Apologies for being such a deadbeat blogger, there are many factors that contribute towards my lack of blogging prowess, (including parental visits, dodgy laptop and too many weekends gallivanting around and not staying at home long enough to blog) however, I'm back to updating once a week. (yay!)
Having spent the past few blogs pretty much bashing Hong Kong, I thought I would share an insight on what I think Hongkies do better than anybody else - and that's getting things done, hella fast.
Genuinely, if there's one thing that the Chinese can really excel at, its their undeniable ability to be bloody efficient.
Take for example, the time when my bus home was crashed into by a lorry in the middle of the motorway. Absolute nightmare. It was late, I was tired from work (I download music legally too.. I'm officially an adult, sigh) and most importantly, I was hungry. Hungry to the point where I was mentally evaluating whether a McDonald's number six meal (I can only order by numbers, damn my lack of Chinese menu-reading ability), noodles and dumplings with a side of steamed buns could be considered as just one meal. I was dreading the hours it would take for all this bus pallava to be sorted out, the hours standing between being rescued and finally getting my hands on all the food in the world. Having broken down in the UK in my tiny ass car before, where I waited a good 2 hours for the freaking RAC to turn up and save me, I thought a similar situation would transpire here. Sigh.
Oh, how wrong I was. Within fifteen minutes, we'd been moved to the hard shoulder, the police had turned up and taken statements, the lorry was carted off on a tow truck, and another bus had shown up to continue our merry journey home. Daaaamn girl, it was amazing! It was like nothing had ever happened!
On a grander scale, Hong Kong has the mighty Octopus card, which I think is pretty much the epitome of what efficiency is. Similar to London's Oyster card (except about 4834739343 times better), we use this for public transport as an alternative to cash, so all one has to do is simply *doot* their card and they can be on their merry way. Not only is it for public transport, it can be used pretty much anywhere - to buy coffee in the morning, to pay the bills, purchase cinema tickets, enter the swimming pool..the list can really go on. I can pretty much be like the Queen and not carry cash at all, as long as I had my octopus card on me. Not only does it mean I can survive on just using this lone card for the rest of my life (in HK anyway), it is undoubtedly more time effective. Just think how much faster it is to *doot*, rather than rummaging around a purse for the right change, then realising that you're 10cents short, then start rummaging in the bottom of your handbag, then pockets, then fuck it you're really holding up the queue so you'll just pay with a $50 bill instead.. yknow what I mean?
Efficiency is also apparent on a more day-to-day basis. From quick service at pretty much every restaurant and retail store in HK (in the UK, I spend an ungodly amount of time trying to make eye contact with waiting staff in restaurants because its polite, right? Over here, its a pretty much 'take my order NOW' hand raising situation) to sorting out phone contracts and opening bank accounts (which would've taken literally years and LOTS of to-ing and fro-ing back at home) everything just seems so much more fast paced, but equally as effective.
Yep, if there's one thing the Chinese can whoop yo' ass at, its being speedy and effective.
Monday, 17 September 2012
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Fashion terrorism - a serious threat.
Disclaimer:
Now before I write this post, I just want to clarify that I am not a fashion expert, in any way, shape or form. Having just bought these absolute beauties (I WILL stop talking about them..eventually) I can confidently say that my sense of fashion is somewhat alternative.
However, this does not excuse the levels of absolute fashion terrorists in Hong Kong. Inspiration for this blog post has been brewing over the past few weeks now, but what really cemented the need to type this all out was the complete atrocity on the MTR on Friday night, that I will never, ever be able to un-see. Remember doing food pyramids/pyramids of biomass in Year 7 Biology? That was my first thought upon seeing this particular lady's hair. That was just the side. The top was short and spikey, much like a mullet, and the back was long and plaited. I mean, how do you even begin to ask the hairdresser for that kind of cut?! And it doesn't even stop at the hair, oh no. Her outfit was a big, tight mess of sparkles and pink, kind of what I would imagine a unicorn's vomit would look like. But most horrifying of all, she was definitely of the same age group as my mother.. I mean, I really love my mum, but there is absolutely no way I would let her out of the house dressed anything like that. It was monstrous.
