Summer 2009
I largely credit the awesomeness of my hong kong experience this summer to my Cantonese class. We got along so well and going to class for 4 hours M-F was like going to hang out with friends everyday. Only in a different language.
At the Hong Kong Museum of History, Cheung Jau Island, and out for latenight Tea
I miss everyone already.
Afternoon Tea at the Peninsula Hotel
Out for Local Street Food in Fo Tan
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Disclaimer: Prepare for political incorrectness and generalizations.
In Cantonese class we watched a program about relationships and dating in Hong Kong. The episode we watched discussed “Gong Neuih”, referring to the stereotype about Hong Kong women as gold-diggers. I was told later that “Gong Neuih” is considered derogatory. I used the term in conversation with some locals without realizing this and they quickly corrected me.
Apparently men in Hong Kong are frustrated with that women expect them to pay for everything, to buy expensive brand-name gifts for their girlfriends, and when married allow their wives to take control over family spending. As a result, men feel an incredible pressure to be wealthy. Without a respectable career and a steady income, they lack romantic prospects. They must also be willing to do many menial things for their girlfriends, like carrying her purse for her or taking her shopping and then carrying all of the shopping bags.
The women interviewed say that men/society expects them to look good and looking good costs money. If men wish to accuse women in Hong Kong of being image-obsessed and materialistic, then they should acknowledge that the rest of the city is guilty of it too.
Many HK women go to great lengths to achieve and maintain a slender figure. I saw a commercial while riding MTR (Yes, you can watch news reports and commercials while riding subway in Hong Kong) that featured an average-sized woman walking a dog. Unhappy with her weight, she walks into a parlor, the screen beams and she emerges skinny and happy—her dog barking enthusiastically. There are special non-surgical procedures that many “gong neuih” undergo to slim down, including one in which a weird electric massager goes over the abdomen. I’ve noticed is that there isn’t a stress to work out or to develop muscle definition. If you want to lose weight, don’t go running, just eat less. Or call one of the numbers printed in ads all over the MTR stations and make an appointment to have someone do that electric massager thingy to flatten your stomach.
Hong Kong is very commercialized. Though you can certainly buy things cheaply at the market and shop for reasonably priced clothes, brand-name stores are ubiquitous, with internationally recognized names wherever people shop. And there are too many major shopping malls in Hong Kong to count.
Out of this growing frustration, many HK men have gone to mainland China to find wives. Since they feel that women from the mainland aren’t as demanding, are more willing to have children, and allow the husband to maintain some degree of financial authority in the family. Strange because I’ve also heard that many Japanese women come to Hong Kong and learn Cantonese because they believe that men in Hong Kong treat their wives more equitably compared to Japanese men.
Afterwards, I felt the program we watched in class didn’t do justice to the topic or offer a balanced perspective. I wanted a stronger explanation of the role of money in Chinese relationships…
That day after class, I went with some friends to take part in the English tradition of Afternoon Tea at the Peninsula Hotel, a ritzy and obscenely expensive hotel in downtown Tsim Sha Tsui,. According to William, who is a tea connoisseur, going to the Peninsula Hotel for tea is a very popular activity for the British in Hong Kong. I had been invited along by Michelle. I met up with her and her friends at the MTR station. Among them was Jill from Shanghai. I’ve never met a Chinese girl like Jill; Jill is funny, outgoing, talkative, opinionated, and completely unafraid.
Within seconds of meeting her she asked me if I could speak Mandarin. I responded with “I can understand a bit but I can’t speak much” and then she erupted in Mandarin chatter. She spoke so quickly. I think I only got half of what she said. But the parts I did get were fantastic. She told me that men in Shanghai have to carry their girlfriend’s bags for them. If a man in Shanghai doesn’t carry his girlfriend’s bag, buy her gifts and demonstrate complete devotion, it’s considered unacceptable. I thought this was the most entertaining conversation I had ever had in a language I didn’t really know.
Upon arriving at the hotel, we ordered the afternoon tea set. I asked for Chinese tea. Since I care more about liking the tea I drink than I do about sticking to British tradition.
