Monthly Archive for October, 2008

Love The Exercise. But.

Environmentally … what? You have to hand it to those engineers, they’re fond of a good joke.

This is the place where there used to be some water, some trees, a bit of paved harbourside promenade and some benches not too long ago.

At that time I was working in Central Plaza in Wanchai. I remember it took 20 minutes to walk there from Pier 6, right next to the Disneyesque monstrosity which calls itself the New Star Ferry Pier. And 20 pleasurable minutes they were too.
Yesterday I walked there again, or rather, to Hong Kong Art Center which is closer to the ferry pier than Central Plaza. This time the walk took exactly 43 minutes, what with the walking up and down pedestrian flyovers, climbing over fences and and walking the huge, HUGE detours because of this, the government’s maybe worst mistake so far: The Hong Kong Harbour Annihilation Project.

Walking “along” the “harbour” from Central to Wanchai we can really see at close range the true range of the government’s plan: To get rid of all pedestrians to further accommodate the 5% of HK’s population who own cars. Hong Kong: Town planning for plonkers.

Look - No Hands! My Wife Is Nine Years Old

So, the Indonesian muslim cleric Syech Puji (43) married a 12 year-old girl, and some people inevitably protested. (Today’s South China Morning Post, A11) What’s the big deal eh? That’s what muslims do. After all, the mohammed himself married a seven year-old, as the cleric rightly pointed out.

Not stopping with a superannuated 12 year-old, he hastened to add that he was also planning to marry a seven and a nine year-old. That’s more like it!

Some more churlish members of the human race would think that his present wife, a 26 year-old, would take a dim view of having three kids, I mean wives, to look after, but not so. She sensibly consented to the additional marriages, perhaps thinking that this would allow her a couple of days a week not straining under a bearded heap of sweaty flesh?
Sadly for her, the cleric, not wanting to upset the rules of the Koran, isn’t intending to consummate the new marriages until the girls ” start to menstruate”.
At worst, even the 12 year-old may then not be ready for another couple of years.
But how she’ll be gagging for it when the time comes, especially seeing she’s already been taken out of junior high school and all.

Before some politically correct killjoy starts brandishing the tired pedophile label, Mr Righteous Cleric is quoted as saying he likes young girls because “he can teach them and turn them into good women.”
That’s the way to do it! You want to turn a seven year-old into a good woman - what better than to marry her and keep checking her underwear for tell-tale bloodstains? While teaching her, naturally? Teaching her about how to enjoy being sodomised, that kind of thing?

I salute the muslims; they certainly know how to turn a potentially nasty thing into a great one. This is something we from which we can all learn.

Another Reason To Join Happy Jellyfish People’s Democratic Language Bureau

Last Friday was the closest I’ve ever come to feeling motherly pride; you know the kind of pride mothers feel when their child has poo’ed a particularly fine and torpedo shaped poo, or drawn like a veritable Rembrandt on my bedroom wall using poo.

Actually, maybe not motherly. More like an uncle’s pride, but pride nonetheless. Because last Friday was my student Elisabeth V’s first foray into the world of stand-up comedy … in Cantonese! Unlike many of the acts, for example the guy above whose idea of humour went something like: “Hong Kong girl are very materialistic. When I take them out they expect me to pay. But I don’t have so much money,” Elisabeth was actually funny and got the biggest laughs.

So, people, start taking Cantonese lessons from Happy Jellyfish Language Bureau today! In a few months it will be you up there on stage, letting your wit and wisdom rain down on an adoring public.
It used to be that when people had studied with me for a while, I took them to Shenzhen/Guangzhou etc as a reward.
Now the graduation reward will be your ticket out of the ghetto!

Defenestration (Suicide Tips For The Determined)

The 77th floor, and still there are more floors, ever more and more floors in that insane building IFC2. I have never been so high up while still being at sea level and not in a plane, and feel a little … let’s call it weird. But partly hidden in the grey soup that calls itself air across the “harbour” is a monster that appears to have set the goal for itself of beating IFC2 into a pulp, height-wise. In fact, what I think is height of mind-blowing, bone-crunching and tooth-outpulling proportions, is a midget compared to other buildings being planned or under construction around the world, notably Dubai.

How high is high enough, I wonder? To get to the 77th floor of IFC2, you have to change lifts, and heaven knows what you need to do to get to the 88th - change clothes, probably. And book six years in advance.

Me, I live in a place where I’d have to jump out the window again and again to have a hope of even hurting myself, let alone commit suicide. Yes I’d die of boredom before breaking as much as a finger, if I tried to kill myself by jumping from my gaff.

Now IFC2, on the other hand! You’d disintegrate into atoms before passing the 60th floor on the several minute plunge. Good view though, that has to be said.

Cantonese - The Glaswegian Of Asia

Another attempt at making Cantonese a world language. Go on - you know you want to be able to communicate with the people in the city in which you live! Or if you don’t live in Hong Kong: Go on! You know you want to speak Cantonese, as it’s definitely going to be the next world language. Mandarin just doesn’t cut it. Yeah, so you make three hour, make everyone fall asleep speeches in Mandarin, but can you make people laugh? I think not! Cantonese forever!!!!!

Stayin’ Alive

You know how some people like to jump out of airplanes armed only with a handkerchief, throw themselves off tall buildings tied to an elastic band or spend weeks wrapped in cellophane and stapled to the north wall of K2 just because it makes them feel alive? 