I think that's the thing over here. Everyone wants to stand out and be 'individual', which equates to some rather bizarre fashion choices, as illustrated below.
Fashion knowledge really is poo-poo.
I can't tell what makes me angrier, the elasticated, denim hareem pants, the white socks and ballet pump combo, or the hideous t-shirt.
.......I think it might have to be the socks.
I don't understand the leggings and shorts situation here. Just what are you doing with your life?
Those few pictures above offer just a brief glimpse into the world of day-to-day fashion terrorism. It's pretty scary, right?
Androgyny is another prominent feature within Hong Kong, to the point where it is borderline impossible to tell if the person is male or female (look for Adam's apple!). A shockingly large amount of girls have their hair cut and styled like they're part of a Korean boyband, dress in clothes that are obviously designed for the male persuasion, walk and talk like boys to the point where they even have their own slightly derogatory label - 'TB', short for tomboy. It's actually kind of astounding, how they manage to erase all feminine features and achieve a look that really does beg the question, "what sex are you?!".
I can let androgyny slide by, but the one thing that I can not, for the life of me, understand is why so many ladies of my mother's (and above!) generation insist on dressing like they're twenty years old. The phrase "mutton dressed as lamb" has never been truer!
Its very strange. I was stood behind a woman wearing a short, hot pink, Juicy Couture velour tracksuit yesterday. She had her legs out, hideous high heels on, hair dyed and curled, so I naturally assumed she was around my age. Biggest shock of my life when she turned around, and even with her face covered in make-up she was definitely touching 40 years old. I mean, come on love, who do you think you're kidding?!
Just get a grip, accept the fact that you're getting old, and dress like it. Get yourself down to M&S like a self-respecting, middle-aged woman and stop buying clothes from the likes of Forever 21. Juicy Couture is NOT acceptable past the age of....actually Juicy Couture is just not acceptable, ever. Jeeeeez.
On a parting note; death to socks and sandals. Just choose one or the other, this is one of rare times when BOTH really is not an option.
Sunday, 8 July 2012
A foray into the Land of Pushers, Squatters and Spitters.
First of all, apologies for not posting last week as I was galavanting around Mainland China, playing in hotels and unable to connect to any fun webpages as I completely forgot that pretty much everything is banned in China. Somewhat conveniently, this ties in beautifully with this post..
Okay, a brief summary of events here. Although Hong Kong is technically back in China's hands after the Brits had 99 years of reign, we have this whole 'One Country, Two Systems' thing going on. This is pretty much where Hong Kong gets to do what it wants without having to conform to China's laws and regulations. Basically this means we get to do a hella of a lot of things that they don't. This also means that mainlanders, (as we like to call 'em) have to apply for a visa to live and work in HK.
There are many reasons for this (I can't even begin to go on about this, my fingers would fall off there would be THAT much to type...!) but let me just outline the most prominent one below..
This mystery trip into PRC is the first time I've been in over 10 years, and I can't really say I'm in too much of a hurry to return. Why, you may ask? Sure, it was stunning; I liked how unlike Hong Kong, there is actually space to move and breathe. There was grass and trees, it was picturesque and breath-taking.. I can probably come up with a few more generally pleasing adjectives to describe the scenery and carry on.
However, I can come up with a whole lot more negative adjectives to describe the culture, or more specifically, the mainland Chinese mentality. I mean, I've had the odd encounter with them before, but pretty much nothing could've prepared me for what I experienced on those fateful two days.
Now, as previous posts have suggested, I'm quite particular in terms of manners and general politeness (although I officially became a Hongky on Friday.. After three long months of keeping it in, I finally let my anger out and tutted at someone who was walking to slow. And then glared. Walking etiquette is important!) but I was just appalled. There was just no order, in anything!
Now I'm quite the fan of queuing. It works, right? You want something, you wait patiently for your turn, jobs good. Nah, totally pointless in PRC. They just push and shove you out the way (not too gently either!), because whats the point in queuing when they can just march right to the front and not wait?
