Hong Kong Pt. 2

The next day, I went to Mongkok to get a pineapple sweet bun. I sat with some old local lady. We ate in silence as she read the paper and I watched people. We never were more than two feet apart. It was oddly comforting yet would never fly in America. Then I returned to the hostel to roll out to Mongkok to get some local fare. I walked into this small hole in the wall. An old man yelling sits us in the back and tells us we want the mixed platter – we had a girl who can speak mandarin with us, useful but not as helpful as Cantonese would have been. The chopped birds are served,  we dip them in sauce and eat it with rice. So friggin' tasty and we were surrounded by locals. One of the best experiences yet. The meat could’ve been a little hotter though.

Somehow I missed out on saying when I went to the Michelin restaurant, Tim Ho Wan, anyways. It’s delicious. I tried many things, including chicken feet. BBQ pork bun they are famous for is a little too sweet for me but still tasty. My favorite was the rice noodle wrapped shrimp. Slimy and kind of like manicotti. So good. I've since learned it's shu mai. (I try to eat Dim Sum in the states now)

I went on my way to see Victoria Peak. I waited in line for a long time, and was disappointed by the fog-obstructed view. A waste, but the gardens/aviary at the bottom was enjoyable. Tonight we went to a delicious restaurant nearby the hostel, had more dim sum, and then went to the horse races. Tourist paradise on the main floor, where the commoners go. I tried a slushy beer. It was good, but gimmicky. My horses never won. We tried to go out clubbing after. While it was too crowded for my taste, it was still fun. People bought me a drink or two, ended up at McDonalds again. I’d be waking up soon to catch the bus to my flight. I made it.

Hong Kong Pt. 1

Upon arrival, the clouds above Hong Kong are like none I’ve ever seen before, with sunset beginning behind the voluptuous clouds that are standing majestically like large mounds of snow, gleaming in the sunlight. Large buildings on grassy islands sprouting from the sea. High rises look like towering twins and siblings, looking related and similar. It is hard to make out what is smog and what are clouds. A gray brown color fills my window. I see nothing…. The stench of industry fills my nostrils. Disgust and curiosity as we break the clouds revealing beautiful landscapes adorned with buildings. Lights turning on at the start of the evening/ Massive buildings with pools, aglow in the night. So many islands with boats crossing every which way. Their world glows green, industry making its mark on an area most certainly a paradise a century ago. Just landed, a feeling that I know this trip was worth it sets in. Even the colors are different. The atmosphere transports me to another time where I am a space traveler, entering a new planet, wide eyed.

I find myself in a crazy anthill of passengers. Time seems warped as I stand still amidst people sprinting in every direction, itineraries in hand.

I manage to get myself to the subway, Airport Express, that will take me to a bus station that can drop me off around the corner from my hostel. I get there with ease, but not quite able to replicate that ease when finding my hostel. I knew in advance that my hostel was next to a Rolex store. So when I found a door I walked in, rode the shoddy elevator up 13 stories and started looking around. It appeared I was in a set of apartments, the settled heat, stifling, only confusing me more. I knocked on a door; it was a man in his small apartment room, watching tv. I forgot people in Hong Kong live in notoriously minuscule quarters. He told me the hostel was next door. There was a closed one on this floor. I decided I must have the wrong spot, so I went back downstairs; I was able to find it next time. The hostel is small but there are people hanging there. I joined up with them to go out to the Nathan road market (ladies?), which shouldn’t be considered a tourist attraction, and was disappointed. It was just like a swap meet, people selling garbage no one wants that is the same as the things being sold by the guy two stalls over. There seemed to be 3 types of salesmen. Those who approach you, those who are doing their own thing and don’t give a shit, and lastly those who just play with their kids. Ended at an overpriced western style bar and McDonalds, I’ve failed as a tourist. But nothing else was open at 12 am…. I’ll do better next time. I did learn locals tend to just buy beer at the corner store and roam, there are no open container rules like here in the tyrannical united states.

Due to poor consistency in writing in my journal I am writing to fill in the rest of Hong Kong before moving on to my notes from Myanmar.

I apologize for missing some of the cultural impressions that I gained or any lost stories due to my memory and two weeks of time before I can write this down. While abroad, I treated my time as dedicated to seeing new things and meeting the people there. This led to a lack of downtime I expected. In fact, I am happy that happened because I was able to socialize on what otherwise was and was expected to be a very lonely and introspective trip. Things change and deviate from the “plan”, which is one of my favorite things about life. A wise man[1] once said something like “The only certainty is change”.  This fact has yet to prove itself wrong…[2]

Sorry…. I’m talking about Hong Kong.

