Misadventures in Far Away Places 1
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Misadventures in Far Away Places 1 Misadventures in Far Away Places 2 Misadventures in Far Away Places 3 Misadventures in Far Away Places HONG KONG I’m running down a Hong Kong alley with three hooligans chasing me, yelling for help but nobody understands a word I’m saying. I open a door in the alley and find myself in the kitchen of a restaurant, the cooks and dishwashers with their mouths open, one cook uttering something I can’t comprehend. Then suddenly the guys chasing me burst in – I scramble through the restaurant; glass, soup bowls, and cockroaches flying, people screaming things out in Chinese… That’s when I wake from my dream; legs kicking around, my pillows on the floor. I’ve travelled to many places in my 35 years, but have never been to Asia. In actual fact I had never had any interest – I had always pictured the continent as overpopulated, its cities huge and dirty, its peoples industrious but kind of boring – too polite and always bowing, even if secretly conniving to kill you. I know this from having watched a lot of Jackie Chan movies. Everything seems so foreign to a westerner – just reading the names of places on an Asian map makes my tongue cramp up; Xinzuotang (China), Mahasarakham and Chauyaphum (Thailand), Kuala Kubu Baharu (Malaysia). The map of Hong Kong alone actually sounds like somebody swearing; Pok Fu Lam, Wong Chuk Hang, Chek Lap Kok (“You like I Chek Kok on Lap?) Just the language factor seemed to make Asia an impossible destination. Then there’s Asian history, culture, philosophy and etiquette – all so foreign. No, I would never have gone to Asia if it weren’t for the air points given to me by my mother. “Asia,” she said, “You’ve never been anywhere if you haven’t been to Asia.” Actually, I think my mom hoped that I would somehow get enlightened and come back a more spiritual person. Richard Gere had done it, she said, he had become a Buddhist. “Jeez Mom, Richard Gere? Is that the best you can come up with? The guy sleeps with whores. Didn’t you see Pretty Woman?” My first stop would be Hong Kong. That alone was intimidating. Over 7 million Chinese people live in Hong Kong – it has one of the highest population densities on earth with 6,700 people per square kilometre. It is known as a busy, economically thriving city. It was a British colony for 156 years. I also noted in my readings that it is famous for its cockroaches, big cockroaches, some of which fly (only the biggest ones though, if that’s any consolation). I actually heard that it was trendy for kids to keep cockroaches as pets in Hong Kong – I somehow imagined children getting dragged down the street by huge, drooling cockroaches on leashes. I started to wonder if Hong Kong was my kind of place at all. People and cockroaches aside, there is nothing romantic or legendary about it. Hong Kong was a barren island when the British forcefully negotiated it from the Chinese in 1840 – it would still be a barren backwater had its history not been altered by outside factors; 1) the 1937 invasion of China by Japan and 2) the 1949 Communist revolution in China. The population was only 600,000 in 1945, it has only really exploded into what it is in the last 58 years. So there’s not much in the way of history. There’s not much in the way of culture either – many complain that old Chinese traditions have been lost, that materialism is the only culture alive in the ex-British colony. So what would I get out of Hong Kong? Maybe not much. But how can one go to Asia and not stop off there? I’d seen pictures of the skyscrapers from the peak, the Chinese junks in the harbour, the seemingly billions of signs lighting up busy intersections. It is a famous city, the “Pearl of the Orient” (I later found out that most Asian cities claim to be “The pearl of the Orient). I had to see it. But I honestly didn’t expect much. I was quite sure I wouldn’t like Hong Kong. 1 Misadventures in Far Away Places I bought a nice backpack and sewed on a Canadian Flag (like every good Canadian), watched Jackie Chan movies to get an idea of what Hong Kong would look like, and read Lonely Planet over and over again. I even learned a few words of Cantonese; “Nehih ho ma” (Hi, how are you) and “Ge ih ho” (I’m fine). I got a kick out of the LP Hong Kong Guide: “Important phrases” you should know: “Ngoh to ngoh” (“I have diarrhoea”), “Ngoh