They litter. They pee in public. And what is with the squatting? Why does everybody squat?! It's just a general lack of respect not only for others, but for their surrounding environment too.
For example, I was having lunch in a pretty busy restaurant on Saturday, somewhere in Guangzhou. (Don't ask me where, I don't have a clue.. I'm not really too sure where Guangzhou is actually..hmm.) When suddenly, a tour bus load of mainlanders arrive, obviously hungry but with no tables available to accomodate them.
The normal situation would've been for them to wait patiently either in reception or outside, and wait for available tables. Right? I'm pretty certain that's what I do when I have to wait for a table normally.
The actual situation is that I found myself surrounded by people, literally right over my shoulders, watching me eat. This is pretty intimidating, and unbelievably uncomfortable. Feeling pretty awkward, we decided to just finish up quickly and leave, and I swear I hadn't even finished lifting my left butt cheek off my chair before someone had decided to sit down. Who does that?!?!
Its the lack of respect, integrity and general decorum within the PRC mindset that has negated my viewpoint on China as a whole. Its shocking to think that it only takes ten minutes to cross the HK-PRC border, yet the culture is so vastly different.
Sunday, 24 June 2012
Chivalry is not just dead, it's decomposed and become a zombie.
It started with a massage.
Just for clarification, an actual massage, opposed to a "massage".. you know the ones I mean.
So Friday night, what better way to kickstart our weekend than with the first ever massage of my life, right?
Let's put it this way, I've never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. It was truly the most excruciatingly pain I've ever felt (he was using his ELBOWS! I thought he pushed one of my vertebrae out of my spine!) to the point where I was laughing insanely because the only other option was to start crying. There was one moment when I thought he was trying to rip my head off my neck, and then he lured me into a false sense of security by telling me it was all over.. then BAM! he simultaneously cracked every joint within my upper body in one go. I felt like a walnut.
In all fairness though, I do feel about 540432320 times better, the masseuse gave me a geography and Chinese lesson at the same time (we bonded over our strange accents) and I will be returning to have another go.. but just not yet.
So after wobbling our way out of the massage parlour -seriously we were shaking!- my housemate (lets call her D.A. for now, to protect her privacy and all that. D.A. stands for David Attenborough, as she has a weird tendancy to go off on one about the trees and flowers and shapes of leaves.. jeeeeeez!) had a friend of a friend who wanted to meet her, as he was interested in joining her company. Naturally, I was dragged into this as I work within the same industry and I could also shed some light about my experience etc.
This is where it starts going downhill. After D.A. and I's suggested bar was turned down as a meeting point, we went to meet with this friend of a friend (lets call him Mr. Socially Awkward) at his choice of bar, where he had two friends with him (Mr. Man Bag and Mr. Smokes Too Much Weed). Now, I was starting to feel a bit put out because:
a) it was hands down the dodgiest bar EVER. And I studied and drank in Yorkshire for 3 years, so that's saying something. I wanted to sanitise my entire person within 0.3 seconds of entering.
b) as their names suggest, the present parties were slightly...odd.
I'll break it down for you;
Mr Socially Awkward, Mr Man Bag and Mr Smokes Too Much Weed are all locals, but studied abroad in a big name, West Coast American university so I thought they'd have a bit of banter, y'know? Nope. Not even a bit. It was painful.
And this is what I've really noticed about the general male population in Hong Kong. They generally have no idea how to interact with girls!
They study so hard to become a doctor or accountant or engineer, they truly are brilliantly academic and ambitious to boot, but have the social skills of a brick wall. Why is this?
But sometimes, it's not even that. I don't know if I've been spoilt by the gentlemanly ways of the Brits, but when I first arrived in Hong Kong I was completely shocked when guys didn't hold doors open for me.. instead just letting it swing shut in my face! Or on the bus, when guys don't give up their seats for girls. (Actually, no one gives up their seat for anything out here, its every man for himself) Or letting the girl go first. Or paying.