I took the subway out to the Big Buddha,. You ride up a massive gondola that would terrify anybody who suffers from acrophobia, especially the glass bottom option (tourist trap for more $$$). Once you reach the top there is a little tourist village waiting to sell you more stuff. The Buddha is on top of a hill at a little temple, across from a monastery. The views are incredible. A short walk off can get you to a great hike, which I didn’t do.

Speaking of hikes, the hike up to the Buddha is something I want to do someday, it looks awesome. Mostly because the stone steps are very beautiful…I have a strange obsession with cobblestone, seems more historical and meaningful.

I did have the chance to walk off the beaten path and got to a large rock where I had a perpendicular unobstructed view of the Buddha’s profile, but an even better view of the bay below. Upon returning down the mountain, me and my fellow travelers [3] rode a bus down to a fishing village where we caught the ferry back to central. The red head left and the Kiwi and I went to a noodle place that my friend David recommended from when he studied abroad there. It was pretty tasty. We walked around and headed back to the hostel. Nothing big happened in between until a group from the hostel went to ozone bar. At the top of Ritz Carlton in Kowloon with a beautiful view of Central HK and spectacular modern decor. Colorful lights accenting the darkness, minimalist furniture and over decorated cocktails. The perfect formula for a ridiculously overpriced bar on a fancy hotel.

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[1] This concept has been used by many people over the course of human existence and should never be attributed to one single person. In this era of Google, however, I probably could find the most famous of these quotes.

[2] Side note: perhaps the appearance of change is something we view as inevitable but when you zoom out in time far enough you see that the pattern is replicated over and over and, in fact , all is stagnant and there is no change. This would be a great discussion for my new blog I am trying to create with my cousin. We could explore how if there was no change maybe we don’t exist or hit other wild philosophical topics that many people have thought about.

[3] There were two: a read head who lives in Vietnam with her local boyfriends she is trying to bring back to the states, from DC I think, and an cool Kiwi guy who is going to study econ in Belgium)

Thoughts at 40,000 feet

Flying out of the states at sunrise

July 2016

I stand at the back of the plane – the doors, unguarded -- Death could be upon us all in a short moment. Standing on the brink of destruction in such a docile environment. How could those who perished on 9/11 know they were being brought to their end?  Was there time to panic? Or was it faster than that, sudden non-existence. Did they feel fear? Pain? Our lives can be snuffed out so suddenly, it’s terrifying, yet oddly freeing. Every thing you do is a risk. Not doing anything is a risk as well. Regret can weigh heavy, as does fear.  Terror can paralyze you in an instant.  It also drives excitement…Knowing that you are facing an obstacle that you may not overcome is exhilarating.

Does any of this change how one lives? Does it manifest itself through action?

No one can say what the definitive calling of mankind is, it’s doubtful there even is one. Bacteria live and die with the sole motivation (if it can be called that) to replicate. This replication carries out evolution through creating defects which sometimes are beneficial to survival, leading to growth. The same goes in humans.

Is this felt by those who attain traditional success, like wealth or status? Are they defying fear setting aside the consequences or are they actually running away from fear, and drowning in their work. Preoccupying their mind with distractions like a drug addict does with a needle. Are they actually preoccupied with others’ opinion of them?

What about me? What am I motivated by? What should my life “portfolio’ look like? As I approach 25 (the arbitrary quarter life mark, despite the fact that most people never make it to 100) Who knows if I’ll even make it. I might be 90% through already, life comes with many surprises. The way the world works is I could die any second now, even get shot up by a gunman while writing this. But I will hope that is not the case, and continue to hope that I am in the right place at the right time, or at least not at the wrong place.

If our sole purpose is to procreate, life is not too hard. Especially when you are auspicious enough to have resources at your disposal, whether earned or not. The game gains new meaning when prosperity replaces survival as primary objective.

With these new goals, how does one become successful? You can choose to focus on different aspects of your life, like you would skills. Wealth, power, love, happiness, physicality, mental stability, and knowledge. The balance you choose may be altered and modified, like a stock portfolio. The balance of goals and ways you invest your time will affect the outcome of your life portfolio.

It appears to me that my balance has been focused on the quest for knowledge as of late. As precipitated by my grandfather and carried out due to my interest in attaining wealth while maintaining the other features. I have continuously bypassed my childhood focus on the physical self as my mental cravings have grown. Despite the need to maintain my body to allow my mind to work clearly. I prefer to seek happiness but have allowed things to get in the way of my growth in other areas.