yiuh wan yat waih nuhih yi sang” (“I’d like to see a female doctor”), also “Haih bin doh a…?” (“Where is the…?”) but there’s no list of words anywhere to finish the sentence. I started to worry when I couldn’t find the translation to ‘toilet’ – some people make it a point to learn ‘Hello’ in the local language, I make it a point to learn ‘toilet’. Which honestly comes out to about the same thing because it’s usually the first word I say when arriving somewhere (“Toilet. Where is toilet? No, the only thing I have to declare is a 5-pound load of airplane food lodged in my lower intestine …”) The days counted down and I was increasingly agitated and excited. I kept having those foreboding dreams of Hong Kong alleys though – people and cockroaches chasing me, running as fast as I can with a load on my mind and no toilet in sight… Arriving in Hong Kong – neons, highrises, & the YMCA There was an orange/pink glow in the sky when I had my first glimpse of Asia. More than 20 hours after leaving Montreal, the sun was finally getting lower in the sky, the colours a postcard against the blues of water and sky. Suddenly, below the right wing, was a huge barren peak, a bald, grey piece of rock jutting out of the South China Sea. The glow of the setting sun reflected upon it, the soft hues of the sky making the orange/pink precipice seem both beautiful and magical. The plane descended, more peaks on the right hand side, boats suddenly appearing below the wing. The flaps of the huge 747 flipped up and we dropped further still, large high- rises appearing to our right and the boats below (some of them those famous Chinese junks) seemingly close enough to touch. We appeared to be still above water when the wheels touched down, the thrusts reversed, and we thundered down a runway to a gradual stop. The runway ran alongside the harbour at water’s edge, large ships out in the bay with the sun setting in a cloudless dark-blue sky. It was beautiful. I had somehow pictured arriving in a crowded airport lobby full of babbling, shabbily-dressed Chinese people wearing large straw hats, all pulling at my sleeve and wanting to take me to some back alley with promises of Dim Sum and Lucy Liu. It wasn’t anything like that – Chep Lap Kok Airport is huge and incredibly modern. There’s a subway within the complex which brings you from the arrival gate to immigration. Planes take off above your head, you can see their underbellies through gigantic glass panes. The airport is cavernous, dome-like and airy. I suddenly felt like a poor country hick with my backpack and t-shirt. And the Canadian flag sewn to the bag – it suddenly reeked of insecurity (“Please leave me alone, I’m not American. We Canadians invented insulin, basketball, the green garbage bag and the zipper. We even invented the game of Yachtzee which you oriental people like so much…”) Within 10 minutes drive of Chep Lap Kok you see the first HUGE high-rises that seem to define Hong-Kong’s skyline. I stretched my neck to see out of the bus window and just marvelled that people could live that high up. The views must be great, but I would have perpetual fears of fires 2 Misadventures in Far Away Places and earthquakes. I would get constant nosebleeds, headaches and would probably never get over those dizzy spells I get when I’m too high up. I don’t know how people can live in such tall buildings. We were suddenly in the city. There is none of that slow progression from rural countryside to suburbia to city center that you get in North America. We were in an urban jungle; store after store, miniature by North American standards, cubicles in an endless stretch of concrete and glass. Neon signs hung from everything, bright neon lights in a mind-boggling assortment of colours and forms. Just looking at them was suddenly exciting. Childhood memories came to mind; those pleasant summer nights waiting for my father outside the strip joint while he finished his beer, the dancing neon outlines of naked nymphs illuminating the parking lot in a plethora of colours…Anyway, it took half an hour to make our way down the avenue, stopping at the millions of red lights, thousands of people crossing this way and that. This part of Hong Kong (we were on Nathan Road in Kowloon) brings to mind visions from science fiction films; huge, brightly-lit buildings, a giant, tightly-packed megalopolis ablaze, ant-like multitudes jamming the streets in orderly disarray.