Arrival
My room in McDonnell Street, can only be described by brevity, anything
else would do injustice to its construction. In a smaller than average
sized hotel room, (I stay in bigger hotel rooms in Pune) but there
is a bed, TV, sitting space, a sink a stove a fridge, a microwave,
a small table/board, a cupboard and lots of other storage. Oh I forgot
- a bay window. And it looks no more crowded that your average room.
Sunday…
Heres a sunday for you... woke up early (9 AM). Feeling good. Managed
to finish lazing for the day by 10. Slow newspaper (only the sports
section of course). Then off to my favourite spot in the service
apartment... the bathtub. Steaming hot water filling my navel and
all the spaces between my toes. Soak soak soak. Think about the
universe. About earth quakes in Turkey... Egyptian plane crashes..
Indonesian unrest... planned Pakistani executions...and about fantasies...
and about insecurities and bonds and bondages and fears and ...
so it's a long soak really. Sometimes I think you can really know
a person by his or her fears...
Cold
Nights and Stars
It comes around all so quickly. The week passes like a wind in a
tunnel. Chills me to the bone. And this is not just any old metaphor...
I stepped out of office particularly late one night... you could
call it very early if you wanted to quibble. I had to walk a couple
of hundred meters to the taxi. The wind rushing through the skyrise
tunnels at that time had no monoxide to distract it... and so it
came rushing at me and I now understand the meaning of the phrase
"chilled to the bone". Fortunately Taxis are ever present
as Hong Kong stays awake through the nite. In fact, you cannot see
a single star out there no matter how clear it is, because of the
light from the city. The price of progress... little children growing
up without being able to look at stars.
Shopping
I bought my Nike's Marathon Sports in Pacific Place. The staff at
the shop have been trained really well. They say hello and bye to
every individual who walks into the store or walks out. No matter
what the staff is currently doing, somebody will take the trouble
of saying "babaiiiii" and "helaaaw". I walked
in ... this sales girl said "helaaaw". Felt good. I said
hello back. I asked her what Nike shoes do you have. She said "babaiiii".
I said what? She said "helaaaw". I realised that there
were people walking in and out behind me. Taking advantage of a
lull in the traffic, i managed to try on 3-4 pairs of shoe. How
much are these? She told me. Do you take cards? "babaiiii"
"Can I pay at the counter?" "Helaaaaw".... I
paid and left with the babaiiii ringing in my ears... Also found
the Manhattan Transfer I've been looking for.. lucky he had only
3 cds. Of course the 4 tenor sax jazz album was only the icing.
Found a map of Hong Kong. Now I can be a Serious tourist. Could
have actually spent time with Hari and Mathur but decided to hang
loose by myself thru the day. After all, this is the penance. Shameless
self indulgence apart, theres a lot to be said about being by myself.
I'm good company. This week I also bought myself a couple of sweaters
- now I can be part of the urban winter chic at HK. Of course all
the stuff on display was grey and black but I decided to dress daringly
and chose a blue grey polo neck.
The
Sporty Lifestyle
I have managed to jog ... once. It was a significant victory over
lethargy. The fact that the place is very up and down... it made
my one and a half kilometres all the more meaningful. And somehow
I felt good about spending half a months salary on running shoes.
That's the good part of being a man. You can always see something
in the right perspective. For 3 days now, I have asked to be woken
up at 7 AM - a request, which I must admit the hotel has admirably
stuck to. The fact that I have not gotten out of bed till 9 AM on
any day has not dampened their spirits.
Food
Food by itself is an adventure in Hong Kong. I have become fairly
adventurous about food, which is very unlike me. In fact, I have
not eaten the McDonalds meal lunch on more than two days consecutively
even once. The other nite I ordered a plate of noodles in my room
after my first unsuccessful venture at microwave cooking. Halfway
through the meal I felt that some sauce would be good. So I walked
to the nearest departmental store and bought some ketchup. It made
the other half of the noodles taste much better. Then there was
this time when I went to a food court and had noodles with spicy
beef. It was a delicious soupy concoction. The place was crowded,
so I had to stand and eat not entirely unlike the Sukh Sagar restaurants
that pepper the landscape in any South-Indian city. Multiplied by
about 100 times for scale. Anyhow... I managed to finish the soup
with the soup spoon. That left the noodles and the beef. I could
see that there was a packet obviously with chopsticks in it... but
the mortification of manhandling chopsticks in public was a little
too much. Besides... there were two kids standing there... obviously
waiting for me to display my pathetic chopstick skills. I smiled
at them and ploughed thru with the soupspoon.
