It is 4:45am and I cannot manage to fall asleep. I need to "wake" up in about two hours to take the circuitous bus, train, and then bus route to the airport for my flight to Taiwan. My flight leaves way earlier than everyone else's, so I'll have the day to sleeplessly wonder around Taipei and I'll meet everyone else tonight at the Chocolate Box Hostel.
I got a research fellowship through the Center for Research in Economics and Strategy at WashU, and have been supposedly working on a research paper on franchise regulations all summer. The final deadline is tomorrow, and predictably, I still have quite a bit of ironing out to do before I can turn it in. Thus, I am bringing my laptop to Taipei as a sad consequence of my procrastination, and will be hanging out in a coffee shop for part of tomorrow in order to finish the paper. I am actually quite excited about handing it in, though, as it will be the longest paper I've ever completed at around 40-45 pages. If you require some light reading to put you to sleep at night, let me know and I'll send you a copy.
As I was restlessly daydreaming, I reflected on the fact that other than purchasing my airline tickets for Taipei, I have gone the whole month of September without making a purchase with a credit or debit card. I've been using cash for everything, as Visa levies a heavy fee on individual foreign currency transactions. This exclusive use of cash contrasts sharply with my normal spending, which takes place almost entirely through my credit or debit cards. I am curious what psychological effect this has been having on my spending, to part with cold-hard cash rather than swiping a card. I recently heard on a Marketplace podcast that when it comes to discretionary spending, people tend to spend over twice as much with a credit/debit card than with cash. However, perhaps this is negated by my spending in psychologically dissonant Hong Kong Dollars, where a $15 coffee is actually only around two US dollars.
In other news, I watched the very first episode of Mad Men (my procrastination knows no bounds) and am really excited about watching the rest of the series. I especially enjoyed the Bob Dylan song that concluded the episode.
Tuesday, September 29
Monday, September 28
Happy Birthday, People's Republic of China!
It is a very exciting time for the Communist Party of the People's Republic of China. On Thursday, they celebrate sixty years in power. The government has organized a massive celebration to take place in Beijing. There will be a military parade showcasing the best of China's new military technology and arms, involving 5,000 personnel and 150 aircraft. Also, there will be a 200,000-person parade with bands, dancers, and floats. They've been holding rehearsals for the last four months, and the grand finale is a 34-minute fireworks display in Tiananmen Square.
One Chinese man casually expressed his feelings for the upcoming celebration, saying "We just wanted to show our affection to our motherland and deliver the message that solidarity is power." Simple, but so eloquent.
This all sounded pretty exciting to me, especially because they only throw these giant birthday bashes once every ten years. I looked into arranging a trip to Beijing to experience the parade first-hand, only to find that I had underestimated the absurdity of the Chinese government.
Sure, they're closing down airports, streets, and businesses, hiring hundreds of thousands of extra security forces, preparing for four months, and setting up random ID checkpoints throughout the city for the month leading up to October 1st. Local businesses are losing money from random closures and street blockades,citizens are being constantly disrupted by parade rehearsals, and even kites have been banned during the celebration. But, it's all worth it, as the people of China get to come together and celebrate their love for their country in a massive display of pride. Right?
Oh, actually, no one is allowed to attend the parade. All of the hotels with views of the parade route are not allowed to rent out their rooms. Only a select few government officials and VIPs have been invited to watch the parade in person. The thousands of local university students that are marching in the parade are participating because it is mandatory. And, everyone in Beijing will be forced to stay at home and watch the celebration from China's TV network.
So, my plans to go to Beijing were thwarted. What could be a more fitting and symbolic way for the Communist Party to celebrate its sixty years of success in maintaining power in China?
Congratulations, Beijing...
My singular act of rebellion:
Tuesday, September 22
Why Sleeping Was Troublesome & English Debate
Probably in a fitful rage of pro-environmentalism, the Chinese University of Hong Kong has installed timers on all the air conditioning switches in the dormitory rooms. In order to turn on my air conditioning and insulate myself from the 90-degree heat, I must put money on my student card and load hours onto the timer.
