the_whole_thing
byron kho
in technicolor
An Attempt to Stand Out (3)
Laura, Ed, Bruce, Ryan, Steve, Byron, David and Matt go biking. South Gate Wall, Xi'an, China.
blog: xanga
blog: the_whole_thing
September 2003 - April 2004
May 15, 2004- May 21, 2004
May 22, 2004- May 24, 2004
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May 22, 2004: Hong Kong
Taking the subway to Central.
More subway.
Today is a day of opportunity - we have the entire day free, until the afternoon, to do whatever we want. First things first... sleep. It does take us a while to get ready for the day, but soon enough we gather to get into town. Unfortunately, we have to rehearse a little, and then go get some food - lunch or whatever, at some seafood restaurant. I ordered some hot and sour soup, but that was a waste of money. Afterwards, Alex, Anthony and I ready to go downtown to see the Bank of China Tower, but soon we get more people on our little trek. We head down to the subway, to take the Tsuen Wan line down to Central. It's an awesome subway. It's meticulously clean and filled with people. There are glass walls so nobody can fall on the tracks, and the cars are all clean. There are video ads all over the place. Very futuristic. The cars are even painted! I think ours was a Peanuts one... it was so awesome. Beautiful. The one thing I took note of was that their ads did kinda suck. I mean, they were OK, but didn't do it for me, visually. Obviously they were in Chinese too, so that may have been a factor.
Lippo Towers at Lippo Plaza.
Another view of Lippo Towers at Lippo Plaza.
Which way to go?
Dave and Matt at the fountain in Hong Kong Park.
Anyway, so we get down to where we need to go, the Admiralty station of the MTR (Mass Transport Rail). We walk through Lippo Plaza, which looks like koalas climbing on each other (Lippo is this rich Indonesian bank, a member of whom bribed Clinton famously in 1998). From there, we get to the Bank of China Tower, which is closed to the public today. We can't get up there. So damn... Anthony and Alex decide to head to Pacific Place, because they're hungry. All the rest of us decide to go up to Hong Kong Park, which is awesome and what not. We walk through this awesome conservatory, an aviary with thhis brilliant blue bird that I took a picture of, and this fountain. The fountain, which you could run underneath with the water falling all around you. It was great! It was more of a visual thing... hard to put into words, but I'm glad we went to the park. It was a little oasis of beauty in the center of this urban jungle. Hong Kong is so packed full of people. We head to Pacific Plaza now, which is full of high-octane stores that we can't afford. Blah. White and sparse. Classy, but we have to go. We take the MTR back using Admiralty station, and get off at the Tsim Sha Tsui stop on Nathan Road before heading to the hotel. Shower, change, get ready.
A view of the conservatory at Hong Kong Park.
Joel at the gardens by the tower in Hong Kong Park.
It does kind of suck, then, that we have to go and do our first performance of tour. After all, we haven't had time to finish seeing Hong Kong, and there is surely a lot more to see. But this is the way things are - we have a schedule, we stick to it, and since others are mostly paying, we keep our mouths shut. We're still pretty diplomatic. I am in fine form this night. Our bus pulls up around the corner from this place (where, we're not quite sure yet) but when we round the corner, we find ourselves looking at the US Embassy here in Hong Kong. It's Garden Street. Across the street is our performance venue, a colonial-style house that will host a Penn scholarship drive for some lucky Hong Kong student. The monies are raised from among a bunch of rich Penn alums working in Hong Kong. The place is beautiful - apparently, it's a ladies club now. It was blessed as a institute for ladies in 1916 by Helena May and her husband Sir Henry May, the then-governor of Hong Kong. Anyway, history aside, we have to practice. We do, and everything is perfect as it can possibly be after being so worn from travel. All the while, the staff are cleaning the place up and making everything just right. These people are going to be spoiled, as they get gift bags and raffle prizes from all these incredible places... a $12,800 Dior handbag, a $9,800 Tiffany brooch, a $3,680 Fendi handbag, digital flatscreen, Kate Spade handbag, $2,000 in MAC makeup, etc. Before you think, wow, remember it's Hong Kong dollars, which go for 8 HK to 1 US. But still, some expensive stuff there, and I really hope these guys give a lot of money.
