East of Greenwich Mean Time
If you're one in a million, there are a thousand people just like you in China.
It's been over 3 weeks between Hong Kong, Singapore and Seoul, and I have to say - Asia has made me very welcome. After spending almost half my life in the US, my expectation of having to adjust to "culture shock" was just that - an expectation, not realized. How can it be a "shock" when the culture is what I was raised in, grew up in? What else could it be but a homecoming?
In Hong Kong, I worked hard and explored hard - this little city-state has more wonders than you can possibly imagine. From the posh estates in the Mid-levels, Happy Valley, the Peak, Repulse Bay and University Heights, to the grimy squalid back alley shophouses in Yau Ma Tei, North Point, Sai Ying Pun - the island pulses with diversity, emotion, passion, and LIFE.
People used to characterize life in Hong Kong as constant rat race, with a pack of ruthless, cold, and heartless moneybots. I saw something quite different - this is a place with so much history, Chinese tradition coupled with colonial gentility, Eastern piety with Western individualism, Confucian societal thinking colored by a very modern and American self-awareness and political savvy. As someone raised with Oriental values in a westernized society, all aspects of my life resonate strongly with everything I have seen in Hong Kong so far.
On occasion the reaction is one of disbelief - how can the women in Hong Kong possibly be so thin, and pale, living in this humid and warm city of incredible cuisine? Other times, it's one of awe, at how so much modernity can be built on so little space, in such a short span of time. Some times it's a sense of helplessness, of being swept by the human tide in an unknown direction, whether it's on a Saturday afternoon by a gleaming shopping mall, or on Monday morning along the main Financial Center thoroughfare.
I had felt an odd sense of nausea, when I see back alley shops in Kowloon selling dried insects in dirty jars as medicine. I felt admiration, for octogenarians still sitting at the same grimy corner, for over 60 years selling the same service that no one else seems to want to buy anymore. I felt incredible satisfaction when I ate some of the best ever won ton in my life. I felt adventurous when I got lost in the multitudes of dim sum restaurants in Causeway Bay - how do these people pick the "Best of the Best in Chinese Cuisine"? There is of course, the delicious comfort, of getting a true Chinese Qi-gong massage, finally. Ahhhhh sweet relief.
Hong Kong is a place of incredible wonder. Every day shows me something new - every additional street block I explore, shows me another facet of this Diamond in the Orient. I can't wait to see more.
Of course every now and then I am reminded that I actually have to work here - my colleagues have been wonderful, with the fair share of tapdancing and politicking, of course. Such is the big "C" word - corporate. It's nothing more than mind games, really.
My work took me to Singapore - won't spend too much time elaborating on it except to say my Grandfather turned 98, and he continues to be my inspiration and example, especially since he's still healthy, alert, sharp as a tack and has a few choice words in Teochew for Dubya Bush and his campaign on terror. Of course I had my fix of Singaporean food with good friends and family. What other way is there to enjoy Singaporean food. And added more people to my "kawan" network!
Subsequently work took me to Seoul, of the Han Country - Korea. Anyong ha seyoh - I have not heard "How Are You" spoken quite so lyrically before. Seoul is immense, the city sprawls on both sides of the Hangang River, unfortunately covered in smog so that the shiny towers and ornate temple roofs are hidden behind a haze of pollution. But people are organized, reserved, a little more tentative than what I expected - no outpouring of heartfelt emotions here, not unless you get some ShoJyu, that is.
Ah, shojyu. By day, the industrious Koreans work hard and keep the economic wonder that has provided us with innumerable mobile phones and little cars in good shape. By night, the true Seoul city life comes out of hiding.
Our colleagues in the Seoul office are fantastic hosts. Our meals were in true Korean hangouts, rarely visited by foreigners. As such there is the usual confusion when visitors like me realize that patent leather pumps with buckles are not conducive to sitting down on the floor to eat. But the meal inevitably becomes a smorgasboard of little dishes of appetizers, accompaniments, after-meals, and they all carry the unmistakable aroma of chili paste and garlic, present in almost all Korean dishes. Trying to remember what goes with which is always a fun game, and when you're confused, just raise your hand and call out "On-yee" and a helpful waitress will come by and forcibly add something from one little dish into your rice bowl while chattering away in lyrical Korean.
Lyrical Korean, of course, becomes loud and boisterous Korean when one imbibes shojyu. It can even be broken and butchered Korean pronunciation when shojyu is slugged down by foreign visitors como yo. To introduce shojyu, we have to start at a restaurant called 'Get Bull'.
'Get Bull' is a phonetic twist of a local joint's name that is meant to refer to a part of Seoul where there are many shoals and marshes... anyway it is a bit of a dive, but quite enjoyable, complete with terse waitresses and all. We sat in Get Bull and was served one of the most famous delicacies in Korea - fresh, REALLY FRESH OCTUPUS. So fresh it is ladled dripping from the water tank, still wriggling, expediently chopped up into little pieces, served with oil and sesame seeds, to us unsuspecting foreigners who have never seen sashimi actually MOVE before.