Last weekend, at around 12:30am, I noticed that I had only 01:30:00 of remaining air, sort of like Apollo 13. My student card was depleted, the office was closed, and after donning my robe and going downstairs, I found that the add-value machine wasn't working. Luckily for the environment, my A/C remained off that night, saving hundreds of watt-hours for Mother Nature!
Also, I went to the information session for the English Debate Team, where "silence ISN'T golden." Yes, that's their actual slogan. In order to whet the appetite of the audience members, they staged a mock debate on the following resolution: The House supports that schools should mandate compulsory drug tests for its students.
The English Debate Team takes itself a bit more seriously than WashU's team. For example, I had to fill out an information sheet detailing my past debate experience and personal information to "apply" for the team. Tomorrow, to try-out for the team, I will give a speech for a panel of judges and then debate with the collective panel on random topics.
Despite how seriously they take themselves, they are still inherently and noticeably disadvantaged by debating in a second language. None of the speakers in the mock debate were particularly charming or persuasive, and much of their language and speaking is over-formalized and forced.
I also wasn't impressed with the scope of the debate. One side argued that catching kids was the only way to bring the "terrible moral dilemma of drugs" to the surface, while the other side noted that the "terrible moral dilemma of drugs" needed to be solved at its roots: parents, teachers, and drug smugglers. They all agreed positive results should be promptly investigated by the police. Neither side parsed the term drugs into anything more specific, nor did they question relevant issues like privacy, the efficacy of the war on drugs, logistics of enforcement, or protectionism.
I look forward to wooing them with my first language tomorrow. And, my favorite picture of the week:
Last weekend, at around 12:30am, I noticed that I had only 01:30:00 of remaining air, sort of like Apollo 13. My student card was depleted, the office was closed, and after donning my robe and going downstairs, I found that the add-value machine wasn't working. Luckily for the environment, my A/C remained off that night, saving hundreds of watt-hours for Mother Nature!
Also, I went to the information session for the English Debate Team, where "silence ISN'T golden." Yes, that's their actual slogan. In order to whet the appetite of the audience members, they staged a mock debate on the following resolution: The House supports that schools should mandate compulsory drug tests for its students.
The English Debate Team takes itself a bit more seriously than WashU's team. For example, I had to fill out an information sheet detailing my past debate experience and personal information to "apply" for the team. Tomorrow, to try-out for the team, I will give a speech for a panel of judges and then debate with the collective panel on random topics.
Despite how seriously they take themselves, they are still inherently and noticeably disadvantaged by debating in a second language. None of the speakers in the mock debate were particularly charming or persuasive, and much of their language and speaking is over-formalized and forced.
I also wasn't impressed with the scope of the debate. One side argued that catching kids was the only way to bring the "terrible moral dilemma of drugs" to the surface, while the other side noted that the "terrible moral dilemma of drugs" needed to be solved at its roots: parents, teachers, and drug smugglers. They all agreed positive results should be promptly investigated by the police. Neither side parsed the term drugs into anything more specific, nor did they question relevant issues like privacy, the efficacy of the war on drugs, logistics of enforcement, or protectionism.
I look forward to wooing them with my first language tomorrow. And, my favorite picture of the week:
Sunday, September 13
Imitation Las Vegas
I think that I have finally figured out my classes. At this point, I'm registered for: Intermediate Financial Accounting, International Finance, a graduate journalism class called 'feature writing,' and two Mandarin Chinese (Putonghua) classes. After one week I have learned how to say I love you (wo ai ni), you are my friend (ni she wo de peng you), and my favorite: do you love me? (ni ai wo ma). I have been practicing this last sentence in public places, such as the subway, much to the chagrin of my Mandarin-speaking friends.
The first week in my Putonghua classes was spent mostly practicing all the strange noises that my American mouth is not trained to create. Making nonsensical sounds over and over again as a class with a slightly over-enthusiastic teacher made me feel like I was in a rehabilitation class after a massive stroke or horrifying car accident. (Think "fee fi fo fum" x100)
In other news, I traveled to China's cheap attempt at Las Vegas this weekend, a city on the south coast of China called Macau. We took the TurboJet ferry there on Saturday morning, which took about an hour. Macau was a Portuguese settlement and was controlled by Portugal until ten years ago, when it was handed over to the Chinese government. Like Hong Kong, though, Macau maintains an independent currency, legal system, and basic government structure.
