The ones who used to sit

They came looking for 

me last night while 

I was traveling,

the ones who used to 

sit in my living space and 

breathe the same air as me

I saw them in familiar stations 

reading books under dim lamps

and cranking 

ice-cream on scarred linoleum

They sat in desaturated colors

on two long couches, speaking

in simple, unforced, conversation.

I don’t remember anything they said,

but they would smile when they spoke, 

even though they never 

looked up from what 

they were doing, busy.

The Hong Kongan Road

War is nothing like what happens on the roads of Hong Kong. Well, at least not compared to Honduras. Well, maybe Hong Kong is more like a British war, pre American Revolution, back when war was sport. I mean, I don’t know much about pre-American Revolution British war strategy, except what I’ve learned from Mel Gibson, BUT I DO KNOW THIS! People in England drive on the left side of the road, and so do people in Hong Kong –– one of the British Empire’s many gifts to this Chinese peninsula. And I don’t want to be culturally incentive or anything, but if you’re not driving on the right side of the road, what side are you driving on? Hm?

Traffic in Hang Hau, a suburb of Hong Kong.

Driving to the school from the airport, I was surprised with how civilized the traffic was. Roads weaved, bridged, and tunneled through densely populated hills and islands, still drivers respected lane markers, went a decent speed, and didn’t ride their horns.  

One thing did surprise me though, Hong Kong has some STINKING wealthy people, and luxury cars is commonplace. The road by the school leads to one of the few golf courses in HK and  it’s not uncommon to see Lamborghinis, Bentlys, and Masaratis rumble past. 

The intersection just outside the school gate. That's not a Lamborghini. 

They come on campus too. One Sunday, I came back from a grocery run in Hang Hau and the school driveway was lined with fully stacked Land Rovers. They looked ready for the Sahara, with water exhausts, and spare tires. (No, there is no need for a Land Rovers in HK). On another Sunday, the “Hong Kong Smart Car Club” had a meeting on campus. There were all different breeds of Smart Cars, some combining two of Hong Kong’s passions, cars and Crazy Birds.  

The Smart Car Club. Notice the second one with Crazy Birds on the hood.  

Mid-Autumn Festival

Lanterns at the church party.

A week and a half ago was the Chinese harvest festival. Since the Chinese calendar is lunar, this holiday always falls on a full moon. Several people shared with me different legends associated with this holiday. I don't think I got it all, but one was about a couple: a pretty lady and an intergalactic archer who had a neighbor with bad intentions. In the end the pretty lady drinks a special potion, becomes immortal, and then flies up to the moon. She's still there, and I could never find out what happened to her bow bending hubby. I'm not sure what that legend has to do with the festival, other than the fact that Chinese see a woman in the moon, and a rabbit –– still not sure how he got there.

Dorm Party in the gymnaz. Each lantern had a riddle under it. One was, "what animal starts walking with four legs, followed by two legs, and finally three?"

The festival has three main elements: family, lanterns, and moon cake. Family is celebrated with the full moon; just like the moon is complete, the family should be too on Mid-Autumn Festival –– maybe something like Thanksgiving. Besides family, everyone has lanterns. All different kinds of lanterns.

Toy Story and Angry Birds are traditional characters in Chinese mythology, older than the dragon. 

Another important part of Mid-Atumn Festival is moon cake. It's sort-of like fruit cake: it's a festive dish, it's cake-ish, and it's dense. There are some differences though: moon cake doesn't have any fruit, and people actually like it.  It comes in personal pan sizes, about the size of a horse shoe and a similar weight. The cake is made of a semi-sweet sesame seed paste with hardened goose-egg yokes inside. Oh, and another similarity to fruit cake, moon cakes are recycleable. If it doesn't get eaten on the first go around,  it can be stored in the pantry and gifted to someone next season.

I got to celebrate this holiday three times: a dorm party the week before, a church party on Saturday evening, and then downtown on the night of. There was a "Fire Dragon" dance in Victoria Park.

The Fire Dragon was a 100' weave filled with incense sticks. A string of people held it above their heads with poles and made it live. This is a picture of the head. 

The Hunger of a New Place

The stomach is a kind of travel barometer. The way your stomach is handling food can gauge the climate of your trip. Now, that’s not always true. One time, my stomach-meter was indicating that lighting could strike at any moment, but my trip was still going well. And thanks to the patchy english of a Jordanian pharmacist, things were back to normal in a couple of days. Another story I heard from Lance Davis involved a trip to Mongolia. Mongolia was apparently his favorite stop during his adventure, but it’s also the place where he had his worst food experience. It involved a yurt and some mystery meat; he actually spit the food out before it got to his stomach, and he spit it out in front of the cook on accident, but the point is he still remembers Mongolia favorably. So a bad digestion or bad food doesn't have to spoil a trip. Still, much of the time, if your stomach goes to pot, you’ll go to one too, a lot, and that affects your traveling.  

Another aspect of the traveling-stomach-barometer theory is this: not only does your stomach gauge a trip, it becomes more active when traveling, or when in a new place. There are so many new combinations and concoctions to try. Like walking a dog in a new park, the stomach has a lot to sniff out. The stomach is more active with a sense of adventure, but it's also more active with a sense of necessity. When the usual feeding grounds aren’t there, the stomach has to work harder to find food. When I moved to UCA, and then Sittner, and then the West Whitman Estate, I was hungry for the first few weeks at each place. It’s not that there isn’t enough food, it just takes some time to find what tastes good and comes at a good price. Last year in Walla Walla, I found that combination. My diet was Gorilla As®  smoothies, Alban’s granola, Jordan’s left overs, and the Taco Wagon.  (In Walla Walla one night, I shared one of my smoothies with Alban. It had fruit, soy milk, peanut butter, nuts, and it might have even had some chocolate syrup. He told me, "Oh man, this tastes like ... gorilla ... *poop." He then started referring to all my cooking as "Gorilla As," as in, as gorilla tasting as a gorilla would like.  And now I’m trademarking it: Gorilla As®. (Cody and David, make that official for me when you get a chance, class project or something.))