Culture
I am meeting Hari and Mathur again tonite. They are old friends.
Thanks to them I will see the full cultural diversity of Hong Kong.
Last weekend, we saw a Western Pub, a Filipino womens band and finally
an oriental strip bar. I can't wait for more cultural assimilation
this weekend. This week went bye too fast for my liking. Will try
and pack more adventure into the next week.
Unwinding
Saturday Afternoon: Pacific Coffee Company
Here in the relaxed shades of the coffee shop, its easy to feel
good about the world. Its easy to turn ones back on strife and despair.
To jettison ideas of fame and fortune and just allow oneself to
be sucked into the laze of the morning. This place is just correct
for bringing your magazine or book and catching up with all the
nothing that you've been wanting to do. They're serving fresh Costa
Rican brews and fresh smiles. There are people curled up on sofas,
others dragging deeply on their cigarettes as they discuss the state
of the world. Perhaps chicken prices in Shenzhen. Who knows? It's
a nice sunny day outside.
I
just saw one of my school friends walk by outside. No I didn't run
out after him. Its far too lazy a morning for that kind of thought.
Even thinking seem strenuous suddenly. Just cancelled a lunch appointment
so I can wallow some more in this little empty spot in time. Try
to keep the if only's out of my head and just focus on being…
Thought
for the day: Rod Stewart and Stevie Wonder are good for coffeeshops
in the way that Kenny G and Clayderman are good for elevators and
hotel lobbies.
Toilet
Training
I'm told that the Chinese are xenophobic. I don't particularly like
dismissing 1.3 billion people as Xenophobic. Its not good for the
planet. However there is surely evidence of restroom xenophobia
on the 30th floor of the IFC - where I work. There are common restrooms
for the 5 odd offices on the floor. These are kept locked for obvious
security reasons... never know when somebody will walk off the street
into the 30th floor rest room. As a rule offices have doors that
need you to flash a scannable card or punch in numerical combinations
to open. Each office maintains its own copy of the rest room keys.
So going to the loo has a very strict algorithm, which goes like
this.
Collect key for rest room
Hit button to release door lock
Walk to the loo
Use key to open loo
Remember to keep loo key safely on possession
Perform
Unlatch loo door from inside
Walk back to office
Flash card to unlatch office door
Return keys to their original place
There
are minor variations to this theme. For example, forget to return
loo keys to their slot. Return home and discover that they are in
my pocket. Wonder about what the others are doing right now in office.
Break into a cold sweat.
Red
Hat & I
Last weekend I went out with some friends who I hadn't met till
then. It's always good to do different things. After dinner we went
to Wan Chai and then to Lan Kwai Fong. If you read the last episodes
of my HKD, you will realise what a marked departure this is from
the norm, because all the other times we went to Wan Chai AFTER
Lan Kwai Fong. So then after hanging around a bit…we went to
a place called Red Hat. Where they wouldn't let me in because I
was wearing sneakers. Just think of this for a minute in perspective.
I've just spent half a month's salary on these shoes. They're spanking
new. I'm careful to dust off any speck of dirt that I see settling
on them. I walk carefully on the road in case they come into contact
with all the muck that seems to suddenly be all over the place.
Ever since I bought my shoes there's a lot more dirt on the road
in HK. But the bouncer at Red Hat treats me as though I'm part of
the dirt. And so unsettled, we sit outside. I'm already mortified
that because of me everybody's been prevented from seeing the inside
of what seems to be the raging hotspot of HK. I suddenly feel like
a rhinoceros in a ballet. Then the second wave of indignation comes
and washes over me. I mean… women are allowed to walk in with
anything. And I mean anything. The mathematical analogy of infinitesimal
jumps to my mind. But of course the bouncer does not know calculus
and so he lets in women who cannot be judged by the clothes they
wear simply, as they say, because there isn't enough evidence.