A heated debate then began over Chinese vs. Western ideas of love and money. We were at the Peninsula Hotel from 6:30 to 10:00PM…that’s how long we talked about it. Poor Michelle, who was the most fluent in Mandarin of the group, had to translate for the rest of us.
So the same stereotype about Hong Kong women exists in Shanghai as well. That they expect their boyfriends/husbands to do and pay for everything. Some locals have told me that they don’t think it’s true for all women—that it’s only a small group of women who behave this way in relationships. Other locals have told me they prefer to date foreigners for this reason.
According to Jill, it’s very common for men in Shanghai to have multiple girlfriends. In Western culture, saying “I love you” is a big deal and it means you only love that one person. In Chinese culture, words mean nothing, and actions mean everything. (On a related note: My popo says the same thing. She thinks I say “please” “thank you” and “sorry” too often. She tells me that those things don’t need to be said out loud. That you say it with subsequent actions and by feeling it in your heart.) A man can say I love you to one woman and just as easily repeat it to another. So how is love/fidelity measured in Chinese culture? With money.
But not so simple. China’s history has a poor country and many families’ experiences with poverty have made money and financial stability a high priority for Chinese people. Thus when a man spends his money on a woman, it is an act of devotion. It also means he is less likely to have multiple girlfriends or wives who he would also spend money on. So for married couples, when the woman controls the finances, it is her strongest guarantee that her husband is being faithful.
When a man saves up money over time in order to buy his wife or girlfriend an expensive gift, it says “I love you” in a way that words can’t. But this only reinforces the stereotype of the gold-digging HK/Shanghai woman. And Chinese men experience a growing pressure to make enough money to make his girlfriend/wife feel valued. In the same way that many HK men leave HK to find wives in mainland China, many Shanghai men leave the city to find wives from the countryside.
We left the Peninsula Hotel that evening exhausted. I felt strange and American. The longer I’m here the more I understand Chinese culture, but also the more I realize how Western I am.
I feel as though my values are a privilege. Growing up in the U.S. has allowed me to believe in things like individualism, independence, freedom, pursuing one’s passion. Here, it’s about responsibility, survival, family. Values that I have too, but ones I don’t really glorify in the way I do others.
For example, most young people in Hong Kong don’t leave home for college. They live with their families until they’re married. Grown men and women stay and live with their parents and grandparents, either to take care of them or because it’s too inconvenient to move out. Meanwhile in the States, we get our first taste of “freedom” as teenagers. We drive at 16 (in California) and at 18 we leave home for dorm life and frat parties. Hong Kong college students don’t really party on-campus. They get together with friends and then come home. A lot of it has to do with how expensive it is to live in HK and the fact that the universities here don’t have the space to house all of its students, especially when most of them are just a train/bus/MTR ride away.
I was given very specific instructions from my grandmother prior to my trip to Macau with friends:
1) Buy your Ferry tickets for the return ticket at the same time you purchase your departure tickets. Don’t buy from peddlers off the street, get it directly from the booth. Arrive an hour early to get tickets.
2) Insist that any change you receive in Macau is in HK currency and not Macau currency. Since Macau currency is useless in HK (The HK dollar and the Macau dollar 1:1). Be prepared with Hong Kong coins for riding buses.
3) Eat the special pork bun “jyu paau bao” at 3:15PM, when they are fresh out of the oven. Get in line and eat it right away. Don’t buy them for take-away. You must eat the Portuguese egg tarts while there. Macau is famous for both of these special snacks.
4) Get a map of the bus lines at the Ferry terminal when you arrive. Take the hotel buses because they’re free.
I traveled with Huan, Ivy, Vince and Jan and we mostly followed her advice. Our first stop was the City of Dreams bus, where we were given a packet full of free promotions (including tickets to see the visual “Bubble” experience) once we were aboard, which we took advantage of.
