5 days at anchor in Hong Kong were a much needed respite for me and the gang. Due to the clause in the Agreement, “(a) In port the hours of work shall be 40 hours per week, eight hours per day between 8:00 A.M. and 5:00 P.M., Monday through Friday. (b) 3:00 P.M. Knock Off,” we only worked 6 hours a day, leaving plenty of time to go ashore.
“The Agreement,” that governing contract between the sailors and the company that gets discussed and argued every time the needle-guns shut up long enough for the human voice to be detected by the human ear, is universally described by Chief Mates as the “most creative piece of literature in the English Language.” I think of it as a list of catch-alls only sailors could dream up.
Speaking of marvels- it is almost impossible to describe a city like Hong Kong that has so many superlatives attributed to it; to single one out and draw attention to it only denigrates the whole place through its failure to give attention to all the others. It is the densest, the largest, the most populous, etc… so much so that I was content to wander around, completely lost.
The Temple Night Market is possibly the most famous street in Hong Kong- more Kung fu scenes have taken place there than anywhere else. I wandered past the endless stalls of cheap electronics, watches, tchotchke, down narrow, dank alleyways barely wide enough to allow two people to pass, past dark doorways where women plied their trade with calls of “Mah-sah! Mah-sah for you! I have strong hand!”
Dead pigs on carts, chickens hanging in the windows, luck cats, woks on propane burners balanced at the edge of curbs… like Chinatown in New York. Or Chinatown in San Francisco. Or in Singapore. The Hong Kongese might distinguish themselves from the mainlanders a few miles away, but they are Chinese in every way that this foreign devil can tell. Chinatown, as only a place in China, but technically not-China, could be.
For $1.75 US I took a subway from narrow lanes beneath a riot of criss-crossing prayer flags and the steady rain of window-unit a/c condensation in the older part of town to the downtown Hong Kong of laser-lit, projected imaged glass skyscrapers, high-fashion flagship stores of every concievable brand under the sun, neon-lit Ferris wheels, double-helix stairways made of solid glass… jaw dropping and bigger than Texas in every way… even in the volume of its self-aggrandizement.
Eat. Shop. Shop. Eat. If you want bargains, Hong Kong is the place. Stomach the grisly aroma’s in the old city and get lost in a maze of electronics stalls that are endless. Wander for hours and never see the sky, never see the same stall twice. You’ll mostly see the same merchandise at the same price, and convince yourself that you’re seeing the same people over and over again, but you’re not.
Or walk, like I did, and try to get lost. Due to Google Map’s ability to show you exactly where you were, when, I can go back and see that the first day I wandered I only walked 5.5 miles in the 4 hours I was ashore. My last 4 hour stint was 7.7 miles. I changed from my newer flip-flops to my older, and more worn pair to give my feet a break.
I bought $300 US worth of HK dollars ($2,500!) and 5 days later I still had over $500 of it left over… I think I was so overwhelmed that the glut sickened me to buying. I ate. I bought some necessities. I bought nothing for “the fun” of buying it.
At the end of the day, though, Hong Kong is a fractal. It is amazing on each level, and when you zoom in, you find there is a repeat of the overarching pattern of the city in the neighborhood; and the same pattern of the neighborhood as in the block; the same pattern in the shopping center; in the store; in the department; on the shelves; in the merchandise; in the circuit board of the merchandise….
I found the hive-like energy of Hong Kong endless. I found its proportions and glitz stunningly alien and bizarre. But, ultimately, I found the city of superlatives… boring.
We heaved anchor on the morning of the 6th day and I was finally rested from the 21 hour day in Singapore the week before. I serviced my needle guns, changed out the cups on my grinders, and set about to putting 2-part epoxy lipstick on this big old rusty pig.
Underway, making way… bitches. And they pay me to do it.
“The Agreement,” that governing contract between the sailors and the company that gets discussed and argued every time the needle-guns shut up long enough for the human voice to be detected by the human ear, is universally described by Chief Mates as the “most creative piece of literature in the English Language.” I think of it as a list of catch-alls only sailors could dream up.