There is beautiful Portuguese architecture, such as churches, statues, and museums, interspersed among a relatively dirty and busy Chinese city. Macau feels like an underdeveloped Las Vegas. Just like Las Vegas was grimy and unpolished fifteen years ago, Macau is still undergoing growing pains. There are giant new casinos, cranes, and construction projects all over the city, but the current offerings of casinos feel empty and soulless. I've never been to Las Vegas, but I feel like there are things to appreciate aside from gambling: world-class restaurants, art museums, Cirque de Soleil, Broadway productions, the Bellagio fountain, and lots of other entertainment. In Macau, it just feels like they transplanted a bunch of glitzy buildings from Las Vegas, but only brought the slot machines and gaming tables.
Also, everything seems unpolished. The one museum we visited was empty, un-air conditioned (it was 95 outside), and staffed by Filipinos that knew nothing about what was inside.
On a more positive note, a dude from Miami and I went to the MGM Grand, which felt much more legitimate, and used the concierge service to get recommendations for a good Portuguese restaurant. They made reservations for us, booked us a taxi, and we spent our hour and a half of free time with our feet in the water at the beautiful infinity pool which looked out on the Friendship Bridge and the South China Sea. When we returned, the women was standing in the lobby waiting for us, greeted me as Mr. Fancher, and they escorted us to our taxi, which cost us $2 US each.
It was my first time trying Portuguese food. I had African Chicken, which is supposedly a renowned Portuguese dish. The origin of the name baffles me. My friend had octopus rice, which was also quite delicious. A big benefit to living in Southeast Asia is that my money takes me a very, very long way.
Before we caught the ferry back to Hong Kong, we saw Taiwan's display for the international fireworks competition.
I'll end this post with a little gem I found in the middle of Macau. Perhaps this sign means something completely innocuous, but those symbols look vaguely familiar... Notice my utter disgust:
The first week in my Putonghua classes was spent mostly practicing all the strange noises that my American mouth is not trained to create. Making nonsensical sounds over and over again as a class with a slightly over-enthusiastic teacher made me feel like I was in a rehabilitation class after a massive stroke or horrifying car accident. (Think "fee fi fo fum" x100)
In other news, I traveled to China's cheap attempt at Las Vegas this weekend, a city on the south coast of China called Macau. We took the TurboJet ferry there on Saturday morning, which took about an hour. Macau was a Portuguese settlement and was controlled by Portugal until ten years ago, when it was handed over to the Chinese government. Like Hong Kong, though, Macau maintains an independent currency, legal system, and basic government structure.
There is beautiful Portuguese architecture, such as churches, statues, and museums, interspersed among a relatively dirty and busy Chinese city. Macau feels like an underdeveloped Las Vegas. Just like Las Vegas was grimy and unpolished fifteen years ago, Macau is still undergoing growing pains. There are giant new casinos, cranes, and construction projects all over the city, but the current offerings of casinos feel empty and soulless. I've never been to Las Vegas, but I feel like there are things to appreciate aside from gambling: world-class restaurants, art museums, Cirque de Soleil, Broadway productions, the Bellagio fountain, and lots of other entertainment. In Macau, it just feels like they transplanted a bunch of glitzy buildings from Las Vegas, but only brought the slot machines and gaming tables.
Also, everything seems unpolished. The one museum we visited was empty, un-air conditioned (it was 95 outside), and staffed by Filipinos that knew nothing about what was inside.
On a more positive note, a dude from Miami and I went to the MGM Grand, which felt much more legitimate, and used the concierge service to get recommendations for a good Portuguese restaurant. They made reservations for us, booked us a taxi, and we spent our hour and a half of free time with our feet in the water at the beautiful infinity pool which looked out on the Friendship Bridge and the South China Sea. When we returned, the women was standing in the lobby waiting for us, greeted me as Mr. Fancher, and they escorted us to our taxi, which cost us $2 US each.