Are my expectations too high? Genuinely, I don't think so. Its common courtesy, right? And before the feminists go crazy, it is a two-way thing. I was brought up polite- I hold doors open for others, I give up my seat for the elderly and pregnant, I let others walk first, I say please and thank you.. I genuinely thought that was how everyone acted in the world. Oh, how wrong I was.
I can honestly say that this is one of the things that I miss the most about home (apart from Sunday roasts and my mum) - a bit of chivalry. Seriously, HK men are NOT gentlemen.
Back to the socially awkward situation. D.A. and I weren't particularly impressed. I mean, Mr Socially Awkward invited us out and we were technically doing him a favour by answering all his questions, so we assumed he'd be getting the drinks in for us. Understandable expectation, as if it was the other way round, and I was the one seeking advice from a stranger that had purposely jiggled their plans to meet with me, I would've bought them, no question. Nope. Paid for our own drinks. I mean, come on! This is not acceptable behaviour. I can't cope with this level of sheer ignorance! It was already bad enough that I've had better conversations with my stuffed panda, but this act of unchivalry was literally the straw that broke the camel's back.
So onto the conclusion of that fateful Friday night. D.A. and I ranaway. In spectacular fashion, I might say as well. Whilst giggling madly during our escape, I distinctly remember D.A. saying, "Shit, this is blogworthy!", so here it is, in all it's glory. I'd been thinking about how less polite Chinese society is, compared to what I'm used to, but I guess what happened on Friday night just cemented it all (onto this blog anyway).
Just for clarification, an actual massage, opposed to a "massage".. you know the ones I mean.
So Friday night, what better way to kickstart our weekend than with the first ever massage of my life, right?
Let's put it this way, I've never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. It was truly the most excruciatingly pain I've ever felt (he was using his ELBOWS! I thought he pushed one of my vertebrae out of my spine!) to the point where I was laughing insanely because the only other option was to start crying. There was one moment when I thought he was trying to rip my head off my neck, and then he lured me into a false sense of security by telling me it was all over.. then BAM! he simultaneously cracked every joint within my upper body in one go. I felt like a walnut.
In all fairness though, I do feel about 540432320 times better, the masseuse gave me a geography and Chinese lesson at the same time (we bonded over our strange accents) and I will be returning to have another go.. but just not yet.
So after wobbling our way out of the massage parlour -seriously we were shaking!- my housemate (lets call her D.A. for now, to protect her privacy and all that. D.A. stands for David Attenborough, as she has a weird tendancy to go off on one about the trees and flowers and shapes of leaves.. jeeeeeez!) had a friend of a friend who wanted to meet her, as he was interested in joining her company. Naturally, I was dragged into this as I work within the same industry and I could also shed some light about my experience etc.
This is where it starts going downhill. After D.A. and I's suggested bar was turned down as a meeting point, we went to meet with this friend of a friend (lets call him Mr. Socially Awkward) at his choice of bar, where he had two friends with him (Mr. Man Bag and Mr. Smokes Too Much Weed). Now, I was starting to feel a bit put out because:
a) it was hands down the dodgiest bar EVER. And I studied and drank in Yorkshire for 3 years, so that's saying something. I wanted to sanitise my entire person within 0.3 seconds of entering.
b) as their names suggest, the present parties were slightly...odd.
I'll break it down for you;
- Mr Socially Awkward - it genuinely felt like it was the first time he'd ever spoken to a female. He was nervous, he didn't know where to look and all I wanted to do was tell him to grow some balls.
- Mr Man Bag - had a bit of chat, put in a bit of effort, but maaan, he was sipping his pint AND he had a designer man bag.
- Mr Smokes Too Much Weed - dopey, slow, couldn't tell if this was with the influence of class B drugs or without.
Mr Socially Awkward, Mr Man Bag and Mr Smokes Too Much Weed are all locals, but studied abroad in a big name, West Coast American university so I thought they'd have a bit of banter, y'know? Nope. Not even a bit. It was painful.
And this is what I've really noticed about the general male population in Hong Kong. They generally have no idea how to interact with girls!
