Update from the arrogant traveler....

I promise I havent forgotten to write things, its just that there is too much to say about japan to do so succinctly or in a hurry, so I will likely attend to such things when when i get back this weekend.

From Hong Kong To Tokyo

I woke at 530 AM on Wednesday to prepare for my flight to Tokyo. Getting to and from the airport in Hong Kong is a relatively simple, though time consuming affair. There was a free shuttle that runs every 30 minutes from my hotel to the central station. There are two stations between the central station, located in the heart of Hong Kong, and the airport - Kowloon, a territory just across the bay, and Tsing Yi, which I know nothing about. At each of these stations travelers can check in for their flights and check their luggage, which really streamlines the process and makes travel much more pleasant. After you are checked in, the attendants at Northwest place a large red sticker on you. I thought they were just trying to be friendly and self promote, or that maybe Chinese people like stickers, but apparently it serves some purpose, as they took it away from me as i was boarding the plane and admittedly, I was a little sad.

The train ride takes 26 minutes exactly from central station to the airport and little tvs show news and other programming during the ride; each seat has a headrest with individual volume controls. One of the program shorts included the ever popular mentos in the coke bottle demonstration, and advise on how to maximize the resulting geyser. In Sweden the train from the airport to downtown is similar, however they showed a video on how to maximize safety when using escalators and transporting luggage. I checked with my Swedish coworkers to see if this is really a safety issue warranting such promotion. They had no comment.

The Hong Kong airport is incredibly efficient at peak travel times with regards to passport control and security. I was hoping to make a decision and vote for the immigration official of the month however once again, I found it difficult to chose. I wonder if the results will be on the airport web site. The airport has lots of people mover conveyor belts as well to get travelers to their gates quickly.

Regardless of other feelings, food in Hong Kong is delicious and the experience of eating an enjoyable one. Monday and Tuesday I had dinner with colleagues from our office and as both experiences were fairly similar, I’ll discuss them fairly interchangeably. The biggest difference was the location, Monday we ate in a restaurant, Tuesday in a more unique place. In some of the high rise apartment buildings individuals (usually those who own properties will superior views) will turn their homes into a restaurant and serve a couple to many tables throughout the night. Groups of diners are seated at tables with large flat wheels in the center of them so that food dishes and condiments can be easily circulated. Multiple dishes are ordered and are served as they are ready; seafood dishes generally start the meal and chicken dishes are last as they take the greatest time to cook. Seafoods are often kept live in bins around the restaurant until needed. Tea is available throughout the meal but rice is considered peasant food and is only available in restaurants for tourists and, in our case, the lone Indian vegetarian, who buried his head in a plate of fried rice to avoid looking into the eyes of the various dead things that found the way to our table.

In Hong Kong, typical local food is of the southern Chinese, Cantonese style. It is not spicy and is characterized by its simplicity and freshness of ingredients. Oysters are popular and served fried in omelets, barbecued on the half-shell, and with congee. Chickens are stewed or fried, beef is often served with a green. The Chinese use all the parts of the animal and our meals included pigs feet and goose neck meat and fat. The pigs feet were like small, firm, pieces of ham. Neck meat is generally a little greasy, a little gristly, and textured similar to a well done roast. This is my second encounter with neck meat, the first being in Kenya where they fry the meat from the slaughtered goat and serve it in warm blood. Congee, a gelatinous soup that can feature a variety of items, is served towards the end of the meal. Dim sum is considered to be a breakfast and lunch institution, however lotus wrapped rice concoctions may show up as a later course in the meal. The “meat” in these is as grey and unidentifiable as is in standard American dim sum fare and may also be very fatty or have bones in it. Unlike American Chinese food, each item has a distinct flavor and likely does not smell like trash when reheated (a common complaint amongst more then one roommate that I have had).

Desert may be oddly flavored dumplings (egg yolk and lotus leaf showed up at our table) or a simply sliced piece of fruit in a sweet sauce, such as apples in a plum wine.