It was my first time trying Portuguese food. I had African Chicken, which is supposedly a renowned Portuguese dish. The origin of the name baffles me. My friend had octopus rice, which was also quite delicious. A big benefit to living in Southeast Asia is that my money takes me a very, very long way.
Before we caught the ferry back to Hong Kong, we saw Taiwan's display for the international fireworks competition.
I'll end this post with a little gem I found in the middle of Macau. Perhaps this sign means something completely innocuous, but those symbols look vaguely familiar... Notice my utter disgust:
Wednesday, September 9
Coffee & Fireworks
There is plenty to appreciate about Hong Kong: its energy and modernity, its proximity to yet freedom from China, cheap food, lush mountains jutting out of the South China Sea, efficient public transport, and a beautiful skyline. However, I must regretfully admit that after one week in Asia, I've found myself missing facets of American life.
I miss walking along tree-lined streets with no one else around. I miss a flat, easily walkable campus. I miss seventy-degree weather and less-than 85% humidity. I miss being able to carry on a fluid, cogent conversation with any of my classmates. I miss whole-wheat toast, vegetables, tomatoes, drinks without loads of sweetened condensed milk and sugar, and boneless chicken breast. I miss real coffee.
Adjusting my coffee consumption has been one of the most noticeable changes to my daily life. In the States, large cups of normal, drip-brewed coffee are readily available. Commercial access, along with my home-brewed cups of Joe enable me to fulfill my routine consumption of 4 cups of coffee easily. Here, a cup of coffee is usually instant and always small.
I've pared down my consumption to one mini-cup a day, complete with undissolved particles of dehydrated instant coffee powder, which, by comparison, makes the dregs of my American coffee seem like Kopi Luwak.
I miss the ritual of my habit. I miss waking up and looking forward to the smell of my morning coffee. That this is my most significant source of cultural dissonance on my first visit to Asia, I should consider myself privileged. And, I can look forward to the smell of gunpowder this weekend at the Macau International Fireworks Display Competition.
I miss walking along tree-lined streets with no one else around. I miss a flat, easily walkable campus. I miss seventy-degree weather and less-than 85% humidity. I miss being able to carry on a fluid, cogent conversation with any of my classmates. I miss whole-wheat toast, vegetables, tomatoes, drinks without loads of sweetened condensed milk and sugar, and boneless chicken breast. I miss real coffee.
Adjusting my coffee consumption has been one of the most noticeable changes to my daily life. In the States, large cups of normal, drip-brewed coffee are readily available. Commercial access, along with my home-brewed cups of Joe enable me to fulfill my routine consumption of 4 cups of coffee easily. Here, a cup of coffee is usually instant and always small.
I've pared down my consumption to one mini-cup a day, complete with undissolved particles of dehydrated instant coffee powder, which, by comparison, makes the dregs of my American coffee seem like Kopi Luwak.
I miss the ritual of my habit. I miss waking up and looking forward to the smell of my morning coffee. That this is my most significant source of cultural dissonance on my first visit to Asia, I should consider myself privileged. And, I can look forward to the smell of gunpowder this weekend at the Macau International Fireworks Display Competition.
Monday, September 7
Classes? I Thought This Was Vacation...
I had my first day of classes today, which was just two Mandarin Chinese language classes in a row. Normally I'd have a third class in the morning, but it was cancelled today. We are given fifteen minutes between classes, which is NOT enough time to make it across campus, especially when navigating the campus bus system, among other reasons.
Some observations:
1) Cryptic Casino-Style Buildings from which you can't escape
This one relates to not being able to make it to class on time. I'm not sure if it is specific to the university, or a general architectural principle in Hong Kong, but the buildings are EXTREMELY confusing. Sometimes, what seems to be one building on the outside will actually be two completely separate buildings on the inside. Transferring from one to the other requires walking outside. Or, being forced to take astoundingly slow elevators. Pretty sure my average wait for an elevator to arrive today was over 150 seconds.