Glee Club during our performance at the Penn Ball, Helena May Club.
We are possessed.
As people stroll in for pre-dinner drinks, I happen to be walking along and get a tap on the shoulder. Last thing I expect - did I do something wrong? - but no, it's apparently two of my friends, who live in Hong Kong, and are here! At this very function! Johnny is one, who is president of the Wharton China Business Forum undergraduate group here on campus. His girlfriend, who used to live across the hall from me, and is now matured into this really amazingly... yeah, well, Jasmine is here too. Their group apparently donated tons of money to this thing and they have to show up and do whatever. I make an appointment with them to hang out tonight - I mean, what else would I do? Sleep? Talked with some other alums, who seem kind of impressed. They work with Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley in Asia, and this other woman does some other financial work with Asian banks. I also talk with this alum who works partly with some science groups here in Hong Kong (I discuss possibilities of getting me a job here some time, he is accepting, but whatever, it's small talk, and I don't intend on working here anyway). I think Anthony wanted to work the connections when he first heard about it, but either he's having trouble with the Asian thing, or it's like he thought after he came in: he thinks Hong Kong is dirty and stuff. Can't blame him, it is dirty, but finance is finance, and here's the Asian capital. Well, the performance is sterling, I do my little diplomatic bit, and we run home after we perform. Those people love us (a little reminder of home). Everyone else goes to bed, but here's where my adventure comes in.
I called Johnny, and we arranged to meet at Lan Kwai Fong. After finding no one that wanted to go (I was a little pissed, even the partiers were pooped...I wasn't tired), I decided to go by myself. What the hell, I'm only here once, and apparently this is THE place to go. I take a taxi down and it costs me 10 bucks US, same as Philly prices for the distance, but I'm pissed because I feel everything should be cheaper. Anyway, we drive by all these cool places, which I later find out is called SoHo, the "South of Hollywood Road" sector. This, by the way, is on Hong Kong Island, down in CentralThere's lots of international restaurants and bars, and this HUGE club that I see tons of people at. But that doesn't compare with Lan Kwai Fong. When I get there, millions of people are clogging up the entire road. It's a maze of streets - ok, a very small one, there's maybe like 2 block width and length, but there's people everywhere. There are Western-style restaurants for during the day, but at night, all the bars are open. Everyone cool is here, just as if you would go to a chill club in NYC, and all the expats in the city are there. I'm supposed to meet them at this one bar if they do come, but I get bored of waiting and decide to wander around. There's lots of hot white girls, and I talk to a few, but the one I'm getting good with takes one last gulp. It's a bit too much, as it's more of a chug, and she's GONE. Damn. Her friends cart her off. So it's just me and my Heineken, with all these cool people hangin out around me. Some of these people are freeloaders off their parents; they live here, and just spend money. Some go to school here, and some are working here after college, because their family is based here. I learn a lot just from hangin out. It's funny, because there are alos middle-aged people hanging out here and even some old people. Some bars blast rap and club music, and some do oldies, but everyone seems to get along fine. The street, where no cars are allowed, is where everybody just chills together, dances, whatever. I have to piss, no bathrooms - so I run to a shady alley and do my business. Then back to more beer. I missed meeting up with them.... damn. During my time with that girl, apparently, our meeting time had come and gone, and then I got kind of drunk and then had to go home. Blake was still up. We watched music videos, lots of Korean shit, and vapid Chinese pop, and Jet on replay, and then snore. Two hours and some, and we have to get up. Freakin a.
May 23, 2004: Taipei
Hong Kong to Taipei: 23 May, 740 AM: KA 486, 23K
Tour Guide, Ed, Kneeland, Christine, Matt, Alex, Bobys and Jon, at the airport.