Meals generally take 2 or more hours depending on the number of dishes ordered (2 to 10), number of persons present, and amount of alcohol consumed. Bottles of Tsing Tao are the norm, however on special occasions bottles of almost flat sparkling wine may flow. Much like in the US, meals will end abruptly when the check is suddenly presented to one party, expected to be paid immediately. People do not linger once this has happened.

Hong Kong

I must admit, in many ways Hong Kong did not leave much of an impression on me. Stanley was remarkably relaxing but beyond that it felt like a culturally bastardized economic center with tall shiny buildings and a love of what wealth can buy; a Chinese Manhattan on steroids. Transportation of all types was affordable and efficient, shops open until late, and restaurants abundant to accommodate the majority of residents are I was told that it is rare for people to cook in their homes. The streets were crowded and noisy. I departed wanting to learn enough Chinese to make a visit to the mainland more rewarding.

An Atfernoon in Stanley Village

Stanley is a small beach/market town in southern Hong Kong Island. After alighting from the chuckling cab driver I made my way to the flat of a couple who are family friends and who were kind enough to extend their hospitality to me for the afternoon. Entering the flat I was immediately drawn to the front window, which expanded the entire length and about half the width of the front living room wall. The view was spectacular and looked out upon Stanley Bay covered with windsurfers and fishing boats, as well as the small hills adorned with buildings that would later be covered in lights. After a necessary cup of coffee we headed out for a stroll. Compared to San Francisco it was incredibly hot and humid but the smog was beginning to burn off and show a blue sky. The beach looked soft and they told me that the water was generally clean and clear. We paused a minute to enjoy the lovely view and then headed into the market where I was eventually left to my own devices for a couple of hours to shop and wander.

The market is mostly covered and big enough to exhaust all but the most ardent shopper yet small enough that one likely wont pass out from heat exhaustion and overcrowding. Prices are reasonable (or so I am told having no other frame of reference) and goods range from the most touristy schlock (Chairman Mao alarm clocks) to everyday items such as clothes, shoes, and cooking utensils. The patrons also were quite diverse from tourists like myself trying to pick up some souvenirs to locals just trying to run an errand. The atmosphere was quite pleasant. Unlike your average East or South European or developing world market, no one was harassing me or anyone else to enter their shop or purchase their goods. If anything the proprietors maintained an air of indifference, which was only disappointing when trying to negotiate. They would simply shake their heads and indicate that you could pay or move on, it was all the same to them. Almost every shop and stand accepted credit cards.

When I tired of the market I went back to the flat of the aforementioned friends and we enjoyed a couple of cool cocktails before heading to dinner. The sunset was rather beautiful but incredibly short. Apparently due to the global positioning of HK the sun just suddenly drops out of sight and darkness sets in in a matter of minutes. They had made a reservation at a spanish/tapas style restaurant about 100 feet from their door. Walking in was rather amusing as every single employee in the restaurant paused to greet and welcome them. Sitting down a roving trio of local musicians featuring two guitars and one , uh, noise shaker player, came over to our table and sang "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" for me. They told us we could make two more requests. Their ability to mimic the voices and perfectly articulate each word of the songs was remarkable. They did not know Freebird.

Eventually, stuffed and just tipsy enough to ensure I would sleep through the night, I was seen to a cab and headed back to the lights and insanity of downtown.

