The Daily Hell Vol. III - Bumsville

HONG KONNOR- On Atmospheric Moisture and Stupidity

September 4, 2007

On Atmospheric Moisture and Stupidity   or

Humidity and Dumbness

While taxis are far and away the preferred method of transportation on this island city of steep hills and mountainous staircases, I find that the more frequently chosen method by myself is walking.

In the morning it's not that bad. The city is still relatively cool from the night (say mid to high 70's with a lower humidity) and the downhill jaunt takes just about 15 minutes.

However at the end of the day, especially on occasions when I haven't been traipsing about, off hiking on some island all day, I will also walk back up the hill and home.

Maybe I want to save those $20, equivalent to about $3 US, maybe I like that invigorating cold shower the walk necessitates. At the end of the day though, I suspect I simply reason that it won't be that bad, it's not that far, and I can do it, so I should. And I do. And it is. And it is.

Central Hong Kong is set up with many large buildings connected so that you can actually walk across much of the neighborhood without leaving the comfort of the air conditioned walkways overlooking the congested bustling streets below However, without Renee as my guide, I can't make it through half of the correct length of the labyrinthine network before being spit out onto the crowded street several blocks from my intended destination, thus extending my walk through the soup. Onto the sidewalk I go, with aching lungs, walk shoulder to shoulder with the hawkers and fishwives who don't seem to mind the heat at all.

I sweat like a westerner. Despite the tropical heat waves of New York and Massachusetts which, over 25 years, I have learned to tolerate, never have I dealt with such a constant bombardment of condensed heat and humidity. The weather rarely changes in Hong Kong. It is almost always 86 degrees Fahrenheit, with scattered thunderstorms, and %10,000 humidity. I swear, one might contract pneumonia just by staying outside and breathing the moisture soaked air for a long enough period.

Renee's apartment is in the "Mid Levels" of Hong Kong. This is essentially what it sounds like. It is a neighborhood of snaky roads halfway up a mountain, Victoria Peak.

Today I went to a bookstore and planned the next leg of my trip in a Starbucks in the IFC Mall in Central. My body, my clothes, all were dry when I left. Within five minutes, the pattern of tiny dark pinpricks began to appear through my shirt and my arms began to glisten. Five more minutes and I came through the Botanical Gardens, halfway to the apartment, and the pattern was now a series of tiny light pinpricks of dryness on an otherwise soaked tee-shirt. The beaded sweat dripping from my arms and down off my hands.

The garden's Dandelion-like fountain tries to provoke me into the cool water and the garden workers, toiling to maintain the grounds seem to taunt me with their seemingly over-the-top dress, with their heavy work trousers and boots, longsleeve workshirts, cloth face masks, and wide-brimmed hats. I would pass out if I were to do heavy manual labor in conditions like that. They look like a budget HazMat cleanup crew.

Fortunately for me, the elevators in Renee's building have mirrored walls so I am able to see the sodden and bedraggled mess I have become in the short walk from the mall to the apartment. Shorts soaked through boxers, backpack soaked through shirt, and what hair hasn't become a Mike Brady in Hawaii curly mess of an afro, is plastered to my dripping forehead.

Every time. Because it's only a 15 minute walk. And it probably won't be that bad.

Hong Konnor - Stanley Peninsula

August 29, 2007

I'm in the Stanley Market, a trolling ground for stolen authentic, or illegally made knock off merchandise, as well as all manner of pottery, Buddha heads, kitanas, postcards, and Bruce Lee shirts as well as all nature of Chairman Mao tchotchkes and merchandise. It's a veritable Chinatown of China. As is much of China.

I took the bus in early, before the shops were really open and it semeed to be mostly the shopkeepers dicking around playing dice, or dominos, or some combination of the two. I strolled tdown to a small shrine on the pier next to the market and looked out onto the water. I was joined by a couple taking a picture as well as a child and his parents.

There was an incense burner there on the platform built in the likeness of a traditional Chinese Pagoda building. I didn't have any matchbox cars or GI Joes, but once the others departed the scene, I decided to have a go of making it look like I was a Godzilla-like monster attacking a city. As I examined my first attempt, teeth bared and arms raised, in my digital cameras view screen, the child came back and in perfect accented English, told me he could help me take my picture. He had not seen me attempting to destroy in comical fashion that which was intended to honor anscesters and worship holy figures, so I just played dumb, let him take a nice picture of me in front of the water and then finished the job once he left.

The shops still not open I went to the beach about 1KM down the road. It downpoured on my way there and wasstill drizzling as I got into the water, raindrops exploding on the surface all around me. I put my head under and could hear the rain punching the surface. It sounded like a fire crackling and popping, Like dry leaves burning. It started to come down harder and the blaze underwater surged to a roar and the surface came to a boil jumping and peeling away. Keeping my ees close to the surface it looked like the drops were trying to escape the sea. The falling dorps an invisible sheet, the spherical heads of millions jumping and falling in the last ditch effort of life to remain free before losing itsef and becoming just one more dilluted part of a much greater whole.

I looked at the St. Stephen's miliatry cemetery across from the beach. It had been in operation since the mid 1800s but the biggest part was dedicated to those who fell in the defense of Hong Kong during WWII. The attack began December 9, 1941 and surrender was given on Christmas day. There were many that died during the four year Japanese occupation as well. But there were rows of stones, mostly belonging to the same division- The Royal Scots. It was a British detail. All killed in the same week of fighting. It was powerful to see.

Stanley market itself was a bit of a bust. I didn't bring much money and that was fine because I'm sure I will be back to spend more later. I had lunch and a beer or two and took the bus back to the City.