Interesting
Difference No 231: The Hong Kong way of getting a cab involves
getting into the cab first and then telling him where you want to
go. It takes a little getting used to coming as I do from a land
where one respectfully asks taxis and auto-rickshaws whether they
would be kind enough to drop one to ones destination in the event
that they were headed in the approximate direction.
Shermans
Yesterday at Lang Kwai Fong (where else???) we were enjoying ourselves
thoroughly at a bar called Shermans. We had seats at the door so
we were sitting almost on the pavement outside. It was smoke free
and lively. The band, called the Vixens, were doing a pretty good
job. I was on my 4th liqueur cocktail. Sipping on a combination
of Kahlua and white rum. When the urge to sing got the better of
me… so I asked the band to let me sing a song with them. Well…
to cut a long story short, I mumbled my way through 2 songs. And
among the teeming fans were 2 guys - a Briton and a Scot who seemed
to have a very refined taste in music and were nice enough to buy
me a drink. Of course it turned out that they were in a venture
capital firm working with Internet startup and of course that made
us blood brothers and by 2 AM we had fixed up a whole series of
meetings for the week. This will go down in my book as one of the
more innovative ways of business exploration. Thank you Joy and
Beth and Lindy.
Lang
Kwai Fong and the Gwailos
LKF has been a drinking hole for the white man of Hong Kong for
decades now. Perhaps centuries. Lan Kwai Fong originally means "the
place of the tottering ghost" - a not-too-flattering tribute
to the Caucasian drinking habits. Well when this became apparent
to her majesty's representatives, they subtly changed the way LKF
was spelt, which retained the pronunciation but used different words,
which have floral connotations. <Mathur thanks for the story
- even if it turns out sometime to be fiction, it's worth telling>
The white man is called Gwailo here in the same vein as the Gora
in Mumbai. And Lan Kwai Fong is teeming with Gwailos looking for
salvation on Friday night.
Children
& the Filipino connection.
Having children in HK is quite a traumatic experience apparently.
First it's expensive. You can kiss about ninety thousand dollars
goodbye. Frankly I would rather have a world trip or two. Then of
course you have the trauma of having your children grow up with
Filipino accents rather than the good old Indian one. This is because
in all probability you will have a Filipino help at home. All the
Filipino women who work around Hong Kong as household help make
their way to Exchange Square on Sunday and have a social outing
where they play cards and gossip and sing and shop. We're talking
about a few thousand people in little groups scattered across the
square and surrounding areas. There's an obvious class ridden society
in HK. It may be polite not to talk about it, except when you've
got a few under the belt on Saturday night, but its there all right.
Everybody has his or her place.
Coffee
Well I'm back in Pacific Coffee company. It's another Saturday and
its another cool and cloudy day. Too much chance of rain to complete
my plan of climbing the peak and I'm going to have to look at other
ways of spending the day. The couple at the bar just had a bet about
whether I was an investment banker or not. He had a valid point
- what other kind of person brings a laptop to a coffee shop???
To all my I-bank friends - let this be a warning to you. If you
ever needed a reminder about your stereotype! The woman was a little
more perceptive and felt that since I didn't have any papers strewn
around the table I was probably an author. I thanked her profusely.
Telecommunicopia
HK is a connected city. I've said that before. But human beings
have a problem - they don't know when to stop with a good thing.
So it goes with cell phones here. Couples can be sure they will
always be able to share that intimate moment with each other…
even as they rush from a client presentation to an investor meeting.