How to Make Taxi Driver Laugh

Sunday afternoon, after a proper sleep in and a lazy brunch in the hotel, I was invited to journey to Stanley a beach side village in the southern part of Hong Kong Island to visit with some family friends who have lived in HK for over 14 years. Though I'm normally adventurous and enjoy getting familiar with public transportation they advised that a cab would be the best way for me to get there and being a little out of it i agreed. I had the concierge write the address that I wanted to go to in Cantonese to avoid any confusion and off I went. The ride was quite enjoyable, though I was prompted to put on my seat belt within 1 minute of getting under way. The locals here are not inclined to use turn signals and there was a lot of stop and go under hard breaking. The route went through the city briefly, onto a highway type structure, and off onto windy roads that ran through the small resort areas lining the beaches of the southern bays. This area hardly felt urban and tourists were wandering the roads everywhere. Finally the cab came to a stop at the head of the road where my hosts lived. On the weekends the road closes to traffic to provide a pedestrian walk way along Stanley Bay. I had noticed a small black thing sitting atop the dashboard of the cab, rather reminiscent of the credit card readers one sees in taxis in the US and Europe. I figured it wouldnt hurt to ask if he accepted credit cards seeing that this is not uncommon in most of the developed world and Hong Kong prides itself on its modernity. I showed him the card and asked if he could accept Visa. He laughed so hard at this question he turned red in the face and cried. After several minutes he managed to get control of himself and still chucking said "You nuts lady? This is taxi!!" and began to crack up again.

Building with Bamboo

The downtown area of Hong Kong is overloaded with buildings that are just a little too tall for my personal liking (not being a fan of extreme heights or elevators) - some in excess of 55 stories! The goal of builders is to make each building taller and glossier and build in half the time as the one before. Bamboo scaffolding is used here to support these structures when they are under construction. Not iron, steel, or diamond. But bamboo.

Out in the Stanley district they have been building a boardwalk that will run about 100 M. This board walk has been under construction for over 2 years. They, whomever they may be, have been saying that it will be completed with in 3 months for sometime. It is assumed that the project will take another two years. The board walk structure is also supported by bamboo.

However it came to light in discussion on this matter that bamboo has properties that make it weaker in a horizontal structure than a vertical one which explains why the board walk is taking so damn long . At least according to the little old man in the sports bar who was clearly an authority on the matter.

One physicist, two flights, three meals, the guy that asked for seconds, and the immigration employee of the month

I departed San Francisco late morning the day after thanksgiving on Northwest flight 27. I was to fly to Tokyo for a connection to Hong Kong. While standing in line waiting to check my baggage I found myself behind the guy that likes to talk to anyone who may or may not be remotely willing to listen. As the demure woman in front of him did not speak a lick of English, or at least had the luxury and good sense to pretend that she didnt, that left me as the target of his good natured but terminally dull discourse. He started talking to me mid-sentence, much like my mother does, under the assumption that I can in fact read his mind and understand where the train of thought began. He was talking about a lab somewhere and then his fold up bike, and then golfing and then back to his bike, and then finally something about a cyclotron. Perhaps my manners were a bit lacking, or perhaps it was just the day after thanksgiving hangover speaking, but i managed a "Hunh?" to which he responded "I'm Steve. I'm a physicist if you couldnt tell. I'm going to my lab in the hills outside of Tokyo for the next three months to work on a very secret project," in a way that clearly indicated he would probably tell me about the so-called secret project should i deign to ask. I didnt and he looked disappointed. Fortunately the seat selection gods were kind and I sat next to a very petite woman who folded up like a carnie and slept the whole flight.

I'm not quite sure where I got this image but I have always been of the impression that flights to asia are sort of like being on a flying carnival...multiple themed levels, elaborate cocktail bars and tea services, big fluffy slippers, and flight attendants dressed in their regional traditional apparel. Needless to say I may have been a bit disappointed upon boarding the plane though each seat did have video on demand which is pretty darn cool.

As part of a global effort to save money and screw travelers many US-based airlines now charge for booze on most domestic and european directed flights. It turns out they also charge on all flights to asia and between asian countries. This is tantamount to cruel and unusual punishment and should be reported to the UN Council for Human Rights.

