After living in HK for a year and half...

1. I still don't speak a word of Cantonese.

(Well, actually, that's not true. I know 5 words -- "thank you", "please", "stop here", "what's up?" and "idiot". I think it is a very full vocabulary.)

2. I am no longer annoyed at the sound of Cantonese.

(Well, actually, that's not true either. Now and then I still get bothered by the high-pitched squawking, but much less than when I first moved here.)

3. I still love the skyline, the bay, the lights. (True)

4. I still haven't been to China. (Unfortunately, true.)

5. I think it is an incredible city. It is both 90 minutes and a world away from home. (Irrefutably true).

College jeans, try college wardrobe

You hear some people say that they can still fit in the jeans they wore in college. Or how most people dream of one day getting into their college Levi's.

Well here's some news -- I now weigh the same as I did in sophomore year at Loyola.

Now I wonder where those Girbeau jeans are....

White shoes, white pants

This weekend I donned white shoes and white pants. No, I didn't wear them together. I was not channeling Tony Ferrer's Agent X-44, even though he is super cool in my book.

I wore them on two separate occasions. The white pants were for a boat trip I took on a client's massive yacht. I bought those Banana Rep white pants in 2003 (in NY!) and never wore them. I mean, apart from boat trips and unless you're a health care provider, when is it appropriate to wear white pants? I took them to HK though, thinking I may get invited to barbecue on the beach. No luck on the barbecue, but I did get this invite to get on a 139 foot yacht.

The yacht was spectacular, but I got seasick towards the end, so it wasn't a "spectacular" experience for me. The lunch at the yacht club was good though.

The white shoes are what A and C call "trainers". The rest of the world calls them rubber shoes. I don't usually wear rubber shoes unless I am engaged in a sport or other form of athletics. When I'm not working, I wear loafers. Last count I had almost a dozen pairs. But then I thought, "Oh sod it, everyone wears them, and they're comfortable, so why not...." ("Sod it...." that's another thing A and C say.)

As you will note this blog has been quiet. And if all I can say after a month and a half is that I wore white trousers over a weekend, things must be slow and steady in HK.

And they are.

I promise it looks better in real life

Random Thought

Tic tac is the phonic anagram of Kit Kat.

Channelling Van Gogh

Note the paint on my lips. Photo of "finished product" to follow.

Real Freedom

A couple of days ago, a high school classmate of mine who now works as a missionary in Krakow (long story) chatted me up on Yahoo! messenger.

After required pleasantries, she asked me about the political environment in Hong Kong. I responded, "Well, it's sort of like China, but not." (I can sound really dumb when I want to.)

"So there's no private property?"

"Uh, there is. But there is no universal suffrage. The right to assemble is sketchy, so is freemdom of expression. But really, I don't mind."

And I'm serious -- I don't mind.

Because I have other, more important freedoms.

I can walk down a street alone at 3am and not feel scared. I can earn an honest living as a lawyer (something I cannot do in the ostensible democratic motherland) and feel confident that my future will be comfortable (the banking system will not fail, the currency I am saving in will not fall in value). At night, when I sleep in my apartment, I feel a sense of security I don't feel in Manila; I didn't feel even in New York.

To be honest, I really don't see what the big to do is about the bill of rights. And I'm not trying to sound dumb. If you think about it, the freedoms that really matter aren't on it.

"No, I'm not watching a parade"

This is what I had to say about a dozen times when I told people that I was going to watch The Police in Macau.

Apparently, most people in Hong Kong do not know who or what The Police are and assumed I am schlepping to the neighboring S.A.R. to watch a parade or a performance of a chorale of peace officers.

So I try to explain who The Police are... "You know, Sting?"

I get a blank stare.

This got me thinking. The Chinese probably think the Beatles are insects. Poor John Lennon. Guess he wasn't as popular as he thought he was.

==============

P.S. The concert was magnificent. It was everything I had hoped for.

Boris Comes to Town

So my favorite couple in the world "BoRis" has come to visit me in Hang Kang.

I call them "Boris" ala Brangelina and Tomcat and Bennifer (i.e. a combination of their names).

But I think Boris beats them all. For starters, Boris is made up of two very successful men.

Bo splits his time between Manila and Paris, and Ris is based out of Singapore, Ho Chi Min and later this year, Tokyo. Ang galing, diba? And not only are they great individually, they're amazing together. Here's my favortie Boris story: one time, Ris is on his way to Singapore for business. As is their custom, they call each other after flights. Ris calls Bo, thinking he is in Manila. Bo says, "Ok, thanks for letting me know you're there."

Bo then surprises Ris at the Sing arrival terminal.

Diba?!?!?!

Boris.

*Sigh.*

Anyway...

So the three of us have been going around town, shopping, eating and watching the fireworks. We criticize strangers and laugh at ourselves (and the other way around).

It's been an absolutely fabulous weekend.

Spring cleaning gone unnoticed

Today I did some much needed spring cleaning. I went through those mountains of paper in my office (if you've been to my office either in Manila or HK, you know what I'm talking about) and sorted the piles into "throw" and "keep" documents.

So I threw out about a box and half of old drafts, mark-ups, emails and whatnot that have accumulated in my room. After the deed was done, I sat behind my desk, grinning like an idiot, hoping people would notice.

Of course no one did.

Although people did ask why I was grinning like an idiot.

The Sentimental Reader

One of my (oh so many) quirks is that I can't start a new book without finishing the one I'm currently reading.

As you can imagine, this policy can get highly annoying sometimes. Because every so often I get stuck.

Recently I was stuck reading "Dog Fight" by this fellow called Michael Knight. The collection of short stories was strong as a whole, and I recommend the book to the six people left on this planet who enjoy reading stories, but I got caught in of the low points of a story I couldn't relate to and got stuck.

For six weeks.

But over the weekend I promised myself I'd get out of my reading rut and I did. I finished Dog Fight and am now on to Dan Chaon's "You Remind Me of Me". Hopefully it will take me less than six weeks to get through it.

Sometimes people ask what kind of books I read. Well, I read anything, really, though in the last few years I have preferred younger authors talking about 30 something angst (oh, what a stretch for me). I don't think I'm a serious reader since I can go for weeks, sometimes even months at a time without reading anything, but I'd like to think I am a "sentimental" reader.

Someone who reads to reflect, to think. To pause.

Real weekends are fun!

I haven't had a real weekend in three weeks.

You know, one where you stay home, watch a couple of French movies, read a book and go to the gym?

I've forgotten how enjoyable they are.