Friday, December 30, 2011

Hong Kong Day 22: Visiting the presidents

Since I'm leaving in two days, the day started off with my stuff being packed.  And by my stuff being packed, I mean I slept in while my mom packed my stuff.  If Betty is going to be a total mom, who am I to say no to being spoiled?

After picking up my Hong Kong passport (finally, all of my document craziness has been settled), we went for a quick wonton noodle lunch at a popular restaurant.  As we were eating, the couple next to us (for the record, a Chinese couple) asked for a knife and fork.  I'm not sure how or why anyone would need a knife and fork to eat some wonton noodles, but it didn't matter since the reply was "We don't have any here".  Touché.

Having satisfied our hunger, we made our way over to my mom's old colleague's business.  Turns out he does frame work...and and also doubles as an art dealer.  And he definitely has some interesting art pieces.
Why is Jimmy Carter standing by himself?

After chatting for a bit, we did the Chantastic tour of my old neighborhoods.  Where I lived in Hong Kong before coming to Canada, where my former daycare/nanny lived, the schools my parents had picked for me if I had stayed in Hong Kong, my dad's old high school, the whole nine yards.

Having finished the Chantastic family tour, I went for, yep, another family dinner with numerous uncles and aunts.
My drink, of course, would be the one on the left, known as the "Pink Lady"

After dinner, we went home.  I stopped off at the corner store because my parents wanted to grab something - see, I'm not spoiled all the time - and when I returned to our apartment building, I found my mom in the lobby with the concierge guy vacuuming some blankets in a plastic bag.  It turns out that Betty had had some trouble fitting the new comforter and silk covering she had bought for me into my suitcase (note to all the FMCs out there: if you spend the night, you get to sleep with silk on your skin), so she decided to suck out all the air with a vacuum, and then kept the air out with a knot.  In other words, she was vacuum sealing part of my luggage with a vacuum cleaner.  And it actually worked!  Betty's the best.

Plans for Day 22, my final full day in Hong Kong: a bunch of relatives and I are going to take a ride on a famous cable car tourist attraction here.  Again, I'm afraid of heights, so this could get interesting.  Also on tap is a dinner with the art framing guy and some other of my mom's old colleagues.  Strangely, no finite plans for the countdown have been made.  My parents might be in bed by that time.  Talk about an anticlimactic finish to the trip.

Actual hugs 3.5, non-hug greetings 27 (I've entered the farewell phase of my trip, and received a handshake from an aunt tonight)

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Hong Kong Day 21: I'm on a boat!

The day started with a trip to Aberdeen for lunch on one of their boat restaurants.
Jumbo Floating Restaurant

Since these restaurants are literally on the water, they have a variety of seafood dishes.
Noodles in crab meat soup

Afterwards, we went to Stanley, a tourist attraction near a beach on the other side of Hong Kong Island.  At this point, I turned amateur photographer.  I'm multi-talented like that.
My attempt to be artsy with the overhanging leaves

My attempt to be artsy with the couple on the right and the family on the left

My attempt to be artsy with the couple on the right.  I've thought about it, and I've decided that taking a picture of a couple I don't know in an embrace is not at all creepy.

Probably the best picture I'll ever take.  If it's considered mediocre because it doesn't follow some sort of photography rule, well, there's a reason I'm not a photographer.

After the photoshoot, we went for some good 'ol fashioned hot pot.  It was pretty much the last thing on my to do east list in Hong Kong, so I've officially exhausted all the various ways to turn into a fatty here.

Following dinner, we went up to the Peak for a quick tour.
The view from The Peak

Since it was rather late and we were at the top of the highest mountain on Hong Kong Island, it was windy and a bit chilly.  Betty, being the total mom that she is, started freaking out about it getting cold, and told me to put on a sweater vest that we had brought along.  I answered with my typical "I'm from Edmonton, I wear what I'm currently wearing out when it's 0 C outside" answer.  Could I appease her and put on the sweater vest?  Sure, but that's no fun.  It's way more fun to watch Betty get into a tizzy over something like this.  She started nagging me louder and louder - remember, we're still in a public tourist attraction - until she was practically yelling at me to put on the sweater vest in front of a bunch of strangers.  She was in such a hurry to get this sweater on me that she tried to convince me to put it on over my jacket, which a) would look ridiculous, and b) probably doesn't do a lot in terms of keeping me warm.  Finally, I relented to the sweater vest, though I knew I was going to put it on the entire time but refused to do so to see my mom get all worked up.  By this time, my mom was in such a frenzy that she decided to help me put on a sweater vest at a major tourist attraction in front of a bunch of strangers.  Just picture a grown man being scolded by her mom to put on a sweater vest, followed by her helping the grown man put on a sweater vest.  Betty's the best.

Did I try to push it even further?  Of course I did.

Unfortunately, Betty declined my request to zip up the sweater vest for me.

Actual hugs 3.5, non-hug greetings 26

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Hong Kong Day 19-20: A dinner unlike no other

Day 19 began with a return trip to the Sha Tin Racecourse.  But to continue the theme of this entire trip, we were put up in the members only restaurant for the entire day so we wouldn't have to mix with the commoners.  Afterwards, my dad and I went straight to the wedding reception of the daughter of one of my mom's friends.  This would turn out to be quite the evening.

First, we were seated at our table, after which our table's server asked what I would like to drink, and gave me a list of options.  I decided on some orange juice, and the server poured the OJ into my glass...and then proceeded to splash some down on my chopsticks, spoon, the table, and my napkin.  And not just a bit.  There was so much OJ in my spoon that I could literally pour it back into the glass.  I had to dry off my chopsticks with my already-OJ-stained napkin.  It was the worse case of pouring that I had ever seen by a restaurant server.  This wasn't a one-time event, either.  Every time I would drink some OJ, the server would come by to refill my glass, and the exact same thing would happen.  This should have been a sign that it was not going to be an ordinary dinner.