Yes, my dear friends. The little pieces of chopped up octupus still retain the neurological and muscular reaction, thanks to the speed of the guy in the back kitchen. They are still twitching and moving, suction cups from the tentacles grab on to the plate, chopsticks, soy sauce dish, refusing to let go. And if you finally get the piece into your mouth, and you weren't lucky enough to chew fast and swallow fast, you can feel the suction cups stuck on your tongue, down your throat. All incredibly fresh, tastes good, but a surreal experience. Our local colleagues had great fun showing us the many different ways you can actually pick up the piece with one suction cup alone. Takes some dexterity with the chopstick, but yes, dear friends, it can be done.
Is it any wonder, then, we went a little heavy on the shojyu? Traditionally home-made with fermented rice, or potatoes, or any other vegetable/fruit you would want to preserve, it is now sold in mass produced bottles and starts off tasting like Gin. The ones we had were about 40-proof, served cold in shot glasses and thrown back with a flourish. Hospitality dictates that no glass on the table should be left empty, and no one drinks alone, so in no time we'd polished off a beer-bottle's worth of shojyu each. At that point, what had begun tasting like gin started to taste like rubbing alcohol. But heck who cares at that point.
Live octupus, bottled moonshine, how else to end the evening but karaoke in another local joint? Yes, those who know me realize how drunk I must have been to actually SING into a MICROPHONE to the tune of CHICAGO's greatest hits, in front of PEOPLE. And I still knew all the words!
Not sure what time, but we finally toppled out of there into a beautiful moonlit clear night, stumbling around a city park and remarking, drunk yet incredibly aware, of what great lives we all have that we can be with good friends, having a good time, in a part of the world that still appreciates the basic concept of joie de vivre. As one of my colleagues would say, it was a "philosophical moment".
So hangover not withstanding, I'm now back in Hong Kong and resurrecting the college-trick of 2 pints of water and 2 aspirins (after a night of drinking, before going to bed... trust me it works), feeling a little disoriented that three and a half weeks could have possibly gone by so quickly. I have so much work to do, hours will be long, I'm sure. This will be a very challenging time, many things to be accomplished with limited resources but with incredibly committed colleagues and team-mates.
I hope the incredible vitality I have seen and felt and lived with so far will continue to be an inspiration and buoy me along, so I can fully grasp this opportunity and drink my life in Asia to the dregs.
What a way to start a new adventure.
Cheers
It's been over 3 weeks between Hong Kong, Singapore and Seoul, and I have to say - Asia has made me very welcome. After spending almost half my life in the US, my expectation of having to adjust to "culture shock" was just that - an expectation, not realized. How can it be a "shock" when the culture is what I was raised in, grew up in? What else could it be but a homecoming?
In Hong Kong, I worked hard and explored hard - this little city-state has more wonders than you can possibly imagine. From the posh estates in the Mid-levels, Happy Valley, the Peak, Repulse Bay and University Heights, to the grimy squalid back alley shophouses in Yau Ma Tei, North Point, Sai Ying Pun - the island pulses with diversity, emotion, passion, and LIFE.
People used to characterize life in Hong Kong as constant rat race, with a pack of ruthless, cold, and heartless moneybots. I saw something quite different - this is a place with so much history, Chinese tradition coupled with colonial gentility, Eastern piety with Western individualism, Confucian societal thinking colored by a very modern and American self-awareness and political savvy. As someone raised with Oriental values in a westernized society, all aspects of my life resonate strongly with everything I have seen in Hong Kong so far.
On occasion the reaction is one of disbelief - how can the women in Hong Kong possibly be so thin, and pale, living in this humid and warm city of incredible cuisine? Other times, it's one of awe, at how so much modernity can be built on so little space, in such a short span of time. Some times it's a sense of helplessness, of being swept by the human tide in an unknown direction, whether it's on a Saturday afternoon by a gleaming shopping mall, or on Monday morning along the main Financial Center thoroughfare.
I had felt an odd sense of nausea, when I see back alley shops in Kowloon selling dried insects in dirty jars as medicine. I felt admiration, for octogenarians still sitting at the same grimy corner, for over 60 years selling the same service that no one else seems to want to buy anymore. I felt incredible satisfaction when I ate some of the best ever won ton in my life. I felt adventurous when I got lost in the multitudes of dim sum restaurants in Causeway Bay - how do these people pick the "Best of the Best in Chinese Cuisine"? There is of course, the delicious comfort, of getting a true Chinese Qi-gong massage, finally. Ahhhhh sweet relief.
Hong Kong is a place of incredible wonder. Every day shows me something new - every additional street block I explore, shows me another facet of this Diamond in the Orient. I can't wait to see more.
Of course every now and then I am reminded that I actually have to work here - my colleagues have been wonderful, with the fair share of tapdancing and politicking, of course. Such is the big "C" word - corporate. It's nothing more than mind games, really.