Or, it is just impossible to get out of a building, because of random dead-ends and staircases that don't go all the way down to the street-level. For example, I was released from my first class today at 2:15PM. I did not escape from the building until 2:25PM... Hopefully, I will master the labyrinth.
2) CUHK students don't listen to iPods or wear sunglasses
I perhaps encountered one or two other students over the course of the day that had either sunglasses or an iPod. From speaking to some Singapore students, it sounds like they generally regard it as stupidly dangerous to drown out the ability to hear what is going on around you, for fear of getting eaten by a dragon or hit by a bus.
And, it sounds like sunglasses are regarded as frivolous. Which is odd when considered alongside my next observation:
3) Umbrellas are primarily used as a provider of shade.
Many people walk around the campus on a bright, hot day with umbrellas. It hasn't rained yet really, even though it is monsoon/typhoon season, but I am excited to see if umbrellas are ONLY used for sun protection. This would amuse me.
4) Learning a foreign language in English with a bunch of people whose first language is German/Cantonese/Finnish/Spanish/Korean/French is supremely awkward.
I am the only native English speaker in one of my sections of Mandarin Chinese.
Finally, a picture:
This women makes REALLY delicious thousand-year-old preserved egg tarts. I don't know how old the rotten egg actually is, but when you bite into it, it gives off a bit of an ammonia aftertaste...and it is supremely delicious. The place is called Tai Cheong Bakery. In the picture, she is baking egg tarts, which are much less weird, and equally amazing.
Some observations:
1) Cryptic Casino-Style Buildings from which you can't escape
This one relates to not being able to make it to class on time. I'm not sure if it is specific to the university, or a general architectural principle in Hong Kong, but the buildings are EXTREMELY confusing. Sometimes, what seems to be one building on the outside will actually be two completely separate buildings on the inside. Transferring from one to the other requires walking outside. Or, being forced to take astoundingly slow elevators. Pretty sure my average wait for an elevator to arrive today was over 150 seconds.
Or, it is just impossible to get out of a building, because of random dead-ends and staircases that don't go all the way down to the street-level. For example, I was released from my first class today at 2:15PM. I did not escape from the building until 2:25PM... Hopefully, I will master the labyrinth.
2) CUHK students don't listen to iPods or wear sunglasses
I perhaps encountered one or two other students over the course of the day that had either sunglasses or an iPod. From speaking to some Singapore students, it sounds like they generally regard it as stupidly dangerous to drown out the ability to hear what is going on around you, for fear of getting eaten by a dragon or hit by a bus.
And, it sounds like sunglasses are regarded as frivolous. Which is odd when considered alongside my next observation:
3) Umbrellas are primarily used as a provider of shade.
Many people walk around the campus on a bright, hot day with umbrellas. It hasn't rained yet really, even though it is monsoon/typhoon season, but I am excited to see if umbrellas are ONLY used for sun protection. This would amuse me.
4) Learning a foreign language in English with a bunch of people whose first language is German/Cantonese/Finnish/Spanish/Korean/French is supremely awkward.
I am the only native English speaker in one of my sections of Mandarin Chinese.
Finally, a picture:
This women makes REALLY delicious thousand-year-old preserved egg tarts. I don't know how old the rotten egg actually is, but when you bite into it, it gives off a bit of an ammonia aftertaste...and it is supremely delicious. The place is called Tai Cheong Bakery. In the picture, she is baking egg tarts, which are much less weird, and equally amazing.
Friday, September 4
Trip to the Mall
I thought I would share a video of my orientation roommate Nicholas from Singapore doing one of his magic tricks for 川西晴奈 from Japan. He didn't elicit quite as strong of a reaction from me...
This was in a little "fast food" joint in the Sha Tin mall, about five minutes by train from the university. A giant pile of fried rice and a Coke cost under $4 US.
This was in a little "fast food" joint in the Sha Tin mall, about five minutes by train from the university. A giant pile of fried rice and a Coke cost under $4 US.
 |
| From Hong Kong! |
Thursday, September 3
Discounts in Asia
Today is the last day in the orientation dormitory. I will move to my permanent residence in the "International House" tomorrow. It is apartment-style, with a balcony, TV, and living room, and kitchen split amongst 10-15 people. It is towards the top of the mountain, so the views of the surrounding area are incredible. Unfortunately, I am on the first floor, so I won't enjoy the view quite as much.