If you're unfamiliar with how Chinese event dinners work, it goes like this: there are many courses to be shared by each table, usually around eight to ten.  The dish is brought to the table, we eat it, the server whisks it away, and on with the next dish.  At most restaurants (and all fancy restaurants), the server will split the dish up into bowls or plates for each person after bringing it to the table so that we don't have to do it ourselves.  The spill-prone server at our table splits up the first course, no problem.  After she is finished, some guy at our table tells her that she doesn't need to do that for future courses.  What the hell?  Why is this guy going out of his way to make more work for everyone at the table?  This annoyed me, and not just because I'm lazy.

And then we found out why.  When the second course came, the same guy made a beeline for the food as soon as it hit the table.  Instead of having the food equally split by the server, this guy asked for the server to not split the food so he could grab more of the food he likes for himself.

What an absolute asshat.

This goes on for every course - some courses, he's literally reaching across the Lazy Susan at our table to get at the food even as someone else is in the midst of serving themselves.  When it's food he's not interested in, he barely budges and goes to the next table to talk to his other friends.  Unbelievable.

Around the fifth course, Miss Spilly announces the next course (which is something that takes a bit of skill to split and can easily become messy) and asks if we would like to have her split it for us.  Right as I say "Yes, that's a good idea", another person (not the original asshat) says "No, we can do it ourselves".

I give up.

But the topper of the night happened shortly thereafter.  The guys at the next table had been drinking quite heavily, so right around the seventh course or so, someone passed out at the table.  At first, it looked like he was just sleepy, but it became clear that he was passed out drunk after a couple of minutes.  A few nudges did no good in waking him and it became clear that he was in no condition to continue the meal.

Here's the funny thing about Hong Kong restaurants: women barely tipping the scales at 100 pounds are everywhere, but there aren't a lot of beefy 200 pound guys to be found.  It became clear that his dead weight wasn't going to be moved by anyone from the restaurant staff, so a few of his friends made an effort in taking him out of the restaurant.

I don't think he moved an inch.

Clearly, there was nothing to be done...except continue eating.  That's right, the table proceeded onto the subsequent courses with a guy passed out headfirst on the table.  No joke.  They ate for a good half hour with this guy's face on the table like it was a table piece.

After they were done, it was time to wake him.  Those 100-pound women aren't very useful in moving heavy objects, but they can most definitely get you a bucket of hot water and some washcloths.  They also channeled their inner air stewardess by bringing him some bags for him to throw up in.  There's no need to get too graphic, but all you need to know is that we saw firsthand evidence of the brandy he had been drinking that night.

Nothing quite as exciting as that happened during Day 20.  We visited my uncle's place, which had quite the view, followed by...a family dinner.  Shocking, I know.
I was told that the fog made it hard to see, so this is what the view from my uncle's place looks like on a bad day.  OK then.

But the family dinner began for some - including me - at 4 PM so we could play some mahjong before the meal.  It doesn't matter what the gambling opportunity is on this trip, I'm going to take it.  I'm multi-talented that way.

Day 21 plans: Another suit fitting, another nationality-document pick (don't ask me what), followed by a lunch at some place called Aberdeen - I think I'm going floating tomorrow.  This will be followed by - you guessed it - a family dinner.

Actual hugs 3.5, non-hug greetings 26

Monday, December 26, 2011

Hong Kong Day 16-18: The argument heard around the block

Day 16 began with my cousin's wedding, but since my days are filled with following the agenda put forth by my traveling secretaries parents, I wasn't sure of the exact location of the wedding and reception.

It was being held at the Sha Tin Racecourse.  Back to the race track I go.

Breaking news: The people in the building beside mine are having a full scale argument with someone else. Their windows are easily seen from my window, and I can see them going back and forth to the window to yell at someone.  They actually opened their window to yell at the other person - I saw them walk over to do it when the commotion first started.  I'm not sure who they're arguing with, whether it's someone below or above them, or even if it's someone in the same building.  This has easily gone on for 15 minutes.  My mom and I have been watching this person pace back and forth from their kitchen to the window for five minutes, trying to figure out what they're saying (my mom says it's a different dialect of Chinese that she doesn't understand) and what they're arguing over, but we're not exactly sure what's going on.  As a result of this breaking development, I completely lost my train of thought about the wedding.  Just know that it was incredibly amusing and funny.
The view from my bedroom window.  I've watched the neighbor go from the area on the far left to yell out of the open window on the right for well over 10 minutes now.


Anyway, after the wedding, I immediately changed into my normal clothes and embarked on my trip to Macau.  First class seats on the ferry again.  Personal driver pickup again.  Back to another 5-star hotel.  As I told my parents later, if they want me to go on vacation with them in the future, it must be 5-star all the way.  That's how I roll now.
View from my room during the day.  I can't get over the golf course on top of the Venetian.

Unfortunately, the poker table was full at the Venetian and I couldn't get a spot to play even though I waited a long while.  And since the smoky atmosphere isn't the ideal situation for someone with Chantastic allergies like myself, I left.

Tangent time: I need to talk about the air quality in Macau.  Specifically, the air quality indoors as a result of everyone - I repeat, everyone - smoking.  Here's what I've seen people do while smoking in Macau - talk, gamble, eat, drink, loiter, and piss.  They probably smoke when they're dropping a deuce but I just haven't seen anyone emerge from a public washroom stall with a cigarette in hand.  There isn't a moment when these people from China aren't smoking.  It's like a scene from Mad Men, except Christina Hendricks is nowhere to be found.  I don't have a problem with people smoking if it doesn't affect me.  This is my stance on most controversial issues: gay marriage, religion, etc.  So long as you're not trying to bang me in the butt or make me believe that a divine book has all the answers, you can do or believe whatever you want.  The same is true of smoking.  You can puff away on those cancer sticks until you need a ventilator so long as it doesn't affect me.