Both flights were relatively uneventful and uninteresting, save the effects that eating three meals of airline food in less than 24 hours can have on you. The food was marginally better than that most recently experience on my trip to europe though one of these days I will remember to order a "special" meal since those always look a little less scary. Each selection featured fried rice plus a "meat", one shredded leaf of lettuce with a sprinkle of carrots and vat of ranch dressing, and a packaged roll with frozen butter. On the final leg from Tokyo to HK there was a choice of chicken or fish. Now having seen the movie Airplane! i know better than to order the fish. The young couple seated next to me apparently was not privy to this knowledge or less concerned about hatching eggs from their mouths and they chose the fish and ate it while chattering happily. And then the unthinkable happened. The guy asked the stewardess for seconds. He wanted more airplane fish. And they gave it to him. Dear god.

After 18+ hours of travel the plane finally landed in Hong Kong. The line at immigration was fairly substantial giving me time to note the ballots placed next to each somber looking official. "Vote for your favorite immigration official". Eh? Apparently the airport was having a contest for immigration official of the month and was asking patrons to help choose. On each ballot there was a box for the name and number of each official. Now, I think its great to reward public service however what exactly are the criteria for this competition ? Personality? Efficiency? Personal hygiene and grooming? Firmness with the stamp? As far as I could tell each official was a clone of the one before...all had the same stern glare and mechanical gestures and seemed to move at about the same processing rate. What does the winner get? Are there prizes? Bragging rights and increased self-esteem? A gift certificate for one of the 5 starbucks scattered throughout the airport? Its unfortunate that I will be leaving HK before the month's end as I am very curious to see the results of such an important contest.

On the road again.....

I have been given the good fortune, if one can call it that, to continent hop for business in a brief period of time. I spent the week before thanksgiving in Stockholm, Sweden toiling in my office and hotel room for about 12-15 hours a day. My adventures there included one hour of power souvenir shopping, a visit to the market for fresh preserves, and a quick stop to the grocery store for swedish cheetos for the one of my swedish coworkers. Sad to say the preserves did not make it back due to heightened security requirements that prohibit JAM due to its high level of explosive potential. I have one thing to say about this : FUCK YOU MR TERRORIST. I do not like you, you ruined my day and made me throw out $40 of jam that was to be delicious gifts for people. See, now these people dont like you either. Obviously you are winning some sort of battle if i have to live in a world where i cannot take water (yes, WATER, one of lifes most basic necessities) and delicious cloud berry jam on an airplane because you might have figured out a way to do something bad with them. But I digress. Now i find myself in a hotel room in hong kong and soon to hop off to tokyo. I wanted to perhaps share some stories from these adventures and figured since this was a well received forum before, it could be again. So stay tuned, I suspect I will write something once I figure out how to not blow up my computer when I try to charge it since I dont think the European various country voltage adaptor is going to be the right answer here......

Homeward Bound

We've made it to the Amsterdam airport, glorious mecca of travelers delights that it be. Our last night in Kenya was spent taking ridiculously hot showers in our "nice" hotel (the shower was lacking a shower curtain so the bathroom was soaked all night and the next morning, but damn was it grand), eating italian food that might have otherwise seemed remedial but reawakened our taste buds, drinking red wine, and watching bad tv. How i will miss the second season of the bachelor. Fortunately for me, i can find out what happens.
The next day we were charged with finishing this dopey video we were ordered to make by our research advisors. Aside from being time consuming and a royal pain in the ass, it was pretty neat to see the editing software used by the film company we found through some connections at the national newspaper. We also got to see raw footage of the weddings of many of Nairobi's finest, a couple of work banquets full of dozing and giggling employees, and sadly, a funeral for a woman with seven names.
The day ended up in one of the street markets. I really wanted a spear, since owning tribal weapons is fun and exciting, however the guy would not budge on the price and i knew damn well they could be purchased for substantially less in one of the other markets. So i'll have to get one of those next time.
After substantial negotiation involving about 6 phone calls between paul and lantei to some guy they knew that had a cab (actually maybe he has a car and likes to tell people its a cab- its hard to tell these things) we had also hired a ride to the airport. We almost got into four accidents, though only half would have been caused by our driver. Making it to the airport aubree wrestled with security a bit about sending her film through the uberXray machines they have barricading every entrance. For a country that has such limited infrastructure, they certainly have airport security figured out-we got xrayed and checked about three or four times, including right before boarding the plane.
Now we sit, doing internet activities since its ass early in the morning and we have just enough time to want to leave the airport but not enough time to actually leave the airport. Fortuntaely the duty free shops are open so if we require any chocolate or multipackls of miniature whiskey bottles, we know that we have options. And so these things go.