I was initially reluctant to go to Macau, because I was told it’s the Vegas of Asia. And aside from the concerts, performers, and Cirque du Soleil, I hate Vegas. Thankfully Macau is nothing like Las Vegas. People still smoke indoors which makes the casinos unbearable, but the amount of indoor smoke in Macau is next to nothing compared to Vegas. Macau has an interesting history as a former Portuguese colony. It’s so strange to see old European architecture in juxtaposition with Chinese medicine shops and bakeries. It’s East meets West, but instead of the “blend” that you sort of get in Hong Kong, you can literally see what is East and what is West.
At the City of Dreams we saw an amazing visual-dome-experience entitled “The Bubble” which features four dragons, a karp, and fantastic lighting/water effects. Then my friends tried their hand at the slot machines (since we had a free promotion for a slot machine competition) and all performed poorly. I wasn’t fond of all the standing I had to do, since there was nowhere to sit if you weren’t gambling. But things turned up once we left the hotels to explore the streets of Macau. First stop was the main fortress built by the Portuguese, then to the St. Paul’s Cathedral ruins. Our last and most important stop was the renowned Koi Kei Bakery. I tried all the free samples in the crowded bakery. By the end of the night I had a total of two Portugese Egg tarts, a pork bun, and a mango smoothie in my belly. I can’t remember the last time my tummy was that happy.
I’ve fallen hopelessly behind on blogging and on GRE studying. With good reason I think. I’m doing the best I can to make the most of this experience so I’ve been splitting my time between hanging out with my Cantonese classmates and getting to know the international students in the CUHK ISS program, with visits to my grandma’s roughly twice a week.
Familiar Faces in Hong Kong
Two friends of mine from Stanford who I hadn’t seen in a while happened to be in Hong Kong recently. So of course, I was eager for a reunion. I enjoyed wonton noodles with MacKenzie in Central. And the next night caught up with Joe over Thai food and frozen yogurt. It’s a small world, indeed.
I’ve learned from my visits to the Island (Hong Kong Island, where Central is) just how different Hong Kong Island is from Kowloon and New Territories. The majority of the Westerners here live on the island. It’s definitely the most British of the territories. When most people refer to Hong Kong, they refer to the island, where most of the hustle-n-bustle of politics, economics, and nightlife take place. There you have the most expensive department stores and the properties of the HK elite. Strange because when I think of Hong Kong, I think of Kowloon. Kowloon, pronounced “gau luhng” means “nine dragons”. There are 8 mountains in the region. The 9th ‘peak’ is for Emperor Bing of the Song Dynasty. In Kowloon the skylines are lower, you have street markets and street food, and it’s crowded. People yelling things in Cantonese. Feels more like home to me.
Bargaining in Mong Kok
I can do it but not very well. And it makes me uncomfortable. I had a bad experience with an aggressive saleswoman who became upset when I told her I didn’t want to buy the jacket I had been looking at. As I walked away, I heard her mutter under her breath “Chi sin!” (Cantonese for ‘crazy’). Then at Ladies Market, I was helping Jan bargain for a manbag. I did my best translating. Though there was a slight miscommunication with the saleswoman that ended up working in our favor. I helped bring down the cost of the bag from $145 to $110, which isn’t a huge savings, but Jan was happy.
Lots of street snacks and goodies in Mong Kok. I’m partial to the fruit juices and “gai daan jai”, which is a waffle-like fluffy egg thing. Though I’ve yet to eat them on this trip, as my mother warned me not to.
Jinli, my Canto classmate, introducing me to the frozen strawberry dessert in Mong Kok.
Kowloon City and the Hong Kong Book Fair
On a Friday night after class, we all went out with our two instructors Wan Siu Je and Tsao Taai for street dinner in Kowloon City, where planes from the infamous Kai Tak Airport once flew dangerously low over skyscrapers.
We traveled out for Thai food and traditional Chinese dessert, then took the ferry to the annual HONG KONG BOOK FAIR!!! Who knew HK-ers loved books so much? This is definitely one of the sharpest differences I’ve observed between HK and the States. In America you wouldn’t have crowds of young people flocking to purchase books like this..