Well, it affects me in Macau.  And I don't like it.

Every time someone blew smoke in the air and it ended up right in my face, my allergies and I were agitated.  How come they're allowed to influence the air I breathe and I can't do anything to the air they breathe?  And that's when I came up with a solution:

For every time someone blows smoke in my face, I should be able to fart in their face once.


Doesn't that seem fair?  Every time you make me inhale something gross, I make you inhale something gross.  An eye for an eye, right?  This seems just.

Anyway, the next morning I woke up bright and early to go for breakfast, followed by a 10 AM visit to the poker table at the Venetian.  Literally my third hand at the table, here's what happens:

Blinds 10/25, pre-flop raise to 100, one caller along with myself.
Flop comes Q-9-9.
Original raiser goes all in (holding a pair of Aces).
The other person calls (he has K-9).
What do I do?  Shove all-in.  1365 into the middle.
K-9 guy calls.
What am I holding?  Two queens.  Full house.  Yay, money!


I leave for lunch, followed by a visit to the spa, then a nap, followed by dinner and more poker.  A tough life I lead, I know.  Unfortunately, I'm not as lucky this time around and lose 1500 HKD at the tables.  Well, at least I have this view to look forward to when I go back to my hotel.



Breaking news update: The argument is over.
The light on the left is off, the window on the right is closed.  They live to argue another day.


Before we leave, we decide to watch the Dragon's Treasure show at our hotel.  As has been the case all along, we get comped VIP tickets.
VIP one last time

As we bypassed the regular line and entered the theatre first, we heard someone say in outrage, "How come they get to enter first?!"  Betty and I laughed.  I thought to myself, I think I've become those VIP d-bags that everyone hates.

After the show, we grab our luggage and head to the concierge to have our driver take us to the ferry terminal.  As I realize that there's too many of us to fit in a car and we must take a van instead, here's the thought that went through my head.

You mean we're going in the Nissan van instead of the BMW?  That's kinda disappointing.


Yep, I definitely became the VIP d-bags that everyone hates.


Day 19 plans: You're never going to believe this, but I'm going to the horse track.  It will be my fourth visit to a horse track in 19 days.  Following that will be a wedding reception.  As a result, I'm going to the horse track in a suit.  Also of note is the list of people who I will know at this wedding reception: my mom, my dad, and my mom's friend (who I met for the first time at the radio station five days ago).  That is all.  I look forward to many awkward conversations tomorrow evening.


Actual hugs 3.5 (Executive Decision: I have counted an arm around the shoulder from my dad's friend when we were saying farewell as a half-hug), non-hug greetings 25

Friday, December 23, 2011

Hong Kong Day 15: Betty is as Betty does

Today began with collecting my Hong Kong ID card and ended with a dinner with my mom's old boss.  In between, I opened a bank account so that I could collect HK$6000 (my favourite part of the website is that the official English name of the program is "Scheme $6,000").

We had visited a couple of weeks prior but were turned away because they would not accept my temporary Hong Kong ID card.  The same teller - a girl in her mid 20s - recognized us and welcomed us back to the branch.  After she helped us through the process, my parents and I sat down on a couch about fifteen feet away but still within visual distance.  This, of course, gave Betty a chance to do what she does best.

Betty (eyeing the teller): She was really nice.
Me (Heeeeeere we go): Uh-huh.
Betty (still eyeing): Seems like a good person.
Me (I wonder how long she's going to beat around the bush): Yep.
Betty (pretending to read through some bank brochures): I think she's pretty.  Do you think she's pretty?
Me (Almost there...): Yes.
Betty (looks at me): I think she'd make a good wife.
Me (...and there it is.): Too bad I'm leaving in a week.

Upcoming for Day 16-18: A cousin's wedding (I'm not going to lie, I haven't seen this cousin in 11 years and wouldn't know her if I bumped into her on the street), followed by my return to Macau for another two night stay.

Actual hugs 3, non-hug greetings 22

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Hong Kong Day 13-14: Bling bling

Here's how you know Hong Kong loves horse racing: the literal translation for the Chinese name of one of their two racecourses is "Horse Racing Land", but the English name they actual give it is "Happy Valley".  In other words, they translate horse racing to "happy".

I visited Happy Valley for the first time last night, and it was a pretty spectacular view from where we sat.
The view to the left from our seats.
This is the view of the finish line from our seats in the members stand.
The view to the right, which also gives you a look at the walking ring.

Sadly, I could not reproduce my horse racing magic from Macau and lost bets in all eight races.  It goes to show that even I can't be Chantastic all the time.

Today began with dim sum at 9 AM with my dad's old business partner and a business associate of theirs.  First off, Chan doesn't do 9 AM.  I'm surprised everyone didn't get that memo.  Second, my dad was in the jewelry business in his working days, which means all of his business associates are also in the jewelry business.  I was told that after dim sum, we were going to visit the business associate's factory where the jewelry is designed and made.  I wasn't sure what this place would look like, but I sure didn't expect to see what I saw.

We walked in, and there were a bunch of people at workstations making jewelry.  And oh yeah, there were diamonds and gems everywhere.  I repeat, everywhere.  Apparently this former business associate owns one of the most respected unique jewelry companies in the world, and the factory I was visiting specialized in custom-made, expensive jewelry.  And to make that happen, you need a lot of diamonds.

I'm from Edmonton and even I think that that's a lot of ice.

Not only do you need a lot of diamonds to make custom jewelry, you need some gems.  Some over-the-top, bigass gems.
The coin is used to demonstrate how big this emerald was, which is apparently worth a quarter mil Canadian.  Also note the bling randomly strewn about in the background.  It was like that everywhere.

And not only do you need bigass gems, you need different types of bigass gems.
Pearls with small diamonds surrounding the entire necklace on the left, two diamond rings (each roughly 6-7 karats) on the right.