They study so hard to become a doctor or accountant or engineer, they truly are brilliantly academic and ambitious to boot, but have the social skills of a brick wall. Why is this?
But sometimes, it's not even that. I don't know if I've been spoilt by the gentlemanly ways of the Brits, but when I first arrived in Hong Kong I was completely shocked when guys didn't hold doors open for me.. instead just letting it swing shut in my face! Or on the bus, when guys don't give up their seats for girls. (Actually, no one gives up their seat for anything out here, its every man for himself) Or letting the girl go first. Or paying.
Are my expectations too high? Genuinely, I don't think so. Its common courtesy, right? And before the feminists go crazy, it is a two-way thing. I was brought up polite- I hold doors open for others, I give up my seat for the elderly and pregnant, I let others walk first, I say please and thank you.. I genuinely thought that was how everyone acted in the world. Oh, how wrong I was.
I can honestly say that this is one of the things that I miss the most about home (apart from Sunday roasts and my mum) - a bit of chivalry. Seriously, HK men are NOT gentlemen.
Back to the socially awkward situation. D.A. and I weren't particularly impressed. I mean, Mr Socially Awkward invited us out and we were technically doing him a favour by answering all his questions, so we assumed he'd be getting the drinks in for us. Understandable expectation, as if it was the other way round, and I was the one seeking advice from a stranger that had purposely jiggled their plans to meet with me, I would've bought them, no question. Nope. Paid for our own drinks. I mean, come on! This is not acceptable behaviour. I can't cope with this level of sheer ignorance! It was already bad enough that I've had better conversations with my stuffed panda, but this act of unchivalry was literally the straw that broke the camel's back.
So onto the conclusion of that fateful Friday night. D.A. and I ranaway. In spectacular fashion, I might say as well. Whilst giggling madly during our escape, I distinctly remember D.A. saying, "Shit, this is blogworthy!", so here it is, in all it's glory. I'd been thinking about how less polite Chinese society is, compared to what I'm used to, but I guess what happened on Friday night just cemented it all (onto this blog anyway).
Saturday, 16 June 2012
Ooooh, blogging.
Why hello there.
I think I'm best off explaining why I've decided to start this up (I probably could have decided upon a more hardcore hobby like watermelon-pip spitting or paragliding.... blogging seems kinda vanilla in comparison).
Inspiration hit this afternoon, where it was raining so hard that I momentarily thought I was back in the UK (THAT heavy) and made the executive decision to not leave the house and ruin my only pair of boots (sparkly Doc Martens fyi). No seriously, there was an actual chance that I could've drowned, its raining that bloody hard. So, there I was, casually catching up on trashy UK news courtesy of dailymail.co.uk (I'm not even ashamed to admit it either!) when I came across an article about that girl in Scotland, who takes pictures of her 2 quid school dinners and rates them. It was literally a lightbulb moment.
Approximately three months ago, I made a somewhat impulsive decision to book a plane ticket and relocate myself 6021 miles away from home. I arrived with 46kg of my worldly possessions, nine pairs of shoes and what I thought was a competent grasp of the language. Having being born and raised in a tiny town just outside of Manchester, UK, for the entirety of my life, I kinda have to say this is a big-ass change.
Now, I can readily admit that even when I was in the same country, I was absolutely atrocious at answering texts, calls, emails, and any other forms of communication. Now that I'm not in the same country, and throwing the time distance aside, I haven't really made much of an improvement on this front. SO! That's where this blog comes in. (genius!) I'm thinking I can keep you all updated on my weekly adventures (but mostly misadventures) this way, and then you can't get so mad at me. :)
I've had enough time to 'settle-in' and all that, but frankly there are still so many things that can only be described as an absolute culture shock. I think the main problem is, although I'm ethnically Chinese, my mentality and way of thinking is completely like a Brit.