From the International House to the closest student canteen requires climbing 100 steps and then riding an outdoor lift up another 100 feet. There are many outdoor lifts and elevators on campus for people to go from one level of campus to the next, because the campus is built into the side of a mountain and in some parts it is too steep even for stairs.
I have found that one of the cheapest ways to garner huge discounts is to pretend that you're Asian. For airfares, I have heard that a flight that may be $400 USD on the American website is the equivalent of $150 USD on the Chinese language version of the website. Also, there seems to be quite a premium attached to Western-styled food.
You can see the menu for the "Western" coffee shop in the student canteen across from my orientation dorm. The price for a large brewed coffee is approximately $2 USD. However, literally steps away in the same building, you can order coffee from the cashier for under thirty cents US. Incidentally, in order to get the coffee from this "Western" menu, you have to order it through the SAME cashier that you would use to buy coffee for thirty cents. Yet, inevitably, many of my American colleagues are ensnared by this rather clever pricing scheme.
From the International House to the closest student canteen requires climbing 100 steps and then riding an outdoor lift up another 100 feet. There are many outdoor lifts and elevators on campus for people to go from one level of campus to the next, because the campus is built into the side of a mountain and in some parts it is too steep even for stairs.
I have found that one of the cheapest ways to garner huge discounts is to pretend that you're Asian. For airfares, I have heard that a flight that may be $400 USD on the American website is the equivalent of $150 USD on the Chinese language version of the website. Also, there seems to be quite a premium attached to Western-styled food.
You can see the menu for the "Western" coffee shop in the student canteen across from my orientation dorm. The price for a large brewed coffee is approximately $2 USD. However, literally steps away in the same building, you can order coffee from the cashier for under thirty cents US. Incidentally, in order to get the coffee from this "Western" menu, you have to order it through the SAME cashier that you would use to buy coffee for thirty cents. Yet, inevitably, many of my American colleagues are ensnared by this rather clever pricing scheme.
Wednesday, September 2
Arrival in Hong Kong
I arrived in Hong Kong last night after a collective 20 hours on airplanes, and had a day of orientation activities, setting up bank accounts, getting ID cards, etc. First and foremost, Hong Kong is SO HOT. It is insane. And, the campus is on a giant mountain, which makes it both beautiful and incredibly exhausting to walk around.
One of the things that has surprised me the most is how little English is spoken on the campus. Many times, when I have asked for directions, the students have absolutely no idea what I am saying. An interesting habit of Chinese people that speak English is that they add the word "actually" even if they're agreeing with you. For example, I asked a girl on campus if I needed to go left to get to a building I was looking for. She responded, "Actually, yes, you will go left." Perhaps it was taught as a polite gesture for the beginning of a sentence?
A couple pictures from my first days:
My first view ever of New York City, taken from the Newark airport
Yum. On-campus canteen (student dining) My lunch consisted of a giant pile of white rice with a chopped up piece of chicken which still had the bones running through it and a bit of oily cabbage. It cost $19.5 Hong Kong Dollars, which is approximately $2.50 US. Food is VERY cheap, and a little bit sketchy.
One of the things that has surprised me the most is how little English is spoken on the campus. Many times, when I have asked for directions, the students have absolutely no idea what I am saying. An interesting habit of Chinese people that speak English is that they add the word "actually" even if they're agreeing with you. For example, I asked a girl on campus if I needed to go left to get to a building I was looking for. She responded, "Actually, yes, you will go left." Perhaps it was taught as a polite gesture for the beginning of a sentence?
A couple pictures from my first days:
My first view ever of New York City, taken from the Newark airport
Yum. On-campus canteen (student dining) My lunch consisted of a giant pile of white rice with a chopped up piece of chicken which still had the bones running through it and a bit of oily cabbage. It cost $19.5 Hong Kong Dollars, which is approximately $2.50 US. Food is VERY cheap, and a little bit sketchy.
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