Masai Mara, or, We Saw Lions Doin' It

So friday ended up not really being our last night in Isinya. In typical fashion everything took about 6 hours longer than it would otherwise for no particular reason and by the time we were ready to leave for Nairobi it was way late and we decided that it would be better to drag ourselves out of bed at 5 in the am instaed. Unfortunately for the world of goats yet another one died in our honor for a grand total body count of 4. And so these things go. It was served to us cold.
Saturday morning we got dropped off at the safari company, Primetime Safaris. After the delays that we've come to expect (at least they had cartoons on in the office), we were introduced to our driver, Joe Faka (we weere informed americans get a big kick out of his last name- har), our cook, Chris, and the other person on our safari, Ravandi, a medical student from the colonial empire who had been working in western kenya doing HIV work. We were piled into our van, a slightly rattier version of the van we had been renting for work and off we went to Masai Mara Game Park. Yeehaw.
almost immediately i became convinced that joe had been a matatu driver in a former life based on ballsy and borderline insane driver maneuvers. he was gruff, of some indeterminate older age, chain smoking ciagarettes and not afraid to put his hand down on the meek horn to move cattle and other cars out of his way. he wore a green khaki safari outfit, tan loafers, and a white kangol cap that turned into a shade of dirt by the end of the trip due to all the dust blowing around in the van. joe was very knowledageable about the wildlife in the park and would proudly show us the animals in an old collier animal book. he wanted to show us as many animals as possible and informed us over a beerthat his job was to make people's dreams come true. this was in response to me asking if he liked his job or not-he said that is we were happy than he was happy, and that people have to work for their meat. i take that as a no, but its better than the other options.
The park itself is incredibly beautiful, with the sunrise and sunsets hitting at all the right angles. The first evening we arrived we saw the standard variety of gazelles, some wildebeast and zebras, adn then came the traffic jam. wondering how the hell there could be a traffic jam in the middle of a national park as we headed over, we soon discovered that the cause was lions. we saw them lying in the grass cleaning themselves and rolling about. twas quite exciting. eventually we headed to our accommodations and out of the park for the evening. some people have lots of money and stay in fancy game lodges where they serve you things and fan you and fluff your pillows. these people are not us. we stayed in a small camp site with permanent tents and some rowdy folks from northern ireland adn a family from the netherlands who didnt like germans. the food was plentiful and tahts all i'll say about that.
up early in the morning -aubree took off for a hot air balloon ride over the park, while ravandi and i headed out in the van. aubree had fun, and her ride ended up with a champagne and quishe brunch which sounded loveley, but she missed the highlight of the trip-lions eating a freshly killed buffalo, and far more rare apparently, lions gettin busy in the middle of the road. aw yea, cue the poorly synthesized 80s porn music.
all in all we saw lots of animals, tooks lots of pictures, which at my mother's request i will actually edit and remove the bad/unfocused/finger in the shot ones before posting them this time, and had a delightful adventure. unfortunately we did not get to see any leopards (they are very shy) or rhinos. next time.
coming back we have checked ourselves into a "nice" hotel, meaning toilet with running water int he room and also hot water. score. tomorrow night, tuesday. we hop a plane for amsterdam, followed by a plane ride for the homeland.