I bought A Concise History of Hong Kong by John Carroll. Whether I’ll actually get around to reading it anytime soon, I’m not so sure. I have a pretty terrible track record with regard to actually reading the books I buy.
Big Buddha
After cancelling two cultural tours due to the swine flu breakout, CUHK ISS finally took us to see Big Buddha on Lantau Island. I’ve been to HK several times before but never to the Big Buddha. We also got to check out Tai O, a small fishing village nearby. They call Tai O the “Venice” of Hong Kong, since everything is on the water. I’ve never been to Venice, but Tai O is a MUCH less glamorous version of its European counterpart. The people there make a living off of preparing and drying all sorts of sea creatures for eats.
We climbed the stairs up to the Big Buddha. It was so high up, waves of fog and mist would roll by and it’d feel as if we were literally in the clouds.
P.S. I hate the bugs here
I’ve got mosquito bites all over my legs. Last week I woke up and found that I had been sleeping on a dead bug. I screamed and Huan helped me dispose of the creature.
Huan has been a wonderful roommate. I don’t know why I was initially unsure of our roommate compatibility. She serves as endless entertainment and support. Ivy lives next door, and Linda lives across the hall. So we’re all able to spend time together and freak out about the weird tiny bugs on our walls. Yes, there are bugs on my wall. I’ve given up on killing them. Now I just scooch my bed 6 inches towards the center of the room so that there is zero contact between me and the bug-infested wall while I’m asleep.
My Popo, always working towards self-improvement even at 74 years, spent some time in the afternoon studying with me. She did her English homework, while I studied vocab for the GRE. Then after doing some English exercises, she turned on the radio for an educational program in Chinese. The program tells stories in Chinese, and my Popo follows along in her workbook so she can learn more Chinese characters.
We then went through her old wedding album. She told me about how upset she was when the negatives for the only set of color photos from her wedding were accidentally destroyed. The only ones she has are in black and white.
She was such a beautiful bride.
With my GongGong (maternal grandfather) and his two sisters who I call GuPo.
My Great-grandmother is seated in the middle in the lower row. Popo is seated to my Great-grandmother’s left. The design on the traditional Chinese wedding dress she’s wearing in the photo was hand-painted.
My grandpa was a good-lookin’ guy.
One of the flower girls is my Auntie Michelle. She’s the one with her hair pulled back with a bow on top.
My Popo and Gonggong a year after they married. I think they renewed their vows? I’m not sure I understood what she told me exactly.
My Mom and Auntie Alice when they were little, and then with my Uncle Jackson and their cousins.
(Apparently Mom used to be the tall one.)
This one is my favorite:
And just for kicks, Popo showed me some pictures from when Jodi and I were younger. A lot of this stuff I can’t really remember. But we went on family vacations together to Canada and the East Coast.
From left to right: Gonggong (maternal grandfather), Popo, GuJeung (Gupo’s husband), GuPo the elder (Gonggong’s older sister), Gugong (Gupo the younger’s husband), GuPo the younger (Gonggong’s younger sister). My sister is the small girl in yellow in the background.
My grandparent’s old house in Fremont. My grandparents used to live in the U.S. for 5-6 months at a time, splitting the year between Hong Kong and California.
Celebrating Jodi’s and my birthday in August 1996 at my grandparent’s Fremont home before they moved back permanently to Hong Kong.
Here’s the family with our baby cousin Rachel. Look how cute she was! I’m the one in the middle wearing overalls. My Uncle Jackson is standing in white behind my grandparents.
Popo, Auntie Lillian, and my Auntie Alice visiting Stanford many years ago! I was flipping through the album and surprised to find this photo. Popo didn’t recognize the backdrop as Stanford until I convinced her.
Everyone from my Mom’s side of the family. I forget where we are. My sister is in the yellow dress. and I’m the head peeping out from behind her.