However this kind of thing is habit forming. So perchance, when
a couple ends up going out for dinner together, they suddenly find
themselves face to face and the experience is so unnerving that
they usually run out of words immediately. Some couples find their
way around the problem creatively. The lady excuses herself from
the table, pops out of the restaurant and calls the gentleman. Now,
in more familiar surroundings it's so much easier. Normalcy is restored
and the smiles are back. During conversational pauses, the lady
may come back in to pick at her dinner. Alternatives to this include
both partners sitting at the table and talking on their respective
phones apparently to other people, whereas in fact, they are invariably
talking to each other.
Answering
machines… the machine to make idiots out of people.
I'm not normally short of words. In fact, I'm often accused of continuing
a conversation well beyond the levels allowable by the situation.
The one time I do run out of words, is when I speak with an answering
machine. My voice cracks, words come out line little coughs, my
expression is at best embarrassed. I feel like the whole room full
of people are looking at me attempting to talk to a machine. Consequently
my voice modulation begins to resemble the dead sea on a still day.
Recently I made a call to a friend to ask if her journey home after
a morning of hiking with me was uneventful. However on getting to
her answering machine… all I could stammer into the phone was…
er… I… hope… you… got… home… safely…
Sure enough she called back to thank me for my concern and assured
me that she had indeed got home safely, every day for the past 9
years in Hong Kong.
The
Sex thing…
You're often told about how cultures are different. Management literature
has the distinction of making words like paradigm the object of
much ridicule. But the fact is that reality is really different
for different people and no matter how flexible you are, it always
catches you flat footed. I'm talking about fidelity. It is acceptable
in many societies of the world to have the occasional fling. Sometimes
it is the preserve of the aristocracy to have concubines. Hong Kong
has both and is proud of it. It is perfectly ok to visit a nightclub
and engage yourself with a lady of the night. I'm not trying to
be judgmental here. Let me rephrase that. I am trying not to be
judgmental here. It's just a different way of being. The leading
paper recently carried a story about the concubines of Hong Kong.
They also tried to be non-judgmental. But it slips out now and then.
Transactional sex is a way of life in HK.
So
I'm sitting at this bar. There are strippers performing 5 feet from
me on the stage. And there's a row of women sitting across the bar.
I'm sipping my Rum and Coke, trying to look normal. Of course its
not normal. I'm attempting conversation with my friends. All my
senses are completely alert. I could be drinking water for all you
know. Another night I'm at a place called Strawberries all by myself.
Contemplating a late dinner at the bar. It must be around 2 AM.
I'm nursing this cocktail, lost in pretty disconnected thoughts.
This woman comes to me and starts massaging my neck. Feels good.
She asks for a drink. A tequila. I oblige. She asks to dance. I
oblige. She wants to go and sit on the sofa… the red light
starts blinking. I know that drill. She wants another drink. I smile
and say no. She disappears. I go back to ordering dinner at the
bar…
Ready
for Kowloon?
The travellers guide missed this. In Hong Kong… all roads lead
to Kowloon. The average traveller may be excused for panicking under
the notion that he or she is being kidnapped and taken to Kowloon
instead. The blue sign pointing to Kowloon is the most ubiquitous
of all the HK icons for the tourist. Every street crossing has a
sign pointing to Kowloon. There are some with more than one. Kowloon
signs go where no man has gone before. Kowloon signs on the pavement
as you walk up the road… Kowloon signs on little alleyways
that reek of adventure. Kowloon signs under the flyover, Kowloon
signs on the flyover. Kowloon signs pointing into buildings. Kowloon
signs pointing into blank walls (ghosts need to see Kowloon too).
Most interestingly, at a crossing, Kowloon signs pointing down 2
of the 4 roads from the crossing (Kowloon and Kowloon West). I think
Kowloon signs are going to take over Hong Kong and we will soon
have Hong Kong renamed Kowloon East.
End
note...
As I pack up and prepare to leave, I look back over my shoulder
at the past 5 weeks and my not inconsiderable mind expansion. Did
I forget to include something? My trips into Beijing and Shanghai
fell through. I haven't been to Macau and Lantau. I haven't even
been to Stanley Market of the Night Market. So as a tourist, I've
been a bit of a failure. Next time perhaps. In the meanwhile, since
there are 3 days left, I should really buy that camera and take
some photographs of the place.
1999
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