I’m still hunting for the magic combo of good taste and good price here in Hong Kong. The options are there. One of the local grocery stores, “Taste,” has all kinds of imports from Australia, New Zealand, USA, the UK, and other places. There are also “wet markets,” which have wet stuff like produce and meats and extra-terrestrial looking bits. Finding food in Hong Kong isn’t a problem, I even ran across a little store in the train station that sells Kirkland Signature nuts grains and other American pantry stockers. Unfortunately I haven’t found an Alban, Jordan, or a Taco Wagon, but don’t think I’ve given up.  

Until I find them, or a knockoff at the Temple Street night market, or if, worst case scenario, I don’t find either, Gorilla As® will find a way...

This little doozy I call, "The Tofu Sampler Surprise." Tribute to the Sampler himself. 

Act-shee-own!

The campus landscaping and old-school brick buildings are a rebellious haven in the Hong Kong Concrete-Skyscraper Empire. Underground rebels wielding cameras and big lights gather here on the weekends to take advantage of picturesque backgrounds.  Actually, one of the rebellion hideouts, the Jackie Chan Film Studios, is right next door. Here are some photos of one of their meetings.

Dragon Poem 1

I want to find a dragon’s tooth, 

a dragon’s tooth, 

a dragon’s tooth,

and put it in my room. 

I want to keep it there as proof,

there as proof, 

there as proof

and show it to my friends. 

“How will you find a dragon’s tooth,” 

a dragon’s tooth,

a dragon’s tooth,

you probably would ask. 

I’ll chase him with a donkey’s hoof,

a donkey’s hoof, 

a donkey’s hoof, 

and hit him in the mouth,

hoping that a dragon's tooth,

a dragon's tooth,

a dragon's tooth,

is all that will fly out. 

The Lay of the Land (Part ii)

The day before I flew to Hong Kong my family went to a Sze Chuan restaurant near Portland. The owner was from Canton province, just north of Hong Kong, and he told me I would have "no space" where I was going to live. He said, "Hong Kong is tiny and there are so many people." He was write about Hong Kong having a lot of people in a small area, but he was wrong about me not having much space.

This is my home. (Left: girls, Right: boys).

My apartment is on the ground floor. This is the view from my front door. It's the living room/family room/dinning room/yoga room. That window has a nice view of the vegetation.  

From the main room there is a hall going back to the other areas. That door on the right is another room I did not photograph. It's a bedroom, 12'x8'.

Kitchen.

Two in one, washer and dryer (though my clothes never come out dry) also in the kitchen. First door on the left. 

Toilet room. Second door on the left.

Other bed room. At the end of the hall.

Other bed room view two. 

The Lay of the Land (Part i)

A few photos of the school. The grounds at Hong Kong Adventist College/Academy (HKAC/HKAA) are stunning. It's not uncommon for movies, commercials, wedding photos, and things of the like, to be shot here on campus. I guess big green lawns and old brick buildings aren't that common in the city jungle of Hong Kong.

Map courtesy of the school's website.

The view just inside the black steel gate entrance. In the background is the HKAA Primary building.

A concrete road circles inside the campus. It's a nice exercise track, almost a quarter mile.

This is the primary school. Grades 1-6. Number 11 on the first map.

Directly behind the primary is the college building. It is also the administration building for the whole campus. Number 1 on the first map.

Another shot of the administration building, one of the few survivors, as far as buildings go, of WWII.

Behind the ad. building is the church. It's called the Bay View Church, and yes there's a view of the bay.  Number 3 on the first map.

A shot looking back at the ad. building. The soccer and basketball courts are number 2 on the first map. 

And here is the tennis/volleyball/badminton court. Not on the map.

Ode to Jon

We all saw it, but we never knew it ... until now. We saw him sit in an apple's glow, cuddled in the corner of that old cabin by the creek. The foundation was made of concrete and the walls had begun looking like stories. They were covered in letters, photographs and cd's, Tibetan prayer flags, hats and legends of the fall. In the half-light of a monitor, it was hard to tell where the wall ended and he started to talk in his sleep.

"IT'S NOT FINIshedrrr, till the WHOLE THING ISrrrr ... Runn ... (Snore/snort, exhale)".

He wasn't acting, he was real. Not that he couldn't act if he wanted to, we'd all seen it before. Give him a mic and a stage and he was more capable than a pirate with a beer and a buccaneer. His mom even told us to check his bed for booty. We didn't though, because we all knew what we'd find. And who cares about high-end lemonade bottles and Theraflu packets? He said they put him to sleep, we didn't say anything. We just watched him in the blue glow of his computer screen with his iPhone hanging from his mouth like a high-tech pop-tart.

"Jon, are you a vampire?"

We all thought it, but we never asked it. He probably would have answered,

"Are you a ... fingers ... phizers?"

...

"Of course I'm a vampire."


We all knew it, but we never saw it, until now. The computer wasn't glowing, his insides were.