Monday, September 28, 2009

Travel Update No. 2: Hong Kong-ing

I am a diehard Chinese patriot. I bleed the exact color of the Chinese flag. So I would usually be the last person to say something like this:

Thank God for British occupation in Hong Kong.

Sure, the redcoats converted half the native population into poppy-heads during the Opium Wars and were summarily owned by the Japanese during World War II, but they also saved a few million mainlanders from Communist Mao in the late 40s and 50s and served as China's only connection to the outside world until the 1970s. Much more importantly, though, the British taught the Hong Kong-nese how to wait in proper "queues".

Chinese people do not know how to wait in a line. It doesn't matter if they're waiting for a cashier in the mall, or for a stoplight on the street, or for a stall in a public toilet, they will run and shove and bounce and spit and generally maneuver themselves, with whatever means necessary, to get closer to their objective. It won't matter if you're as tall as Sun Mingming or have the countenance of a recently castrated bull, because they aren't trying to pick a fight. They just want, more than anything in life, to cut in front of you.


On the left: how to wait in a proper line. On the right: how Chinese people tend to wait in lines. Based on the size of that crowd, they're probably trying to order some KFC.

But if it's anyone who pretends to have manners, it's the British. And it took them nearly a hundred years but I think they succeeded in teaching Hong Kong people some etiquette.

So unlike a typical Chinese metropolis, drunk off its own economic success and staggering to keep up with its own progress, Hong Kong feels like an established business center, a cosmopolitan community, a mature and civilized big brother to the slightly obnoxious little siblings of Shanghai and Chongqing. You won't have to worry about rude, unshowered folks with head lice cutting you in line. Hong Kong is like New York, if New York didn't have all the hobos; it's like Los Angeles, if Los Angeles had a gorgeous harbor running through the middle of it; it's like London, if London had Chinese translations on all of its street signs.

To illustrate the cosmopolitanism of Hong Kong: If you know Cantonese, there will obviously be no language barrier; if you know Mandarin, there will also be no language barrier; if you know English, there will still be no language barrier.

To illustrate the stiff British-inspired culture: It was the middle of summer when I went. I wore the equivalent of a loose-fitting Speedo when I went outside. But everyone else wore long pants, vests, and shoes.


A typical Hong Kong couple demonstrating typical Hong Kong fashion. Note the dyed hair, the flimsy vest, and all the black. The outside temperature was about 700 degrees, and since I secretly took this picture with my camera at waist level, I've included a scientifically accurate scale of their heights.

The most important thing about the city, though, I have saved for last, and it's a point that I don't think I can ever emphasize enough. The food is so good. Go to any restaurant, eastern or western. Point to any item on the menu. And it will be absolutely delicious.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Travel Update No. 1: Sitting

The worst part about travelling is flying, and the worst part about flying is sitting. So before I left for my trip, I definitely was not looking forward to the five million hours of bad lumbar support, two millimeter leg room, the greasy guy with head lice in front of you reclining his seat into your mouth, and the sheer, insufferable boredom. I am, however, glad to inform you that significant progress has been made in reducing passenger discomfort.

I flew with Cathay Pacific, an airline that I've never heard of but who apparently won some Airline of the Year award a couple years ago, and it's easy to see why. First off, they have clamshell seats that slide down to recline (instead of reclining to recline) so you don't have to worry about head lice in your mouth. And secondly, not only does each seat have a private viewing screen, but you can also choose what you want to watch, whenever you want. Holy crap! I think I'm going to need a clean-up on Aisle 3 just thinking about that again.


Why there's a coat hanger button I have no idea.

There's movies, TV shows, news programs, music, and for those heavily brain-damaged among us who who want to intentionally bore themselves even further on an already insufferable sixteen-hour flight, there's also a program that tracks the plane's progress on a very, very, very, very slow-moving map of the world. It shows you all the information that a sane person would never want to know, like how the temperature outside the plane at 11,215 meters while travelling at 701 mph is -50 C and that you're still exactly 420,398 miles from your destination ten hours into your flight.

The entertainment selection probably sucks, you say? I assure you, with a library of classic movies like Shawshank and Space Odyssey to new releases like Star Trek and Watchmen, plus episodes of everything from 30 Rock to House to Family Guy, you'll feel like Kirstie Alley in a candy store, or a Catholic priest who just got hired as a substitute teacher for the local kindergarten. So no longer do you have to pass the time trying to sleep in a painfully contorted pretzel, you can now pass the time watching Vin Diesel beat up Mexican drug dealers.

For each movie that I remember watching, or that I didn't fall asleep in the middle of, I shall now attempt a 140-character, Twitter-esque review:

X-Men Origins: Wolverine
Fun. Exciting. EXPLOSIONS. I want Wolverine's powers. EXPLOSIONS. Hugh Wolverine Jackman is a badass. EXPLOSIONS.

Ocean's 13
More of the same Ocean's formula. Which means more wickedly cool and unbelievably suave good bad guys.

God of Gamblers
Classic HK comedy, Chow Yun Fat + Andy Lau being idiots = hilarity. Monty Python fans will like.

And finally, my groundbreaking attempt to review two movies in one Twat:

Push/Fast and Furious
Horrible acting. Hilarious special FX. Cheesy stories. White guys beat up mex/black/chinese baddies. Hot girl leads who look really alike.


On the left, Jordana Brewster from Fast and Furious; on the right, Camilla Belle from Push. On a small screen ten hours past your usual bedtime they start looking exactly the same.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Holy Crap I Died for Five Weeks

I was considering posting an apology here for not only not posting recently but also for not posting about not posting beforehand, but I won't. Because I have two very good reasons why my last entry was sometime in the Paleozoic Era: 1) H1N1, and 2) Damn Commies.

I embarked on a circumnavigation of half the globe sometime back in the middle of August, and along the way I got swine flu in Hong Kong, hospitalized in Dubai, reverse altitude sickness coming out of Tibet, and blocked from Blogger (along with 90% of the internet, and 99% of the internet's good parts) in China. Hence, not being either Jesus or Chuck Norris, I realized I'd have no choice but to leave you with a picture of a lovely deep sea angler for the past few weeks.


This route only includes where I stayed for at least one night. Curvy lines were flights, that dotted line was an overnight train ride. For big version, click on the picture or here.

I arrived in LA just yesterday, and though listening to the trilled "rr"s and long "o"s of the native language here did feel oddly comforting after a month of non-Latin, the best part about being home, by far, is coming back into the arms of pop culture. Serena Williams. Kanye West. Obama calling Kanye West a jackass. Thank you Lord for blessing us with such entertaining black people. So as soon as I catch up on the month of Youtube and MTV that I've missed, I'll perhaps update you with all the details of my trip. In the mean time, here's a pictorial lesson, from yours truly, on how to sleep in the airport when your red-eye flight has been delayed five hours, while simultaneously guarding your carry-on items from terrorists and thieves.


Hint: tie some of your bags to your wrist. With a flowery, yellow ribbon.