My job is quite boring, at least on this current project. However, it provides me time to do other activities. How I use this extra time should be strategic. What do I wish to achieve? If I must forego learning at my job, it is up to me to develop myself outside of working hours. Develop into what then becomes the question.

I drew a model that looks like this:

In this model, well-being and happiness are separate but they are integrally intertwined. Many of the activities that make me feel happy or pleasurable involve exercise; sports, like soccer, promote spontaneity and teamwork, which makes you feel good. With the added high of physical exertion, it is something I truly enjoy.

If a story is engaging, I can get lost reading and ignore the frustrations of the world. I can see a thousand lives outside of my own. It is also comforting and helps me understand people more.

At work, my manager would like me to work on understanding the politics of people. This is likely a good idea. While something I have historically avoided, drama is very frequently present because of the power struggle of average humans. Understanding the motivations of others should be beneficial to my growth as a human. As a psychology major it should be a strength of mine, yet I am lacking in this ability, which distracts from my….human-ness.

How many times have I missed sarcasm or a false laugh, or enthusiasm? How many-shared moment have been at my expense. Am I some fool that entertains or am I actually talented. I could be like Don Quixote, who I am reading about, who lives in his own world and doesn’t acknowledge or recognize reality.

But IS this life false? If my perception is positive, does it matter what others think? I often miss moments and may seem aloof but that is because my focus is elsewhere. Only in my own head can I trust. Then there, can I believe my faulty memory? Even if my memories are true, how can I presume that my senses caught the event accurately? I know this has happened before.

I sometimes convince myself that we should be open and not care about others. In hopes I do not overstep my boundaries and make myself a pariah, an outcast… Yet, isn’t that what I seek? To be a hermit, the old man from stories whom heroes seek advice from. I always wanted to be the hero but failed. I was always too self interested (like Vegeta). So I became the teacher as the old saying goes. I know what had to be done, I had potential, yet I failed to because of my inability to act. Maybe that means I would be a great teacher…or I will never be able to teach one to greatness because I could never get myself there.

An advisor is helpful to others but their advice is tempered through self experience and often times failures of their own. So the greatest advisors are those who have failed repeatedly. Wisdom of what NOT to do. For the one who tells you how to do it had certain conditions, which may not be able to e replicated in the present. The one who is failed, however, can provide words of caution to be heeded.

Pre-flight meditations

 7/5

In the delta terminal of seatac airport I sip my decaf Americano, black of course, and polish of the remains of the dry cinnamon scone. I am waiting to board my 14-hour direct flight to Hong Kong. The time there is 3 am, I will need to knock out fast, I’d like to get in sync with their time. Perhaps that can be solved with the help of sleeping pills.

Around me, small hints of Hong Kong bleed in. Whether its my attentiveness misguiding me or a tangible difference in plane clientele, I don’t know. The Chinese lady across from me has curly hair, messy and short. It’s that burnt orange color so common amongst Asians who attempt to bleach their dark hair.  She dons a colorful silk shirt and gold trinkets adorn her.

To my left a child is watching a death match between a wasp and a scorpion, it looks vicious. His sister, can’t be older than 5, is wearing a pink jumpsuit and attempting handstands throughout the terminal. Failing but persisting. Over and over again. Her determination is admirable but like most young people, she tries the same technique over and over, not taking time to think how she can change her technique to improve her chance of success. It could be a muscle issue as well. No matter, she’s finally giving up…. Never mind, I lied. She’s back at it again.

Everyone around is watching now, a shared laugh. Cheers everyone up before the long ride we are all dreading.

A couple, white, looks out of place. Dressed like their just walking out of tilly’s circa ’95; alpine stars shirts, all black clothing, with puffy skate shoes. Seems like the 909ers who most certainly swarmed Newport for the 4th of July yesterday.

The girl is reading Eat Pray Love, her acned face and disgusted look t the child gymnast give off a “homer” vibe. I hope travelling sets her right. Eat pray love comes off to me as a joke of a travel book.. Reading one woman’s modest transformation intertwined with a boring love story. Sure, I’d love to write a travel book like that, but as millions of American are tempted to travel because of it, I fear people will begin travelling for the wrong reasons, or maybe no reason at all. Hong Kong is said to be a shoppers’ paradise. Well I have no interest in this addiction. Why buy things there when you can by them at home for half the price? Either way, most clothes seam gaudy and re most certainly overpriced; I wonder what their quality is like.

This terminal has rocking chairs, is this to cater to chinese customers or is that a new thing?

Humans are a strange species; we have figured out ways to mask deficiencies. Yet, so many of us are flawed, let themselves fall into disrepair. Do animals senses this? Do they treat others of their own differently because of cleanliness, health and spirit?