At one point, while looking through photo albums together, Popo shared with me her fears about my baby cousin Larry, who is now 3. How he’s too young to have clear memories about Gonggong. How she wants him to be able to recognize his grandfather in photos. Hearing her talk about my grandpa brought me to tears. On the bus ride home I reflected on my responsibility as the oldest grandchild to remember everything he taught me and to teach my cousins. I miss him a lot.
Storm #1:
We had a swine flu outbreak. 9 students living in my dorm/the dorm adjacent to mine were confirmed cases of H1N1 and everyone freaked out. We were all given the opportunity to take Tamiflu, a preventative prophylactic drug, free of charge. Under the recommendation of the HK government, classes were cancelled the week of July 13-17. Two of our Saturday cultural tours (of 4 total) were cancelled. People wore masks more diligently. When classes finally resumed the next week and there were no more confirmed cases of H1N1, we were required to wear masks during class. Lots of panic. Someone would cough and heads would turn. Emergency meetings telling us to keep washing our hands. I was more afraid of quarantine and stigmatization than I was of the actual flu. So I was a good girl and I wore my mask and washed my hands about 15 times a day. Now things have eased up. We’ve stopped wearing the masks in class because they’re suffocating. The students who were quarantined have moved back into their dorm rooms. They all made speedy recoveries and suffered only minor symptoms. My only thought from all this was that people in Hong Kong are more afraid of the swine flu than they are of exposure to secondhand smoke, which people actually die from.
Storm #2:
An actual storm.
The typhoon signal was level 8 around midnight, and went up to level 9 sometime in the middle of the night on July 19th. There was thunder, lightning, rain that hit the ground like hail, and INSANE WINDS.
I stayed in with friends and watched Ip Man, fantastic kung fu movie in Cantonese.
Woke up the next morning and everything was fine. We had to cancel plans for the beach, which was unfortunate. Ah well..
My Cantonese class had the BRILLIANT idea to go out to karaoke together in Tsim Sha Tsui on Friday. Sofia (our teacher), Philip, Pear, Charles and I each put down roughly $54 HK dollars (1 US dollar = 7.8 HK dollars) for a 4-hour session that included drinks and snacks. You can go with your friends, get a private room with microphones and access to karoake tunes from all over the world (HK, China, Japan, Europe, U.S.). Of course, I only knew songs in English. So I sang some of my personal favorites. Our Cantonese teacher, Sofia, is the woman singing here with the yellow microphone.
…I’m so sad that karaoke back in the states isn’t like this.
I left after 2 hours to meet up with Linda, Huan, Ivy, Vince, and Jan. Linda’s friend Justin, who lives in HK, took us to a local seafood place and then to bowling. We ate outdoors in the street, got a pretty good deal on lots of seafood. Though afterwards I still wasn’t full and had to get myself something to eat at McDonald’s near the bowling alley. I bowled terribly. First round 42, second round 54.
Then we hauled ourselves all the way home via minibus and walking uphill to our dorms in CUHK.
Good Day.
Years ago when I came to Hong Kong to visit my grandparents, a nearby bakery had Japanese Pontikege freshly out of the oven. I tried it and after that first taste, it quickly became my favorite baked good of all time. Since then, every time I’m in Hong Kong, I stuff myself with Pontikege.
They’re on sale at the A-1 bakery at the MTR station near my Popo’s apartment. Every time I visit her, I buy 10 at a time for 20 HK Dollars. By the next morning they’re all in my stomach.
mmMMMMmmmm yummy. nomnomnomnomnom.
They come in different flavors (Sesame, Chocolate, Cheese, Milk, Green Tea). To my knowledge, they are only made in Hong Kong. Breadlike on the outside, and deliciously chewy on the inside.
Pontikege is a type of bread made and sold in Hong Kong. The traditional flavor is savory and made with cheese but it comes in many sweeter varieties including chocolate and green tea with red beans. Pontikege is made from Japanese sticky rice flour and baked so that it is crispy on the outer shell but doughy and glutinous in the middle.. (Freebase)
^chocolate flavor. my personal favorite.
Women in Hong Kong tend to leave the toilet seat up. I think it’s a sanitation thing.
Jamie