Throw those altogether and you accumulate a pretty decent jewelry box.
I call that thing on the right "The Bracelet of Champions".

Well, that was definitely some kind of factory tour.  Next up, we were supposed to stop by my mom's friend's workplace to pick up her daughter's wedding invitation.  I was not aware that she worked for a radio station. Photo op time!
I clearly do not need a co-host.

After my radio career came to a premature end, it was time to go for dim sum for a second time - I'm still on pace to come home a fatty when this trip is over.  But not before we made a brief detour to my uncle's jewelry office.
I'm no expert, but I don't think these come cheap.

And with that, my day of jewelry ogling came to a close as well as the jokes about what types of jewelry I should be giving to the FMC...

Upcoming for Day 15-18: Day 15 will be for collecting my Hong Kong ID card and possibly going on some kind of cable car ride up a mountain, which should be fun for someone who is afraid of heights.  Gulp.  Day 16 will be my cousin's wedding, followed by my triumphant return to Macau and its 5-star extravagance along with some more poker, with a return to Hong Kong on Day 18.  Since I'll be arriving on Christmas Eve and leaving on Boxing Day, I look forward to playing more poker with clueless tourists.

Actual hugs 3, non-hug greetings 22

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Hong Kong Day 9-11: From peak to trough

I was supposed to go on a three day, two night trip to Macau with my parents, my buddy Lam, my aunt and uncle, and a couple of business partners they were bringing along.  All I knew was that my uncle was taking care of everything, and that he had scheduled us to stay at a 5-star hotel.

My first inkling that this was not going to be a regular trip was when we set foot on the ferry for the hour trip to Macau...and were promptly directed to the first class deck.  I had no idea this was part of the plan.  On the Macau ferry, first class is in the upper deck while everyone else is on the main deck.  But since first class has the luxury of leaving the ferry first upon arrival, the commoners regular people non-ballers economy class must stay behind a rope and watch with envy as those first class jerks descended from their first class throne.  Well, I was one of those first class jerks descending from my first class throne.  I rather enjoyed it.

My second inkling that this was not going to be a regular trip was when I was walking from the ferry towards immigration, and was told we should hurry because our cars were waiting for us.  I did not understand why the term "cars" was used instead of shuttle bus since I had been told that there were shuttles going everywhere in Macau and I would rarely, if ever, need a taxi.

Something must have been lost in translation and "cars" is probably just an abbreviation for any transportation, and we want to hurry to avoid having to cram into a loaded shuttle with a bunch of those common folk economy class passengers, I thought to myself.

I passed through immigration and discovered, no, my uncle definitely meant cars.  And by cars, I mean City of Dreams had sent two of their drivers to pick us up in their BMWs.  I had no idea this was part of the plan.

My third inkling that this was not going to be a regular trip was when I arrived at the Crown Towers.  There was the five star hotel I stayed at while in China...and then there was this, which completely blew that hotel out of the water, both figuratively and literally.  Never have I experienced luxury like this.  I had no idea this was part of the plan.

My fourth inkling that this was not going to be a regular trip was when I opened the door to our room.  I can tell you with certainty that we were staying in the Deluxe Room...because the bathroom looked exactly like this.  A few days later, my mom was wondering how much the room had cost and asked the front desk.  The answer was not what I expected: "You cannot book these special rooms.  These are reserved for our VIPs only."  I had no idea this was part of the plan.

My uncle was apparently a VIP at the hotel, and this led to my fifth inkling that this was not going to be a regular trip.  I was told that we could go to the special lounge on the top floor at our hotel for free breakfast and late snacks.  You literally could not visit the top floor unless you were a VIP member and cardholder or were visiting with the cardholder.  Good thing I'm staying with the cardholder then, now isn't it?  I had no idea this was part of the plan.
Having taken care of our ridiculous accommodations, it was now time to do some sightseeing and photos.  First up, our hotel at night.
The Crown Towers, Hard Rock, and Grand Hyatt are part of The City of Dreams.

Across the street is the Venetian.
There's a small golf course on top of the non-hotel part of the Venetian.  Seriously.

A quick shot of the Wynn taken later.
If you look closely, you can see the MGM in the background on the right.
Enough with the silly pictures.  It was time to get down to business.  And by business, I meant we were on the hunt for a poker table in Macau.  Easier said than done, however.  Only the Venetian had a Texas Hold 'Em poker area (baccarat is the game of choice here), and that's where we played.  Two main takeaways from my night of poker:

  1. It is easy to play poker with the nuts.
  2. It is easy to play poker with tourists who don't really know what they're doing (it was a Saturday night).
Even though I bought in with 1500 HKD and was playing at a 10/25 table, I walked away early Sunday morning with 3000 in winnings.

The next day, I went for a quick breakfast on the exclusive top floor, followed by a trip to the Macau Jockey Club for a day of regular horse racing.

Or so I thought.

I thought it was strange that my uncle said he was coming with us, but would only stay for a bit.  Why come if he wasn't going to stay long?  Well, whatever it was, it couldn't possibly top the hotel he just put us up in, right?

Wrong.
He was coming to escort us here.
I'm an honorary racing steward!

My uncle was putting us in a box with horse owners, catering, and a not too shabby view of the racecourse.
I suppose this will have to do.

Oh, did you want a view of the hotels too?
That would be the Venetian in the background.
Having taken care of us, my uncle departed so we could get our gamble on.  And by get my gamble on, I mean I made 10 HKD (approximately $1.50 Canadian) bets on races.

After a couple of near misses, I finally hit in Race 4 on #11 for a return of $99.  Since I was averaging one 10 HKD bet per race, and there were only eight races on the card, this meant I would be walking away with a bit of money in my pocket even if I lost every race afterwards.

Taking a look at the program for Race 6 and making an attempt to handicap how the race would unfold, I liked how things would likely break for #9, so I made my usual bet.  For some reason, not a lot of the betting public seemed to have the same opinion as me about good 'ol #9.
This means I bet 10 HKD on Race 6 for #9 to win.