My work took me to Singapore - won't spend too much time elaborating on it except to say my Grandfather turned 98, and he continues to be my inspiration and example, especially since he's still healthy, alert, sharp as a tack and has a few choice words in Teochew for Dubya Bush and his campaign on terror. Of course I had my fix of Singaporean food with good friends and family. What other way is there to enjoy Singaporean food. And added more people to my "kawan" network!
Subsequently work took me to Seoul, of the Han Country - Korea. Anyong ha seyoh - I have not heard "How Are You" spoken quite so lyrically before. Seoul is immense, the city sprawls on both sides of the Hangang River, unfortunately covered in smog so that the shiny towers and ornate temple roofs are hidden behind a haze of pollution. But people are organized, reserved, a little more tentative than what I expected - no outpouring of heartfelt emotions here, not unless you get some ShoJyu, that is.
Ah, shojyu. By day, the industrious Koreans work hard and keep the economic wonder that has provided us with innumerable mobile phones and little cars in good shape. By night, the true Seoul city life comes out of hiding.
Our colleagues in the Seoul office are fantastic hosts. Our meals were in true Korean hangouts, rarely visited by foreigners. As such there is the usual confusion when visitors like me realize that patent leather pumps with buckles are not conducive to sitting down on the floor to eat. But the meal inevitably becomes a smorgasboard of little dishes of appetizers, accompaniments, after-meals, and they all carry the unmistakable aroma of chili paste and garlic, present in almost all Korean dishes. Trying to remember what goes with which is always a fun game, and when you're confused, just raise your hand and call out "On-yee" and a helpful waitress will come by and forcibly add something from one little dish into your rice bowl while chattering away in lyrical Korean.
Lyrical Korean, of course, becomes loud and boisterous Korean when one imbibes shojyu. It can even be broken and butchered Korean pronunciation when shojyu is slugged down by foreign visitors como yo. To introduce shojyu, we have to start at a restaurant called 'Get Bull'.
'Get Bull' is a phonetic twist of a local joint's name that is meant to refer to a part of Seoul where there are many shoals and marshes... anyway it is a bit of a dive, but quite enjoyable, complete with terse waitresses and all. We sat in Get Bull and was served one of the most famous delicacies in Korea - fresh, REALLY FRESH OCTUPUS. So fresh it is ladled dripping from the water tank, still wriggling, expediently chopped up into little pieces, served with oil and sesame seeds, to us unsuspecting foreigners who have never seen sashimi actually MOVE before.
Yes, my dear friends. The little pieces of chopped up octupus still retain the neurological and muscular reaction, thanks to the speed of the guy in the back kitchen. They are still twitching and moving, suction cups from the tentacles grab on to the plate, chopsticks, soy sauce dish, refusing to let go. And if you finally get the piece into your mouth, and you weren't lucky enough to chew fast and swallow fast, you can feel the suction cups stuck on your tongue, down your throat. All incredibly fresh, tastes good, but a surreal experience. Our local colleagues had great fun showing us the many different ways you can actually pick up the piece with one suction cup alone. Takes some dexterity with the chopstick, but yes, dear friends, it can be done.
Is it any wonder, then, we went a little heavy on the shojyu? Traditionally home-made with fermented rice, or potatoes, or any other vegetable/fruit you would want to preserve, it is now sold in mass produced bottles and starts off tasting like Gin. The ones we had were about 40-proof, served cold in shot glasses and thrown back with a flourish. Hospitality dictates that no glass on the table should be left empty, and no one drinks alone, so in no time we'd polished off a beer-bottle's worth of shojyu each. At that point, what had begun tasting like gin started to taste like rubbing alcohol. But heck who cares at that point.
Live octupus, bottled moonshine, how else to end the evening but karaoke in another local joint? Yes, those who know me realize how drunk I must have been to actually SING into a MICROPHONE to the tune of CHICAGO's greatest hits, in front of PEOPLE. And I still knew all the words!
Not sure what time, but we finally toppled out of there into a beautiful moonlit clear night, stumbling around a city park and remarking, drunk yet incredibly aware, of what great lives we all have that we can be with good friends, having a good time, in a part of the world that still appreciates the basic concept of joie de vivre. As one of my colleagues would say, it was a "philosophical moment".
So hangover not withstanding, I'm now back in Hong Kong and resurrecting the college-trick of 2 pints of water and 2 aspirins (after a night of drinking, before going to bed... trust me it works), feeling a little disoriented that three and a half weeks could have possibly gone by so quickly. I have so much work to do, hours will be long, I'm sure. This will be a very challenging time, many things to be accomplished with limited resources but with incredibly committed colleagues and team-mates.
I hope the incredible vitality I have seen and felt and lived with so far will continue to be an inspiration and buoy me along, so I can fully grasp this opportunity and drink my life in Asia to the dregs.
What a way to start a new adventure.
Cheers
posted by tygertyger at 11:43 AM
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