Tackling the Typhoon

Such drama! Such excitement! Such rain!

Yes, it’s typhoon time here in Hong Kong and I have now been through my first official typhoon. Vicente – they name typhoons the way hurricanes are named, apparently – has been and gone, leaving bits of damage in his wake.

The excitement began Saturday, when the government posted T1 signs around the city and announced the warning in the media. T is the level of the storm’s intensity as it approaches, and T1 signals a mere tropical depression. T8 is a full-blown typhoon, a tropical hurricane with wind speeds of 74 kilometers per hour or more. They’re quite common here in the summer, since warm water and high humidity are among the necessary conditions for them to form.

 

I saw the signs, but thought nothing of them, since the last typhoon warning led to a storm that passed through at midnight and was gone an hour later. When I left for work on Sunday, I briefly considered taking my Gore-tex jacket, but discarded the idea, because it’s sooooo hot here. However, I tugged on my rubber boots and made sure my ever-present umbrella was at the ready, since it had rained on and off during the morning.

At work, I got busy editing, but as the sky darkened over the harbor, my colleagues became more and more obsessed with the weather. I was reminded of Toronto on the day preceding a snowstorm forecast – fascination with and anticipation over the weather is a universal phenomenon!

As we worked away, people gave continuing updates on the weather and soon the rains came, pelting the windows, a steady drumbeat of sound. Management decided that we’d crunch out the edition as quickly as possible and not think too much about breaking news unless it was significant. We raced through stories and page design and layout as if the hounds of hell were at our heels.

As the storm battered our windows, word spread that the government would hoist the official T8 flag at 6 p.m. and we were given permission to go immediately if we needed to catch a ferry or feared commuting in the storm.  

I finished my work at 6:30 p.m., and with the storm officially raging, I prepared to leave, expecting to get drenched. One of my colleagues had gone for take-out food and got caught when the skies opened, so I assumed I’d arrive home dripping. After all, the rains were pounding down.

Oddly enough, power here is not threatened by a typhoon – they know enough to bury cables in this part of the world! So, the elevator took me down to the lobby with no problem, and miraculously, one of the building’s shuttles to the subway was just leaving. I ran, the driver waited, and I had no need to even raise my umbrella! I could see the choppy water in the harbor nearby, but the rain quieted to a mere shower.

We’d seen photos online of mad scrambles to get onto the subway and I was prepared to wait, get squashed, whatever. But I work east of the downtown core, and either the traffic was going west, or they’d all left much earlier, because I even got a seat on the train, something that NEVER happens!  

I rode my three stops and emerged into the mall, where stores were closed tightly. I came out onto street level to find that the rain was, once again, pouring down. My flimsy, folding umbrella came out and I prayed that it wouldn’t blow away in the wind. Luck prevailed and I walked the few blocks home through streets that are normally bustling; most businesses were shuttered. At the nearby 7-11, they were trying to sweep away water that had flooded the floor. I reached the door of my building basically dry. What a surprise!

Vicente didn’t leave quite that quickly, however. During the night, I could hear the wind whipping and things crashing as they were blown around. When I went outside early in the morning, I could see signs that he’d been by: trees listing, branches scattered, tiles that were loosened from rooftops lying on the ground and the mall’s decorative little English village, part of a display for the Queen’s Jubilee, uprooted and in pieces. My path may have been charmed, but property owners weren’t all so lucky.

I had an appointment for an early haircut downtown, so I made my way there in the much-lighter rain. The subway wasn’t nearly as busy as it should have been early in the morning. Unlike me, determined to be prepared now in my Gore-tex,  the commuters who were out and about had made no serious concessions to the weather, other than carrying sturdy umbrellas. No one had rain gear on, since the storm had abated and they didn’t want to roast in the hot, humid weather.

When I reached the salon, I found that my hairdresser lived on one of the other islands and couldn’t get here because there was no ferry service. No wonder my colleagues suggested that I live on Hong Kong Island!

Never fear, someone else cut my hair, and when I came outside, the rain had stopped and the cleanup had begun. Stores opened, people were heading to work, street sweepers were at work – by hand, as below -- and the streets were busy again. I made my way home with a stop at the store for – you guessed it – a sturdier umbrella!

Vodka, mudflats and the Big Buddha

What, you might ask, could these three things possibly have in common? It's a good question with a simple answer: they were all part of my day yesterday.