The race starts...and well, there's no point in having me narrate the race when the video is available online (just be on the lookout for Turquoise Profit with the jockey in a teal shirt).

If anyone was looking towards the Honorary Racing Stewards' Box during that those one minute and nine seconds, they would have seen me become progressively more and more excited until I was losing my mind down the stretch with the horses racing towards the finish line.

Why?  Well, because I had taken a look at the odds right before the race, and knew that if my horse won, it would lead to this.

Turquoise Profit indeed.

There's no way this day could get any better, right?

Well, turns out there's an owner in our box with a horse running in Race 8.  He tells us he's going down to the paddock area to take a look at his horse and have a chat with his trainer and jockey before he saddles up.  Would we be interested in possibly stepping in some horse crap going with him?

This trip is absurd enough as it is.  Why not go hang out with some horses?
If you look closely, you can see #5 galloping right by the finish line.   That was the owner's horse.
Where the winner's photo is taken after each race.

Sadly, the owner's horse didn't win even though he received a Chantastic visit prior to the race.  This was sad on two levels:
  1. Since I had visited with him, I threw down my usual $10 on him to win, and his final odds were 45 to 1.
  2. If he had won, I would have been allowed to take part in the winner's photo.
That night, I went back to the Venetian to play poker.  Unfortunately, it was now Sunday night instead of Saturday, and thus all of the easy tourist money had left.  A few hours of play and a loss of 400 HKD later, it was time to go home.

The next day, we checked out of our room but left our luggage at the hotel to do some sightseeing.  As we left the hotel, I couldn't help but wonder if this was the peak of my existence: first class travel, exclusive five star deluxe room, VIP treatment at the hotel, winning a few bucks playing poker, sitting in an owner's box and walking inside the paddock with a horse owner, and hitting on a 77 to 1 longshot.  Does it really get any better than that?

We spent the day walking through the tourist parts of Macau, from the Ruins of St. Paul's to Hac Sa Beach, which literally translates to Black Sand Beach.  It was there that I needed to use the restroom, so I found the park washroom and walked inside.  Even I could appreciate the stark contrast.

I had gone from 5 star treatment to peeing into a trough.

Upcoming for Day 13 (Day 12 featured some shopping and nothing else of note): lunch with more distant relatives, followed by another round of horse racing at night.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Hong Kong Day 8: Potential girlfriends, future wives, and fake gay partners

Noodles for lunch at noon, followed by dessert, then dim sum at 3, with a dinner at 7:30 to cap things off.  That's how to eat like you want diabetes a champion.

I've spent an enormous amount of time on the Hong Kong public transit system, and there's two things I've noticed.  The first is how much more efficient everything is here.  The second is how I feel like a giant on every form of public transportation.  I'm not exactly a giant by North American standards - a tall 5'9", or more preferably, a short 5'10" - but above average for Hong Kong.  More importantly, space is at a premium everywhere in Hong Kong, even buses and subways.  So I find myself scrunched over on double-decker buses since my head would otherwise graze the ceiling, and I've lost count of how many times I've hit my head on the dangling hand supports on the subway since the crowded subway leads to me being pushed in various directions.  My conclusion: being tall is overrated unless you enjoy being unceremoniously smacked in the head or face.

When I hopped on the subway today, there were four tall young leggy Caucasian girls sitting across from my parents (being the dutiful son that I am, I let my parents sit - I'm not that spoiled).  They appeared to be from Russia, Ukraine, or Poland given the language they were speaking and in town for either a fashion shoot or some kind of dance/ballet gig.  When we hopped off the train, I asked my mom her opinion of the four, and who she thought was the best looking.  These are the ridiculous conversations I have with Betty (for the record, she preferred the brunette on the left while I preferred the blonde on the right, though she was closely followed by my mom's choice as a FMC).  Finding a good spouse also came up as a topic of discussion at dinner with a table of fourteen Chantastic relatives.  Since all of the cousins present were already married, they naturally started talking about me, and when I'll get a girlfriend, and maybe I have one and my parents just don't know, and perhaps the next time I visit Hong Kong I'll be accompanied by the Current Mrs. Chan (CMC), but then maybe it will be a while before that happens because it's difficult to travel such a long distance with small children, but then maybe I won't have that problem because the CMC will have children with a baby daddy so they'll be past that age, but wouldn't that mean that she'll be way older than me?  As you can see, it spiraled out of control quickly.

I also visited my uncle's condo after having dim sum with him.  He has a cat, and my mom loves cats.

I repeat: Betty loves cats
The plan for Days 9-11: A trip to Macau with my parents, my aunt and uncle, and my buddy Lam.  I wonder if my relatives will make the leap to thinking that I'm gay with Lam.  After all, we're both single guys and both timed our trips to Hong Kong together.  Hell, if I'm wondering if people will think that, then people are probably going to at least ponder it.  It doesn't help that Lam will never be confused with the most masculine person on Earth.  He'd definitely be the bottom.

Actual hugs 3, Non-hug greetings 21 (I'm not double counting relatives I've already seen)

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Hong Kong Day 7: Icancomehomeandgowithyou, Icancomehomeandgowithyou, Icancomehomeandgowithyou, Icancomehomeandgowithyou

Who had Day 7 in "The Chantastic Allergies Finally Succumbs to Poor Air Quality" Pool?

The first order of business for the day was taking care of more government applications (I'm finally done), followed by a fitting of a partially made suit from my measurements of Day 2 (the suit is being rushed because I have a wedding to go to on Christmas Eve).  After a quick lunch, I went home to take a Little Chan and recover from my allergies.

When I woke up, I had to navigate the bus and subway system to meet my parents for dinner.  Did I mention I had to do this during rush hour?  I was nearly squished to death.  If you're claustrophobic, you best not visit Hong Kong, and you definitely should steer clear of any public transportation during rush hour.

