood from here, my home of Causeway Bay. The sun would feel nice on my skin, if I could ever get myself to a beach or pool. I wish I could nap for the rest of my break here on this breezy pier on a towel in my swim suit. Quiet, clean, fresh, warm, peaceful.