The Big Buddha is a well-known giant statue of the Buddha build near the Lo-Pin monastery on nearby Lantau Island. I don't have stats on its dimensions, but it is cast bronze that had to be trucked up the mountain in three pieces and assembled on site. To reach it -- and see what all the fuss was about -- involved taking the subway to the end of one of the lines and making my way to Ngong Ping Village. Rather than getting aboard a bus, I took the pricier option: a cable car ride over the hills. With no disrespect to the Buddha, it was the highlight of the afternoon.

I chose to ride in a Crystal Car, which meant that the floor was glass. Not only could the six of us in the car see out the windows, we were able to look below us at the lush vegetation, the hiking path meandering up and down the hills and the graves of ancestors buried on slopes here and there. En route, I enjoyed the company of two young Chinese women, one a reporter for the China Daily, an English language paper.

Once in Ngong Ping, I made my way through the village to the impressive gates that led to an alley of stone warriors, each representing a sign on the Chinese calendar. Beyond the alley were the 250 steps leading up to the enormous statue of the Buddha. Clutching my water bottle in the hot sun, I made the trek.

From the bottom of the stairway, he looks majestic, seated calmly upon his lotus leaf. Up close, he's equally impressive for the size, the artistry and the symbolism of his pose and his garb. It was a lovely feeling standing at the base of the statue looking out over the lush valley and nearby hills as the chants from the nearby monastery wafted through the air.

The cable car ride back from Ngong Ping put me in the company of a lively Australian couple, an enjoyable extra. As the car prepared to cross the water, we could see that the tide was out. The mudflats below were exposed and speckled with what turned out to be people digging for shellfish. They would put their finds in strainers, then store the catch in what looked like white coolers. The brown flats were lined with the diggers, some going knee deep in muddy water for their bounty.

I returned to dry land and made my way home by train with only an hour or so to spare before it was time to turn around and go out to a party. One of my co-workers got married this week in a small ceremony and invited the work crew to celebrate Saturday night. The event was held at a bar in Soho (South of Hollywood Rd., the antiques district), the upscale nightlife area of town -- as opposed to the drunken bar scene area of town, which isn't too far way! I hadn't been there before, so I hopped into a cab and set off. Cabs are very inexpensive here -- the ride cost me about seven dollars, plus tip -- so it's a great option.

The party venue was a vodka bar called V13, and it could easily have been a trendy bar in any city in the world. However, I had a lovely time chatting with co-workers and their spouses, including the bride, who is from Thailand. My colleague doesn't get off easily with the civil ceremony -- this fall, he'll be off to Thailand with his wife for a traditional ceremony there.

So, thus ended a lovely day off, and now, it's back to editing.

Here and there in Hong Kong

My travels continued this past week with a foray into the New Territories (adjacent to mainland China) and a trip to one of the oldest settled areas on HK island, Sheung Wan.

The New Territories are home to the Hong Kong Heritage Museum, which, just like Toronto, has a Picasso exhibition running at present. It also has exhibits about Chinese culture, which were really what drew me. (Hey, Picasso paintings are on display in NYC regularly!) Getting there, however, required three changes of subway line, and I ended up in a mall in one of the many New Towns (planned suburbs with green space, industry, transit and highrises galore), trying to follow the directions a mall attendant had given me. Luckily, I happened upon a hotel and knew someone there would speak English. Bingo! A nice, young man escorted me outdoors and pointed the way. I was close ...

The Picasso exhibition was ostensibly sold out, but the young man at the ticket window told me that I could purchase a month's pass that would ensure entry. The pass cost a "whopping" $50 -- or about $7 Canadian! What is the AGO charging for its exhbition -- $20? In any case, by doing so, I can return any time and I was able to enter the exhibition without waiting in line. Not too tough to take.

I have never been a huge Picasso fan, but after reading the commentary here and seeing the selection of paintings and sculpture, I may have to change my mind. Some of his work now makes much more sense, given what was going on in his life and in the world, and I even discovered that Picasso had a sense of humor. One of his takes on a classic medieval painting actually had me chuckling out loud. What a nice surprise!

The museum also had an exhibition about the history of the New Territories and one about traditional Chinese opera and its gaudy costumes, both of which were very interesting and illuminating. So much to learn here, so little time!

Instead of taking the train home, I found a bus that made a stop in Causeway Bay -- a double-decker -- and was able to sit up on top, at the front, to watch the scenery. The landscape looks similar wherever I go in HK: lovely green hills punctuated by highrise complexes galore. Talk about condo canyons!