Anyway, I successfully met up with my parents (despite my dad's concern, who phoned me and said "I can come home and go with you" literally four different times during a one minute conversation) and we walked over to a restaurant for dinner with some distant relatives.

Did anyone parlay their Day 7 in "The Chantastic Allergies Finally Succumbs to Poor Air Quality" bet with Day 7 in "The Mediocre Chantastic Chopstick Skills Finally Leads to Dirty Clothes" bet?  Sauce splattered all over my shirt even though none of the food actually did as I somehow caught it in my hand.  Fortunately, my parents have been without the privilege of spoiling me for over half a year, so the first thing my dad did was wash the shirt when we arrived home.  And yes, I most definitely just said that it's a privilege to spoil me.  Future Mrs. Chan, please take note.

The itinerary for Day 8: A trek over to the far side of the island to visit the area where my late grandmother is interred, followed by a visit with my uncle, shoe shopping (time permitting), and (you guessed it) another family dinner.

Actual hugs 3, Non-hug greetings 20 (this doesn't include the nine distant relatives I met today)

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Hong Kong Day 5 & 6: If we're Chinese and we were confused in China...

Quick update: Day 3 now has a photo of the private room.

My overnight stay in China began with a two hour trek via the subway and railway station to the China border, followed by us navigating through immigration and customs.  Contrary to what most non-Asian North Americans believe, there is a difference between Hong Kong and China even though they both belong to the same country now.  Even The Chantastic Blog can be educational once in a while.

It didn't take very long for me to experience the infamous mainland China culture of etiquetteless-ness (if you didn't think it was possible for me to make up a word with two suffixes and have it make sense, you clearly haven't read enough of this blog).  In fact, I hadn't theoretically even stepped foot into China - it was right after I had left Hong Kong immigration and was lining up for my luggage to be scanned before entering China.  There was a lineup of about 10 people to the metal detector that we all had to walk through, but there was a corner right before the X-ray machine, so the line formed a haphazard L-shape, with five people on either side of the corner.  That is, until person #11 came along and walked in a straight line from the end of the L (person #10) to the front of the L (person #1) even though there was clearly a single-file line.  No regard for the line whatsoever.  No regard for the other ten people in line (which included me).  Just a whole lot of "I'm looking out for #1 and I don't really care about anyone else".  It was jawdropping, even for someone like me who is well aware of how mainlanders are known to act from time to time.  Fortunately, everyone in line did a collect "WTF?" and essentially shamed the person back to the end of the line.  This was high comedy to me.

We ended up taking a train and a subway to our destination, the Chime-Long Hotel, but not without some incidents along the way.  First, I was nearly trampled coming off the subway.  In China, they do not wait for people to exit the subway before boarding.  Oh no, that would make way too much sense.  Remember, the general motto is "I'm looking out for #1 and I don't really care about anyone else".  So instead of an orderly exit and entry from and onto the subway, the people looking to get on just surge in when the doors open, while I'm trying to exit with a suitcase.  I may or may not have a dropped an F-bomb as I fought my way through.

Second, the subway system in Guangzhou makes no sense at all.  Go to their subway system map and I'll walk through what we were trying to do.  Got it?  Good.  Let's see if this makes sense to you because it sure as hell doesn't to me.

We started at the Guangzhou East Railway Station in the middle of the map on Line 3 (orange).  Our destination was south at Hanxi Changlong, which is also on the orange Line 3 (third last stop).  So this seems to be easy, right?  Hop on the Line 3 going south and get off when the subway reaches our stop.  How hard could that be?

Ah, but that would make too much sense.  Take a look at what happens two stops south of the Guangzhou East Railway Station at Tiyu Xilu.  Specifically, look to the right of that intersection.  Notice that Line 3 goes both ways.  Apparently, there's the Line 3 that starts at the top of the map (Airport North) and ends at Tiyu Xilu, and then there's the Line 3 that starts at the Tainhe Coach Terminal Station, meets at Tiyu Xilu, and continues to Panyu Square.  Essentially there are two Line 3s, with nothing in common except that they cross at Tiyu Xilu.  Why they didn't rename and color code one of the two Line 3s separately, I'll never know.

We get to Tiyu Xilu, which is the final stop on the first Line 3, only we didn't know it at the time, so we're completely confused.  When the subway stops, we're told to get off (since it's the end of the first Line 3)...only the doors on both sides of the subway open.  Again, WTF.  We're already confused because we must exit, only we don't know which way to exit.  We pick one side, and we're told that that platform is the second Line 3, only it goes north to the Tainhe Coach Terminal Station, and we were supposed to exit the other side to go south towards our destination.  We're told we should just cross through the subway car that we had just exited, but just as this is told to us, the doors start beeping to signify that they're about to close, so we don't get on for fear we can't cross over in time.  So what we end up doing is going up this huge escalator to the entry area, walking over, and then taking another escalator back down, so we're finally on the correct side of the second part of Line 3.  It was like a scene from a Mr. Bean movie or something.

Worst.  Designed.  Subway Naming System.  Ever.

Finally, we arrive at the hotel, which is pretty sweet (it is five stars, after all) since it's embedded within this huge animal safari, along with a waterpark, an amusement park, and a bunch of other stuff.  Our room had an interesting view, which would probably appeal to a very small subset of the human population.

The view of the waterpark and amusement park from my balcony: a pedophile's fantasy
That evening, we watched a circus show that happened daily on this huge property.  Note that I said circus.  Not that Cirque du Soleil crap.  We're talking old school circus - trapeze, clowns, guys on stilts, horses, bears riding bicycles, monkeys playing drums, dancing elephants, giraffes, all that jazz.  The politically incorrect, PETA-already-has-this-show-on-their-hitlist-and-it-makes-you-wonder-if-you-should-be-enjoying-it-as-much-as-you-are type of classic circus.