Anyway, I nearly left, but it was still a bit early so I walked over to the Stanley Prison Museum. A historic journey through the years of the prison system in Hong Kong. Pretty interesting stuff. Lots about corporal punishment and the Japanese occupation as well. Refugee stuff. There was also a model cell and gallows with an electronic recording of what an execution would be like. A voice described in Chinese about the prisoner getting his final meal, testing the  strength of the rope with sandbags, leading the prisoner from his cell- all with sound effects to go along with it. ( I read along in English)

There was a group of young campers on a tour there being lead around by a guide. One of them escaped and came over to where I was looking at the gallows and listened to the recording describe a man's inevitable death. He wore the same expression as most young Hong Kong children who stop and stare odd looking westerners; one of mixed apprehension and some slight confusion. Two looks that seem to cancel each other out somehow, leaving them staring blankly. Trying to be friendly I smiled at the boy and nodded, gave him a slight wave as the sounds of floorboards creaking, a trap door opening, a taut rope swaying gently in a large room played in the air around us on that staged gallows. I only realized later he was probably too young to realize I didn't understand the what was being said and it must have been kind of creepy for me to be friendly and jovial towards him as we stood there listening to a reenactment of a prisoner's demise. But I mean, the guy probably deserved it.

I hit the gift shop and got a package of postcards before I hit the busline again. Something about a prison museum that is unusual and deserves boasting of having attended said place. If they had had a teeshirt for sale, I probably would have bought it. I would wear it proudly back in the states and when asked I would say, "No I didn't have to spend the night in jail, but I did psychologically damage a small child."

Hong Konnor - My Journey Begins

I recently decided that it would be better for me personally to be poor and unemployed in Hong Kong than to be poor and unhappily employed in New York. Very fond though I was of the company I worked for and the people I worked with I felt ready to move on to different things. As for life in New York in general of late, I felt there was none. I lived in a part of Brooklyn comparable to isle of Elba, where Napoleon spent his final days. Not because my neighbors spoke French. They didn't. More the exile part. I rarely saw my rommmate, never saw my friends, and I hadn't written anything worth the ink it was printed with in nearly a year. I needed a change. Perhaps moving 8,000 miles across the earth is a bit drastic for such a change, but I already had the ticket.

My girlfriend, Renee, moved here in May for work and my initial plan for a 2 week visit, easily converted into a three month extended stay, complete with plans to travel around the Eastern world. When I looked at my reasons for coming back and reasons for not coming back, it was fairly easy. And now, I'm here... (fade to white)

It was a long flight. Sixteen hours and the sun never set. We flew over the North Pole, which I didn't think you could do. There were many Chinese people on the flight. Way more than the British Airways flight that left from the gate next to ours.jj

Economy class is tight. Less room than a Greyhound bus really. But you can drink, though I only had a glass or two of wine to help me sleep. I had sprained my wrist somehow a day or two before and used the complimentary socks to wrap the injured limb. Boy Scout mentality to make due with what you have.

Renee was waiting for me at the gate, maybe 4 exits away from the plane area, as close as non-passengers are allowed to get. It is a strange and intricate process to re-establish a relationship that has essentially been put on hold, dramatically changed, for the last thre months. A long separation of brief phone calls, and occassional long phone calls, it's more a process of retraining your own mind and actions/reactions to a person. It's something that takes some time, and I'm sure it will take a little while to completely re-establish those parameters.

After some re-establishing, we went to Wan Chai Shek (I think), the big nightlife area, to meet some of Renee's friends, holding going away drinks for one of their coworkers. This girl was hammered when I got there, but everyone was very nice. We met them on the 30th floor of some building, in a resstaurant. The Hong Kong skyline is incredible and this was my first glimpse, seen from the middle of it. You see it from everywhere, whether you are in the midst of it or somewhere a few miles away. I've been assured that while it is stunning, seeing it everyday, it loses it's impact.

The next day was Saturday. I slept until 3 PM, got up showered and then napped until 5. I guess that's jetlag. We got up again and walked to the zoo next to her apartment. Free of charge and it was awesome. Animals and such. We walked around the city a bit, saw the markets, stores, and restaurants. Then it was time for the junk boat trip. They pick you up at a pier and take you out to the river beween Hong Kong Island and Kowloon at about 7:45 PM. Then something magical happens.

Putting itself on display for all the world to see, every night- every single night of the year- the buildings of the Hong Kong skyline put on a synchronized light show. Music blasting from the ship's speakers, the announcer introduces each building like a band leader introducing the members. Each building stepping forward, lighting up and flashing right on cue, doing a solo, then falling back in line for the next building to have it's shining moment.

The boat trip is a particularly good idea because the show is comprised of buildings on both sides of the river, a veritible battle of lights. On the water, there is no "You've got the land, but we've got the view" type problems. After the introductions, they just go at it like a carnival lighting up neon and irridescent bulbs 100 stories in the air. Flaring and dilating pupils enough to give any unexpecting bystander seizures.

Flashing lights are par for the course, but each side of the river has it's trump cards. Hong Kong Island has a few buildings that busts out lazer beams shooting here and there. Only the sound effects need to be added by the viewer for a real War of the Worlds/Death Star type fantasy experience. The Kowloon side goes the more traditional route, launching fireworks from boats in the harbor. It is a serious battle and I think everyone wines. Every single night.

This was followed by a fabulous dinner on the 28th floor of a riverview restaurant, overlooking the city. We had pigeon, served with the head still on. Take that New York's flying rats. After dinner we walked around a few shady bootleg markets and went home.

**I am only halfway through what I have written and I feel this is already longer than most attention spans can deal with. Perhaps I'm wrong but I'm going to make this volume 1 so as not to overwhelm people. Coming soon... Volume 2...