Saturday found me in Sheung Wan, the part of town where the British first planted their flag in 1841. The winding streets have a distinct flavor: they're full of herbalists; antique shops displaying sleek jade carvings, intricate bone scrimshaw work and colorful pottery in various traditional styles; fabric wholesalers (quilters, take note!) and shops creating distinctive name stamps. I also came across a lovely park -- the city is full of small islands of green tucked away in unexpected spots -- that was once the site of a care facility for victims of bubonic plague, and a couple of Buddhist temples, one large and one small. It always seems incongruous to me: the temples are rife with tourist, but there are also people praying, lighting incense and making offerings. I suppose one gets accustomed to the tourists and blocks them out, but it seems disruptive to me. Yet, I can certainly understand the desire to visit these temples; they're so full of color!

I took the tram back home -- it's a streetcar that runs on tracks, but it, too, is double-decker, so I had a good view of the neighborhoods between Sheung Wan and Causeway Bay. I even recognized the stop where I needed to alight, something that wasn't possible two days into my stay here. I'm getting closer to being a native!

Now, it's back to work and the click-clack of keys as we edit and correct. I am learning more about Asian politics and diplomacy every day, which is fun. Perhaps I'll magically acquire some language skill, too!

City Living

Greetings! Most of my blog posts have focused on the wonderful sights and tastes of Hong Kong, so today, I thought offer a glimpse into daily life in the city. Here are some of the lessons I've learned about living in Hong Kong:

1. Don't be in a hurry when you're on foot. As busy and crowded as parts of Hong Kong may be, the pace of the pedestrians is a relaxed one. Unlike NYC, for instance, no one seem to be in a hurry to get to a destination. People walk, look around, text as they walk, walk three abreast -- so unless your entire focus is on dodging and weaving, it's not worth the energy to rush. Just leave home a few minutes earlier and join the stroll.

2. Revere the Octopus! The Octopus card is the transit card that is ubiquitous here. A swipe of this credit-cardlike item will give you entree to the subway, buses, minibuses and ferries that take you around Hong Kong Island or to Kowloon, the New Territories and the outer islands (TTC and Go Transit, take note); you can also use it to visit one of the many 24-hour 7-11 stores or to purchase groceries at some of the chains. You simply load it up with money and watch it trickle away, then load it again. Awesome!

3. Buckle up. In addition to the buses and streetcars that flood the city streets, there are fleets of 16-seat minibuses that also serve the public. The drivers of these minibuses are wild men, roaring down the street, dodging in and out of traffic, then slamming on the brakes at a stoplight. No wonder it takes me less time to get to work by minibus than by subway! However, I'm not surprised to see that the minibuses come equipped with seatbelts. You can be sure that I use mine.

4. Language skill is helpful, but not mandatory. Since the British handover of HK to the Chinese government 15 years ago, the English language isn't as prevalent here. Cantonese is the dominant language of Hong Kong, since it's adjacent to Canton (Guangzhong) province, and Mandarin, which is the universal Chinese dialect, is being taught in the schools, with English falling to third in importance. Although I don't hear much English spoken when I'm out and about, signs are still generally in both Chinese and English, and many people have a rudimentary knowledge of English. No matter. You can go a long way with smiles and hand gestures. I had my nails done in a salon where the manicurist knew virtually no English. We gestured, signalled and pointed and everything worked out well. And when I needed a hammer and nails, I simply drew a crude picture and brought it to the hardware store. Minutes later, I had what I'd requested.

5. A smile goes a long way. It was true in Toronto and it's equally true in Hong Kong. People respond to smiles; they speak of goodwill. Even though my Cantonese is non-existent, I can make contact with people on the subway, on the street or in shops. As in most cities, people are focused on other things, but they generally aren't too busy to return a smile. My favourite response to date: a tot on the subway who blew me kisses. Now there's a picture that's worth a thousand words!

Lamma, not Llama

Brilliant sunshine on Saturday, a day off! Accompanied, as usual, by high temps and even higher humidity (Easterners, you know all about this!). Undaunted, I set off for one of Hong Kong's smaller Islands, Lamma, with one of my neighbors. Stephanie is an interior designer from Singapore who is working in Hong Kong for a year and is as keen to explore as I am. So nice to have some company!

The island is about 20 minutes by ferry from downtown, so off we went across Victoria Harbor, dodging freighters anchored there and eying passing launches. The water was blue-green and a bit bouncy, but it was wonderful to feel the breeze as we headed south.