When we went back to the hotel, I discovered that what they say about the Internet in China is true: no Facebook and no Twitter.  Fortunately, ESPN.com is not banned.  Crisis averted.

Day 6 began with a breakfast buffet at the hotel, an afternoon return to Shenzhen, followed by watching Betty put on a bargaining clinic with some local merchants over a few belts I wanted to buy.  Anytime you can knock down prices by over 50% and say "I could have gotten it even lower, but I didn't feel like wasting my time", I assume you're doing pretty well.  The night ended with my mom having a mini-freakout because my dad was having a mini-freakout because I had to take a separate line at Hong Kong immigration.  I'd go into greater detail, but this is par for the course for my parents, and Chinese parents in general.  I just sit there and laugh and make fun of them most of the time.  And if Betty gets upset that I'm laughing, then I just start laughing at her even more.  And then I start making fun of her because she's trying to treat me like I'm 12, then she finally realizes how absurd the whole situation is, and starts laughing.  And then I've diffused the situation.  Rinse, lather, repeat.

On deck for Day 7: trying out my tailored suit from Day 2, more applications for passports, visas, or something (I've stopped trying to figure out what I'm applying for anymore and just show up as I'm told), a visit to my uncle's business, and some final preparations for my upcoming weekend trip to Macau.

Actual hugs 3, Non-hug greetings 19

Monday, December 12, 2011

Hong Kong Day 4: The Cleaning Ritual

Day 4 began with more passport applications followed by a trip to a tailor for material selection and measurement-taking for a couple of suits.  Since the suits were especially cheap at this place, there was a lot of hustle and bustle, and to put it mildly, I do not fare well in this type of environment.  After it was all over, I wanted to go home, take a Silkwood shower, and lie down on my bed.  Unfortunately, the day was far from done.

We had to go book our hotel for tomorrow's overnight trip to China.  I'd give you the name of the city, but frankly, I don't know where it is and don't much care and chances are you feel the same way, so let's just move on to the most important part of my visit to a travel agency - the sign that was in the waiting area:


I need to discuss this sign and what it could possibly be saying because I'm not really sure what's going on here.  The camera sort of makes sense, because it's telling us that they're monitoring the area for pickpockets, and so should we.  But if their security cameras were actually effective in preventing pickpockets, then there wouldn't be a need for this sign, right?  So the camera icon is actually telling me, "Hey, we have camera surveillance here, but they're really for appearance and don't actually do anything, so beware of pickpockets".
Can you explain the eyes to me?  Why are the eyes different?  If the eyes were the same, then the message would clearly be "Keep your eyes open and be alert".  That would make sense.  But why the dark, different eye on the right?  Maybe I should be half-alert but not fully afraid, hence only one out of my two eyes need to be on the lookout for sketchy people?  Are they saying that a regular person is the normal eyebrow on the left, but a pickpocket is the darkened eyebrow on the right, and thus I should be on the lookout for pickpockets, who I are inherently shady and can be spotted by their shady eyes?  Are they telling us that doing the People's Eyebrow will deter pickpockets?  I don't know.

The night ended with dinner at a restaurant that my uncles visit all the time.  Upon our arrival at the restaurant, my dad proceeded to engage in one of the more interesting customs here whenever people visit a restaurant.  He started washing his cups, chopsticks, spoons, and bowls with the hot water and tea provided by the staff for us to drink.  It's such a common custom here that restaurants will provide a big communal bowl for you to dump the cleaning water into once you're done, and pretty much all the locals are proficient in doing it.  My dad clearly has a certain style and specific procedure of how he carries out the washing.  And since we arrived early, my dad did it for everyone at the table.  This, of course, made me ask my dad why people felt the need to do this.

"Some of the dishwashers in Hong Kong aren't very good, so people feel the need to sanitize the cups before eating.  Though to be quite honest, it probably doesn't do anything and is more for peace of mind and a custom than anything else.  If there really was a problem with the dishwasher and there was an actual need to clean the bowls, cups and cutlery that you used, what about the plate that they'll be bringing your food out on?"

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the importance of today since it marks the beginning of the official countdown to the next season of The Bachelor, which starts in exactly three weeks.  I might be halfway around the world, but I don't forget the important things in life.

The plan for Day 5-6: Go to China with my parents and stay overnight at a 5-star hotel because let's face it, it's China and still kinda sketchy so you don't want to risk staying anywhere else I'm a baller now.

Actual hugs 3 (My dad's birthday), Non-hug greetings 19 (I received another handshake today, but I'm only counting the number of non-hug greetings that might have led to a hug if I were in North America, and this handshake came from meeting a non-relative, and thus does not count as a missed opportunity)

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Hong Kong Day 3: Ballers? Ballers.

The day began with a trip to the Sha Tin Racecourse, a spectacular overindulgence for the purpose of gambling that would make Las Vegas jealous.  Little did I know that it was the Hong Kong International Races Day.  Since my uncle had acquired a Hong Kong Jockey Club members only pass (that's just how the Chans roll), that meant I got an upfront view for the three things that I associate most with big horse racing days: rich middle-aged white guys in suits, rich white women dressed to the nines while wearing ridiculous hats, and very attractive daughters of the aforementioned two groups.  I'll leave you to ponder which of the three I enjoyed the most.

As part of the special racing day, the Hong Kong Jockey Club was giving away free hats.  My uncles and I unanimously agreed that they were ugly.  My aunts unanimously agreed that they were fashionable.  You can decide for yourself.


Later on, my aunt and uncle said that the three of us who were sitting together (my uncle, my dad, and myself) were shown on TV as they were panning to the people sitting around the paddock area.  True to form, my uncle was demonstrating the second Chinese superpower when we were on TV - he was fast asleep.