Speaking of marvels- it is almost impossible to describe a city like Hong Kong that has so many superlatives attributed to it; to single one out and draw attention to it only denigrates the whole place through its failure to give attention to all the others. It is the densest, the largest, the most populous, etc… so much so that I was content to wander around, completely lost.
The Temple Night Market is possibly the most famous street in Hong Kong- more Kung fu scenes have taken place there than anywhere else. I wandered past the endless stalls of cheap electronics, watches, tchotchke, down narrow, dank alleyways barely wide enough to allow two people to pass, past dark doorways where women plied their trade with calls of “Mah-sah! Mah-sah for you! I have strong hand!”
Dead pigs on carts, chickens hanging in the windows, luck cats, woks on propane burners balanced at the edge of curbs… like Chinatown in New York. Or Chinatown in San Francisco. Or in Singapore. The Hong Kongese might distinguish themselves from the mainlanders a few miles away, but they are Chinese in every way that this foreign devil can tell. Chinatown, as only a place in China, but technically not-China, could be.
For $1.75 US I took a subway from narrow lanes beneath a riot of criss-crossing prayer flags and the steady rain of window-unit a/c condensation in the older part of town to the downtown Hong Kong of laser-lit, projected imaged glass skyscrapers, high-fashion flagship stores of every concievable brand under the sun, neon-lit Ferris wheels, double-helix stairways made of solid glass… jaw dropping and bigger than Texas in every way… even in the volume of its self-aggrandizement.
Eat. Shop. Shop. Eat. If you want bargains, Hong Kong is the place. Stomach the grisly aroma’s in the old city and get lost in a maze of electronics stalls that are endless. Wander for hours and never see the sky, never see the same stall twice. You’ll mostly see the same merchandise at the same price, and convince yourself that you’re seeing the same people over and over again, but you’re not.
Or walk, like I did, and try to get lost. Due to Google Map’s ability to show you exactly where you were, when, I can go back and see that the first day I wandered I only walked 5.5 miles in the 4 hours I was ashore. My last 4 hour stint was 7.7 miles. I changed from my newer flip-flops to my older, and more worn pair to give my feet a break.
I bought $300 US worth of HK dollars ($2,500!) and 5 days later I still had over $500 of it left over… I think I was so overwhelmed that the glut sickened me to buying. I ate. I bought some necessities. I bought nothing for “the fun” of buying it.
At the end of the day, though, Hong Kong is a fractal. It is amazing on each level, and when you zoom in, you find there is a repeat of the overarching pattern of the city in the neighborhood; and the same pattern of the neighborhood as in the block; the same pattern in the shopping center; in the store; in the department; on the shelves; in the merchandise; in the circuit board of the merchandise….
I found the hive-like energy of Hong Kong endless. I found its proportions and glitz stunningly alien and bizarre. But, ultimately, I found the city of superlatives… boring.
We heaved anchor on the morning of the 6th day and I was finally rested from the 21 hour day in Singapore the week before. I serviced my needle guns, changed out the cups on my grinders, and set about to putting 2-part epoxy lipstick on this big old rusty pig.
Underway, making way… bitches. And they pay me to do it.
VERY GOOD! I am in agreement that in all ... Hong Kong is boring. Forrest's words make it sound so poetic! Kevin and I did the same ... wandered to see what we could find. Mainland China (as it was, at least at the turn of the century1999/2000) was much more interesting and less like the bastardized city of HK. It isn't sure if it wants to be Chinese or American. �� Kris
ReplyDeleteVERY GOOD! I am in agreement that in all ... Hong Kong is boring. Forrest's words make it sound so poetic! Kevin and I did the same ... wandered to see what we could find. Mainland China (as it was, at least at the turn of the century1999/2000) was much more interesting and less like the bastardized city of HK. It isn't sure if it wants to be Chinese or American. �� Kris
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