The ferry discharged us in Yung Shue Wan, one of the two towns of any size on the island. Tourism is apparently big business, with a number of restaurants and shops eager for our business. We browsed a bit before heading off on the Family Trail, a paved concrete walkway that leads pedestrians from settlement on the island to another, with offshoots that take people to scenic overlooks or various beaches.

Since it was past lunchtime, we were quickly seduced by aromatic smells coming from further ahead. We tracked them to the Lamma Grill, a small takeout place that had only been open for three days. Its owners are Australians who are longtime Lamma residents and we succumbed to the lure of Westerm food: pulled pork for Steph and a lamb burger -- OK, that's more Australian than Western -- for me, along with thick, fresh cut fries. Mmmmm!

Fortified, we made our way along the trail, enjoying the foliage, the bird songs and the lovely flowers adorning the trail. Soon, we found ourselves at the island's most popular beach, Hung Shing Yeh, which stands in the shadow of a huge power plant. (Simcoe-area friends, insert choking sound here!) The water was clear and the sand was yellow, but the beach was only half-full. Not a bad option for a beach escape, but we were on a wandering mission. However, it didn't preclude me from adding to my shell collection!

Up and down the hills we went en route to the opposite side of the island. The views were glorious: sun-drenched trees and shrubs, light sparkling on the blue bays, ships settled calmly at anchor.

We reached the town of Sok Kwu Wan a while later, but decided we weren't yet hungry enough to stop for dinner, so it was on to the hamlet of Mo Tat Wan. There, we had a beach almost to ourselves: a couple of teens were bathing at the opposite end. A perfect opportunity to take off our shoes and let the incoming tide soothe our feet.

Next, on to dinner. The island is home to many fishermen, and there's nothing like seafood right off the boat. Interestingly, there are a half-dozen restaurants cheek by jowl, and they all have seafood pens along the shoreline. When they get low on one item or another, someone simply takes a bucket and walks to the shore to replenish!

We were lucky enough to get a table right by the water, and that's where we enjoyed a dinner of prawns in soy sauce, razor clams in black bean sauce and steamed eggplant with garlic. Yum! And with such a picturesque setting, it was easy to linger until it was time to board the ferry for home.

Yes, it's a tough life here in HK, but heck, I'm a survivor! :)

Of fish and food

A weekday off equals an opportunity to avoid some of the weekend crowds at places of interest in Hong Kong. Tuesday's outing was somewhat random: I had a few places in mind and took the first bus that came by. It took me to the south side of the island, to Aberdeen, home to part of Hong Kong's commercial fishing fleet.

Unlike Stanley, the southside beach where I enjoyed the dragon boat races, Aberdeen is not really rural. It's an inlet surrounded by the same highrises that populate the rest of the city. The big draw is the chance to walk the promenade and look at the floating wholesale fish markets -- I spotted a man drying his catch outdoors -- and the opportunity to take a sampan ride. Sampans are small wooden boats with canopies covering them to keep out the sun. Today, they are motorized, but I am certain that wasn't the case in the past when they were used for commercial fishing.

I loved being back on the water. As an fan of sportfishing, I've missed being in a boat this summer, so this was a treat. Aside from a couple that my "driver" was returning to their trawler docked nearby, I was the only passenger. We cruised the entire inlet to give me a closeup of the large black trawlers decked with their Chinese flags, the sleek white yachts and the drydocks where boats are repaired. There are also two huge floating restaurants, which are a real tourist draw. I will certainly return sometime to check them out.

I had my first taste of local fish -- seafood, actually -- this past week at a cooked food hall. A what?, you well may ask. I envisioned something like a food court where one visited booths to see which was serving something that appealed. Wrong! It's actually a large restaurant with no frills. There are large wooden tables with linoleum tops set up and the place is jammed with families and friends enjoying a cooked (Cantonese) meal.

I went there with a couple of colleagues and we tried some local specialties: fried tofu (never my favourite food), prawns and fried garlic, and a pumpkin and mushroom dish. Wonderful! The prawns were fresh and extremely flavourful and the garlic was everywhere -- clumps of minced pieces that had been fried. Together, they were a tasty mouthful. The pumpkin dish was a real delight, too. It was actually a butternut squash that had been hollowed out. The shell was filled with a squash sauce, and it was surrounded on a platter by a pieces of the pumpkin, white seaweed and a variety of mushrooms. Visually lovely, delicious and healthy, too! (Pumpkin is a common item here -- I see large pieces in the grocery store.)

Fishing and seafood -- I'm on the right track, and there are more adventures to come.