Before the races had even concluded, we raced (oh look at that, I'm so punny) over to the restaurant for my dad's 65th birthday.  Though I had no hand in actually organizing the dinner and thus had no idea what to expect nor what it would cost, I was nominally the person who was going to pay for the whole dinner.  I expected the dinner to consist of two tables (to fit the 20-odd people who were coming to the event) in a public restaurant.

That's not what I got when I arrived.

No, what I got was one big-ass table that seated 20...in a private room...on the third floor of a restaurant...in a private residential area...that was exclusive to their members only.  You literally could not even eat at the restaurant unless you had permission from one of the residents of this community.

Here was my thought process as this slowly dawned on me:

(Walking up to the residence and restaurant.)
This place looks posh.

(Going up the elevator.)
This place looks more posh from the inside.

(Arriving at the private room.)
WTF?  It's a private room?


(Pause.)
Wow, the Chans are ballers.


(Another pause.)
Wait, I'm paying for this.  Does that mean I'm a baller?


(A third pause.)
I think so, but I'm not 100% sure.  If I had known beforehand, I would have bought some bling and diamond earrings to make it official.

The best part of this room was that it reminded me of the third Chinese superpower.  On one side of this private room sat our ridiculously large table.  In the corner on the other side sat a mahjong table (which would have represented the fourth Chinese superpower if it could used in an interaction with non-Chinese people, but alas, it cannot), but in the middle sat a karaoke machine.  Let's just say that it did not go unused.  Aunts, uncles, cousins, my parents, wives of cousins, husbands of cousins...they all took a run at the mike at some point.  I only abstained because all of the available songs were in Chinese, which meant I was unable to sing any Mariah.



In the works for Day 4: possibly more applications for visas, opening up my first Hong Kong bank account so I can receive free money, getting measured for more suits from another tailor, and of course, another family dinner.

Actual hugs 2, Non-hug greetings 19 (I got a very nice handshake though)

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Hong Kong Day 2: Chinese Superpowers

Besides kung fu, all Chinese people are known to have one superpower: our superior ability to do math.  However, all superpowers have a kryptonite, and Chinese math is no different.  One word: jetlag.  The exchange rate is approximately 7.8:1, but I was having a hell of a time dividing prices by 8 in my head after waking up at 5 AM.

My day started with applying for various ID cards, visas, express visas, and possibly a mail order bride for all I know.  I filled out so many forms (and by "I filled out", I mean I watched my dad fill them out since a bunch of them were in Chinese) that I lost track what the hell I was applying for.  All I know is that my thumbprint is in the Hong Kong government database, and with that comes a premature end to my secret spy life.

Today was also a day trip with a few family members on my dad's side, and it was during this trip that I remembered a second superpower.  Our trip involved taking a ferry to an island, where we literally picked the live seafood we wanted to eat for dinner from a market, then carried the seafood to a restaurant where they cooked it for us.  The result is dishes like this:


The second superpower I recalled/rediscovered on the ferry there: the ability for Chinese people to fall asleep anywhere in public.  My dad and three of his siblings went on this trip (along with their significant others and a couple of more distant relatives).  My dad and three of his siblings all fell asleep at some point during the trip.

The plan for day 3: being at my first ever horse racing event in Hong Kong (which is like religion here), followed by my dad's 65th birthday dinner with all of his siblings and all their accompanying family members (or as Betty likes to call it, a "re family union") which somehow works out to 23 total attendees.

Actual hugs 2, Non-hug greetings 10 (the closest I got was a pat on the shoulder)

Friday, December 09, 2011

Hong Kong Day 1: The Beginning of a Social Experiment

My trip began with a flight to Newark, where I noticed a few guys in black suits, big black top hats, and bushy beards.  My initial thoughts: Is there such a thing as an Amish convention?  And when did the Amish begin flying?  Then one of them broke out a cell phone and removed their hat to reveal a yarmulke.  Fake Amish Jews 1, Chan 0.

If you have never taken a 16 hour flight before, it's definitely something.  I started going crazy after running out of things to do - there's only so much movie-watching, podcast-listening, and Battleship-playing one can do before they start losing it.

I landed and was greeted by hugs from my parents.  It was then that I realized those would likely be the only hugs I would give or receive during my entire stay in Hong Kong, despite my schedule of visiting with nearly all possible relatives that I haven't seen in a decade.  It's a cultural thing - Chinese people don't hug one another often (even family members), and just have an overall inability in expressing their emotions outwardly.  It's why Chinese people give more awkward hugs - we have less overall hugging experience, and there's a split second where we have to think to ourselves "Is this a hug or non-hug greeting/farewell?  This generates an interesting social experiment - what's the scorecard of hugs versus non-hug greetings that I will receive during my stay here in Hong Kong?  There's only one way to find out - and that's to keep a daily running scorecard on the blog.

On the bus ride back from the airport (Brief sarcastic tangent: I was shocked by the technology that they have for public transportation here.  They don't use tokens like in the GTA.  No, no.  They use this fancy "swipe card" technology.  I feel like I transported into the future, even though I use a swipe card everyday at work, and so do millions of other people.  Isn't it amazing that this technology can be transferred to public transportation in 2011?  I feel like I'm stepping into a TTC union-free bizarro world.), Betty started listing the family dinners that were on my schedule.  At this point, she said, "Try not to eat too much on this trip."  Apparently she missed the months leading up to my trip where I continually declared, "I look forward to stuffing my face for three solid weeks."  If I'm not a total Asian fatty and weighing 180 pounds when I get back (If you're white and think that 180 pounds seems low, that's because I'm Asian.  To convert from Asian pounds to white pounds, you multiply by 1.5, which would mean I would be 270 white pounds.), I will consider this trip a failure.

On the docket for day 2: applying for my Hong Kong ID card, visiting a tailor for a suit, and my first extended family dinner (which requires taking a ferry since it's on an island or something), all while fighting off jetlag.

Actual hugs 2, Non-hug greetings 0