You’ll be glad to know there’s a cheaper, more convenient way - if you live in or visit Hong Kong. All you have to do is take First Ferry from Mui Wo to Hong Kong Island. 

Because of incessant reclamation, the waves in the harbour are now so big that every trip is a near-death experience. As the ferry comes hurtling into the narrow strip of brackish water between the Kowloon peninsula and Hong Kong, slamming down on the water like it wants to punish it, passengers fly around the cabin arse over tit, screaming with … joy, I suppose. The joy of having people puking all around them and being hit by flying cups of coffee and laptops. 

It’s certainly better than a lull. But why pay for breakfast only to lose it twenty minutes later, I wonder.


Dating Tips For Plonkers

Yesterday when checking who had checked out my profile on Straight-dar (the dating site for straight people - Gaydar without the sex) I came across the profile of this particular 49-year old from Tuen Mun. 

I found it a little hurtful that he had only checked me out but not contacted me, but I eventually got over it:

“Hi I am looking for a special lady who can attract me so as to give me a chance to fall in love with her. She will be the most important girl I ever met. I think my girl will be a simple one, no need to be real special, no need to be mature, the best is - she always acts like a 3 years old baby girl.”

Is this the secret, (or not-so-secret, as evidenced in hello kitty pouting-fest competitions around town) formula to winning a Chinese man’s heart? 

All right, on occasion I’m sure I’ve acted like a 3 year old. But not since I was five! Since then, “malevolent six year-old” is the best I’ve been able to come up with. And certainly not “always.” Scream, looking into my heart now I realise I’m still sulking because he didn’t contact me. What a plonker!

Running Out

This is the word of wisdom I accidentally looked at in my local Pacific Coffee (that in the Mui Wo ferry pier) today. I’m happy to say that after I got a wireless vodaphone usb internet thingy I haven’t had to frequent Pac Cof at all, with their paper cups when they should have used reusable porcelain, their picnic like ambiance when the prices are five star and their total disregard for the environment. Remember people: For every dollar you spend at these faux cosy places, another privately owned cafe in Central has to close.

But anyway: What does this “quotation” even mean? That only lost people can find love, or that … people who don’t know they’ve fallen in love, don’t know where they are going? Or that people who don’t know the way to somewhere  … no, I don’t understand. And who is this Helene Cixuos anyway? I thought quotations were all about Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare and Bill Gates. I think Pacific Coffee has really run out of things to say.

Some Quarters

It has been commented on in some quarters that some people now prefer to just post clips from YouTube on their blogs instead of writing. But how about if the clip is your own creation and you’ve poured hours and hours of work and $53 into it? What then, eh? Eh?

English At Large

In today’s South China Morning Post, for the perhaps ten billionth time since I’ve been in the lovely city of Hong Kong, there’s a … language debate! As usual the topic is “why is Hong Kong people’s English so crap.”

Writers of letters to the editor come up with various reasons and solutions, all good. Everyone can agree that it comes down to lack of practise. One even blames people’s “Cantonese pronunciation.” So how come more and more mainlanders, Cantonese speakers included, speak increasingly excellent English, seeing they mostly have less access to native English speakers and less access to English learning material than Hongkongers?

I think it’s because Hong Kong teachers largely approach the teaching of English like French teachers in Britain approach the teaching of French: “This is something you’ll have to muddle through because we say so but don’t think you’ll come out of it actually speaking the language. But let’s all suffer together shall we? Pass the exam; then you’re free to go.”

Of course the English textbooks in HK don’t help. Once in my grey youth I was actually a private English teacher to Hong Kong kids. The parents had obviously told the kids that being in the same room as a “native speaker” for a few hours a month was enough; they weren’t expected to do or say anything and as long as they sat there passively through the ordeal, and as long as the parents could tell their friends that they had hired a tutor, everything would be fine.

Oh, how young and naive I was. One seven year-old girl stupidly showed me her homework. There was a drawing of a letter complete with stamp, whose caption was “A little.” I insanely crossed out the caption, replacing with “A letter.”

Two days later I saw the girl again. She was in tears, because her teacher had angrily wiped out my caption with many red strokes of her pen, re-writing “A little.”

The girl failed her test and I was fired. The same week two 11 year-old twins were reading Tom Sawyer, as in “the Chinese version of.” I ruminated long and hard over the sentence “Quick and nighting, Indian Joe jumped out the window.” In the end I decided it meant “quick as lightning …” and told the boys that this was the correct interpretation. Result: Tears at dawn and being fired again. It said “quick and nighting” in the book, therefore that’s what it would remain.

I’m not sure, but it must have been shortly after this I took up teaching Cantonese to foreigners …

So basically, there’s no way HK people can learn good English when the primary level textbooks are written by jumped-up morons who think their face is dead in the water if they run what they have self-importantly written, by a person who can actually read and write English.

It’s not Hong kong people’s pronunciation there’s anything wrong with, nor their willingness to acquire a second language.The problem is all the little idiots sitting around the publishing houses thinking that because they know “a is for apple, b is for bastard” they can actually write a textbook. That, and HK people’s ingrained fear of challenging what they perceive as “authority.”
“In my school, this is “a little” because it’s always been “a little” and I will personally execute anybody who dares to contradict me!

Faced with being fired or execution, who wouldn’t go along with it?

But, you know, “when there is a fire, don’t use the lift.”