Hong Kong is home to the world’s longest outdoor covered escalator, the world’s tallest outdoor bronze seated Buddha, and the world’s only non-US residence of Jonathan DG, one of my closest friends from college. Jon said that if I was ever in Asia, I could stay with his parents, so, since I had one more week of vacation and tickets were really cheap on Air Asia… I took him up on his offer and borrowed his parents for five fantastic days. (I mean, it’s not like he was using them, right?)
Describing Hong Kong throws me into spasms of analogies: 1) If San Francisco and New York City ever had a baby… it would be this super-hilly, super-urban city. Or 2) If prisms of quartz grew out of the middle of a mossy, knobby rock, it would look just like Hong Kong, with incredibly tall, thin buildings completely filling a valley created by rolling green mountains. And 3) If you could reverse the layout of NYC (lots of city with Central Park in the middle), you’d get Hong Kong, which is 75% untouched green space, and other 25% insanely packed with buildings and people.
The fog/smog was intense for the first few days of the trip, but that just made things feel more dramatic as I explored the city with Deborah, Jon’s mom. On my first day, we took the ferry across the harbor to Hong Kong Island, bought some fantastic fruit at markets (custard apples and rambutans) and then we took the aforementioned escalator. It may be in the guidebooks for it’s length (800 meters), but I think it should get more notoriety for it’s usefulness— it connects the business district with a huge residential area, its direction depends on rush hour (and switches after rush hour is over), and (my favorite part) it has a vertical climb of 135 meters, or 45 stories. This turns a huge commute over many miles and steep hills into a ride of 20 minutes, and severely reduces the need for cars or even buses!
Shopping in Hong Kong is an adventure because different goods are located on different streets. There is bird street, where you can buy everything for your favorite feathered friends (including the birds themselves), and where men frequently take their birds for walks—there are poles everywhere to hang their cages, and the men just sit and chat while the birds sing. It’s surreal. There’s also flower street, “ladies street” (to buy items, not prostitutes), and my favorite, aquarium street. Here, you’ll find each doorway covered with plastic bags holding various fish and other aquatic creatures. The sight is extremely odd. And in between all of these are tons of insanely-packed open-air markets selling everything from t-shirts that have nonsensical English phrases, to household items being promoted like live infomercials, to underwear. It was incredible to see how many people were out in these areas– it looked like there was a festival going on, but it was just a regular day.
I never really experienced culture shock in Thailand, but I know that if I was in Hong Kong for longer, I’d definitely feel it. There is a stark difference between my life in the US and the life in Hong Kong. Here are three examples of consumer-oriented items that totally threw me.
1) Dried things—you can find all sorts of dried seafood for snacking or soup (like shark fins and seahorses), dried reproductive organs and antlers for traditional medicine, and dried innards from all sorts of animals to be used for all sorts of things. (I stopped asking what they were and how they were used.)
2) Cute things—Chinese women of all ages are into super cute things, either to wear or just to have and display. I’ve seen cars completely decked out in Hello Kitty and stuffed animals, plush furry hats with ears, and I even saw a singer crooning a love song at a concert… with his back up dancers wearing full-scale costumes of bumblebees, bunnies, and flowers. To which I say.. whyyyyyyy?
3) Paper things for the dead—Chinese people will burn paper items to send to their dead relatives in the afterlife. It’s very considerate, if you think about it. I’ve seen “hell money” (for spending), running shoes, irons, cell phones, calculators, cans of coca cola, cognac, perfume, soccer balls, dim sum, jeans, tuxes, and purses—all made out of paper. You can even find paper maids and butlers.
One of the greatest things about Hong Kong, though, was that I had the time and space to relax, something I very much needed after three months of travel. I could just check my email, play with the two kitties who graciously let me sleep in their room, and reflect on everything, rather than think about packing (like in Chiang Mai), unpacking (like I will in DC), or saying goodbye (or hello again) to people. Their house was my tranquil island where none of that could touch me if I didn’t want it to. I could just eat great western-style food, have terrific discussions with Jon’s parents about culture, politics and people we knew, and watch as much American tv as my brain could handle.
It was like home away from home away from home.
Tongue Thai'ed 