Mike showing off the goods.
A typical moment on the bus.
Waking up early, getting on that airplane. This airline ain't anything special: Dragonair (why the initials are KA, I do not know), which is some sort of subsidiary of Cathay Pacific. Anthony buys a bottle of Bombay Sapphire in the airport, it's really cheap. Some good celebrations later on. I'm really grumpy, and arriving in a not-too-impressive airport in a city that looks really blocky and uninteresting, bland... well. The bus is a little garish, with those huge curtains that are brocaded and appear as decorations on many a tacky Chinese tour bus - some people love it, but I hate it, and I purposely take a seat that isn't blocked by the curtains. Christina is our tour guide. She apparently went to school at McMaster, in Hamilton, where I used to live. She's picked up all these horrible mannerisms from her time there, such that she talks like a dumb blonde. Who happens to be Asian. I was watching Full Metal Jacket the other day, and the whore in Hanoi talked like her, "me love you long time!" She had this co-worker who didn't say too much, I think he was what we would term a trainee. I suspect he had more experience in tourism than she did, but she spoke English, which was a great difference. This was her first time, and she didn't know too much about anything. "Sun Yat-Sen... he did something or other," or later, "I forgot to bring my notes."
Dr. Sun Yat-Sen.
A view of the National Concert Hall, on the left, the fair, and the other cool stuff at the Gardens.
The fair and the big white building, with the Doc's statue.
The Changing of the Guard.
She only mentions Sun Yat-Sen because we stop at his gardens. His Memorial Gardens, with the big Memorial Vault-looking building, and then the National Concert Hall, some other big building, and a makeshift fair in the back. Plus all the actual gardenwork, which is pretty nice. We take pictures everywhere (ten minutes in every spot) like good tourists should, and then we go chase after change from the vendors because we're hella thirsty. At least I am - and Nord is like, how did you get your drink? Hehe. There are all these kids, singing nasty horrible songs, but it is pretty cute. Obviously the crowd loves it, though I think they didn't want their eardrums to burst by atually deigning to sit in front. They just crowd around all the sides. After some long, hot tourism (better explained by the pictures) with the gardens, and the changing of the guard (lots of big steps and clack clack before setting feet in place, and taking 20 minutes like any good changing of the guard), and the getting back on the sweet, sweet air-conditioned bus. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the SARS temperature monitors that were set up. LIke the Hong Kong airport, these tested for heat radiating from your head. The difference was, the airport had scanners that caught the temps from far away, and here, you had to put your face up to this contraption and hold it there till it beeped. It screwed up for some people, and I think Laura's head was a little above temperature. Sketch, but she got in. She did not have SARS.
Ryan and Laura in front of the big temple building (and the pretty lake, right next to the crappy hostel).
Kneeland, in our beautiful, beautiful room.
Mike in a massage chair.
Well, whatever. The good thing is that we get to go and rest in the hostel (the Chien Tan Overseas Youth Activity Center) for a little bit - which should be exciting. We pass by this huge pagoda type building that is massive. The story is told that after Chiang Kai-Shek set up his little empire in Taiwan with the help of American soldiers, they needed a place for these soldiers to stay, along with their families. So, they took this old temple and made it into a wonderful beautiful place to stay. BUT... we're not staying there. Past the pretty lake, and the pretty fountain, there's this ugly monster. It's ugly, and we're going to stay here. A girl, pretty in the strict Victorian sense walks by, apparently from an American missionary family, and I say hello. She says hi, but her father shoos her along, and she says, "sorry, we've got to go." Then upstairs, where I am rooming with John Blake, Anthony and John Kneeland. I take the bottom bunk, Blake takes the upper. So here we are in this crappy mosquito-laden room with a shower-on-the-floor, which nobody is used to. Ugh. But the only good thing: a massage chair, that gives awesome massages for pennies. It's illegal in the United States, as it has a tendency to catch fire. Catching fire while having the greatest massage of your life (aside from having one from your favorite girl)... that's a fair enough tradeoff. Funny enough, the Temple University Choir is also staying at our hostel, a few floors down. They are singing in Taipei and in Kaohsiung, as well as in Hong Kong. Anthony knows one of them. I talked to one, and we said we should "hang out" but that never happened.