For example, when waiting for a train (YES I did catch public transport..a few times) in the UK, one tends to wait for passengers to alight first before getting on board. Makes sense. This does not happen in Hong Kong. It is literally survival of the fittest. The second the train doors start sliding open, you march right on inside that carriage like your life depends on it, and even if there's no more space, you will cram yourself in regardless (there was one time between TST and Admiralty in the morning where I swear my feet weren't actually touching the carriage floor).
And that's the other thing. I could understand the mad urge to wedge yourself in if the next train doesn't arrive for another half hour, but the trains here run every 2-3 minutes. (I realised I was a true Hongky when I was getting irritated waiting more than five minutes for a bus..actual foot-tapping and watch glaring too!)
And the other thing. I thought I was bilingual, and my Cantonese was fluent. (operative word: thought) This is not the case. My language skills, frankly do not cut the mustard. My vocabulary is somewhat to be desired for, and don't even get me started on pronunciation!
It's actually embarrassing. It's getting to the point where even I don't even understand what I'm trying to say sometimes.
But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I apologise for not being around, but please accept this blog as a token of my affection. I promise to write frequently! :)
Aaaand now I'm going to go. Final Destination, the couch and strange Japanese snacks are calling.
Peace out, cub scout xo
I think I'm best off explaining why I've decided to start this up (I probably could have decided upon a more hardcore hobby like watermelon-pip spitting or paragliding.... blogging seems kinda vanilla in comparison).
Inspiration hit this afternoon, where it was raining so hard that I momentarily thought I was back in the UK (THAT heavy) and made the executive decision to not leave the house and ruin my only pair of boots (sparkly Doc Martens fyi). No seriously, there was an actual chance that I could've drowned, its raining that bloody hard. So, there I was, casually catching up on trashy UK news courtesy of dailymail.co.uk (I'm not even ashamed to admit it either!) when I came across an article about that girl in Scotland, who takes pictures of her 2 quid school dinners and rates them. It was literally a lightbulb moment.
Approximately three months ago, I made a somewhat impulsive decision to book a plane ticket and relocate myself 6021 miles away from home. I arrived with 46kg of my worldly possessions, nine pairs of shoes and what I thought was a competent grasp of the language. Having being born and raised in a tiny town just outside of Manchester, UK, for the entirety of my life, I kinda have to say this is a big-ass change.
Now, I can readily admit that even when I was in the same country, I was absolutely atrocious at answering texts, calls, emails, and any other forms of communication. Now that I'm not in the same country, and throwing the time distance aside, I haven't really made much of an improvement on this front. SO! That's where this blog comes in. (genius!) I'm thinking I can keep you all updated on my weekly adventures (but mostly misadventures) this way, and then you can't get so mad at me. :)
I've had enough time to 'settle-in' and all that, but frankly there are still so many things that can only be described as an absolute culture shock. I think the main problem is, although I'm ethnically Chinese, my mentality and way of thinking is completely like a Brit.
For example, when waiting for a train (YES I did catch public transport..a few times) in the UK, one tends to wait for passengers to alight first before getting on board. Makes sense. This does not happen in Hong Kong. It is literally survival of the fittest. The second the train doors start sliding open, you march right on inside that carriage like your life depends on it, and even if there's no more space, you will cram yourself in regardless (there was one time between TST and Admiralty in the morning where I swear my feet weren't actually touching the carriage floor).
And that's the other thing. I could understand the mad urge to wedge yourself in if the next train doesn't arrive for another half hour, but the trains here run every 2-3 minutes. (I realised I was a true Hongky when I was getting irritated waiting more than five minutes for a bus..actual foot-tapping and watch glaring too!)
And the other thing. I thought I was bilingual, and my Cantonese was fluent. (operative word: thought) This is not the case. My language skills, frankly do not cut the mustard. My vocabulary is somewhat to be desired for, and don't even get me started on pronunciation!
It's actually embarrassing. It's getting to the point where even I don't even understand what I'm trying to say sometimes.
But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I apologise for not being around, but please accept this blog as a token of my affection. I promise to write frequently! :)
Aaaand now I'm going to go. Final Destination, the couch and strange Japanese snacks are calling.
Peace out, cub scout xo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)