A view of a Taipei street, from the 7/11 corner.
We stop at a restaurant, at a hotel like always. This one is a buffet, and I eat my smallest meal of the entire trip here. It was pretty gross. Funny how the style of food, just changed a little, makes me not want to eat at all. I'm used to Hong Kong-style cooking, because many of the cooks in Vancouver (also my relatives) cook in that style, and not this more bland Taiwanese style. However, it's kind of a fact that Taiwanese fried dumplings are really good, at those roadside stands that we never had a chance to stop at. Yeah. Walking down the street with a few of the guys, we stop at a 7/11 (really, 7/11 is our lifeblood in Asia). We ask this annoying German guy and his more American-sounding Asian friend where we can go (this after we fail to find out anything from the cashier). Drinks are cheap, so I busy myself looking around for that kind of thing rather than asking those two dimwits (who in the end didn't really know anything, they just wanted to find out what us Americans wanted to see in the city... playing games, geez) what to do. Outside, we go farther down the road, but there doesn't seem to be too much. The city is kind of plain all the way around, and again, I'm not impressed.
"This One Time, At Taiwan."
The first of the beautiful banners we steal and take back home with us.
Singing on stage.
Everybody crammed on stage.. yeah, you can't see anyone really well, whatever.
I swear, this is what all the tickets and posters say. They're plastered everywhere, and they're incredibly tacky. Not that I don't appreciate the attention, because they're loving it. When we're in rehearsal, everyone is incredibly attentive in the tiny auditorium (they really don't know how to make nice performance spaces here... it doesn't take that much money to clean it up.. i mean come on! give me a bucket and I could clean it as well!). Anyway, we're at this activity center, and we're singing with this choir that's very very average. Good thing we're not singing those hideous folksongs. It's terribly hot, because the lights are really close to us and they're just melting!
Performance time. But they love our songs! Way more than the Penn alums did, because they're used to that caliber performance... this audience was a lot more countrified. They'd never seen anything like it (as they kept on telling us) and admittedly, all this attention from all those Taiwanese girls in the other choir was good. For Bobys and Kneeland, that is. They were almost splooging their pants on stage. I didn't really like them all that much, but yeah - I did give out my e-mail address left and right and pose for cellphone pictures. Stupid cellphone pictures.
Christine and Bobys, coming away with one of her "favors".
In the midst of our modest celebrations.
That night we ate at another hotel nearby, the Holiday Inn Asiaworld. It was a really late dinner, and the Caucasian couples at the dinner tables already were almost frightened-looking when our whole crowd rushed and attacked the buffet. The food was OK, manageable, but I didn't eat very much. The whole Taiwan thing was kind of a sour experience for me... not because anything was bad, but just because I didn't like the entire place that much. Gave me the wrong vibe. Even Christina, who insisted on pictures with everybody. Smile, she said, as she gave her camera to Brandon to take a picture of us. Argh. I'll miss you all right. I'll miss you being an entirely terrible tour guide and not telling me anything about Taiwan that I didn't know before I came here. Geez. We had a bunch of Taiwan beers, I had some Carlsberg, and Anthony had his Bombay Sapphire, and come midnight, we had my little birthday celebration. Of all the things that happened that night, all I remember is shouting "bitch please" in the hallway, and yelling Bitterman every five seconds. I'm sure Laura wasn't too happy that night. Not happy at all. Well, at least some of the time. I woke up the next morning in sweaty clothes, a peeling back (from the sun burn I got at Ocean City) and mosquito bites all over the place. The shower was a welcome respite from itching. Apparently, that's what happened to a lot of people too.
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