About Hong Kong And Hong Kong

Hong Kong (Chinese: 香港) is a special administrative region of the People's Republic of China. Situated on China's south coast and enclosed by the Pearl River Delta and South China Sea, it is renowned for its expansive skyline and deep natural harbour. With land mass of 1,104 km2 (426 sq mi) and a population of seven million people, Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Hong Kong's population is 95% ethnic Chinese and 5% from other groups.

Under the principle of "one country, two systems", Hong Kong runs on economic and political systems different from those of mainland China. Hong Kong is one of the world's leading international financial centres, with a major capitalist service economy characterised by low taxation, free trade and minimum government intervention under the ethos of positive non-interventionism. The Hong Kong dollar is the 9th most traded currency in the world.

Hong Kong's independent judiciary functions under the common law framework. Its political system is governed by the Basic Law of Hong Kong, its constitutional document. It has a burgeoning multi-party system, and its legislature is partly elected through universal suffrage. The Chief Executive of Hong Kong is the head of government.
Hong Kong became a colony of the British Empire after the First Opium War (1839–1842). Originally confined to Hong Kong Island, the colony's boundaries were extended in stages so as to include the Kowloon Peninsula and the New Territories by 1898. It was occupied by the Japanese during the Pacific War, after which the British resumed control until 1997, when China regained sovereignty. The Basic Law stipulates that Hong Kong shall enjoy a "high degree of autonomy" in all matters except foreign relations and military defence

Culture

Hong Kong is frequently described as a place where "East meets West", reflecting the culture's mix of the territory's Chinese roots with the culture brought to it during its time as a British colony. One of the more noticeable contradictions is Hong Kong's balancing of a modernised way of life with traditional Chinese practices. Concepts like feng shui are taken very seriously, with expensive construction projects often hiring expert consultants, and are often believed to make or break a business. Other objects like Ba gua mirrors are still regularly used to deflect evil spirits, and buildings often lack any floor number that has a 4 in it, due to its similarity to the word for "die" in the Chinese language. The fusion of east and west also characterises Hong Kong's cuisine, where dim sum, hot pot and fast food restaurants coexist with haute cuisine.
Hong Kong is a recognised global centre of trade, and calls itself an 'entertainment hub'. Its martial arts film genre gained a high level of popularity in the late 1960s and 1970s. Several Hollywood performers and martial artists have originated from Hong Kong cinema, notably Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, Chow Yun-Fat, and Yuen Woo-ping. A number of Hong Kong film-makers have also achieved widespread fame in Hollywood, such as John Woo, Wong Kar-wai and Stephen Chow. Homegrown films such as Chungking Express, Infernal Affairs, Shaolin Soccer, Rumble in the Bronx, and In the Mood for Love have gained international recognition. Hong Kong is the centre for Cantopop music, which draws its influence from other forms of Chinese music and Western genres, and has a multinational fanbase

The Hong Kong government supports cultural institutions such as the Hong Kong Heritage Museum, the Hong Kong Museum of Art, the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts, and the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra. Also, the government's Leisure and Cultural Services Department subsidises and sponsors international performers brought to Hong Kong. Many international cultural activities are organised by the government, consulates, and privately.
Hong Kong has two licensed terrestrial broadcasters – ATV and TVB. There are three local and a number of foreign suppliers of cable and satellite services. The production of Hong Kong's soap dramas, comedy series and variety shows reach audiences throughout the Chinese-speaking world. Magazine and newspaper publishers in Hong Kong distribute and print in both Chinese and English, with a focus on sensationalism and celebrity gossip. The media is relatively free from official interference compared to mainland China, although the Far Eastern Economic Review points to signs of self-censorship by journals whose owners have close ties to or business interests in the PRC, but state that even Western media outlets are not immune to growing Chinese economic power.
Hong Kong offers wide recreational and competitive sport opportunities despite its limited land area. It sends delegates to international competition, namely the Olympic Games and Asian Games, and played host to the equestrian events during the 2008 Summer Olympics.[112] There are major multipurpose venues like Hong Kong Coliseum and MacPherson Stadium. Hong Kong's steep terrain makes it ideal for hiking, with expansive views over the territory, and its rugged coastline provides many beaches for swimming.

Transport

Hong Kong has a highly developed transportation network. Over 90% of daily travels (11 million) are on public transport, making it the highest percentage in the world. Payment can be made using the Octopus card, a stored value system introduced by the MTR, which is now widely accepted on railways, buses and ferries, and well as accepted for cash at other outlets.
The city's rapid transit system, MTR, has 150 stations, which serve 3.4 million people a day. Hong Kong Tramways, which has served the territory since 1904, covers the northern parts of Hong Kong Island and is the only tram system in the world run exclusively with double deckers. Double-decker buses were introduced to Hong Kong in 1949, and are now almost exclusively used; single-decker buses remain in use for routes with lower demand or roads with lower load capacity. Most normal franchised bus routes in Hong Kong operate until 1 a.m. Public light buses serve most parts of Hong Kong, particularly areas where standard bus lines cannot reach or do not reach as frequently, quickly or directly.
The Star Ferry service, founded in 1888, operates four lines across Victoria Harbour and provides scenic views of Hong Kong's skyline for its 53,000 daily passengers. It acquired iconic status following its use as a setting on The World of Suzie Wong. Travel writer Ryan Levitt considered the main Tsim Sha Tsui to Central crossing one of the most picturesque in the world. Other ferry services are provided by operators serving outlying islands, new towns, Macau and cities in mainland China. Hong Kong is also famous for its junks traversing the harbour, and small kai-to ferries which serve remote coastal settlements.
Hong Kong Island's steep, hilly terrain calls for some unusual ways of getting up and down the slopes. It was initially served by sedan chair, steeply ascending the side of a mountain. The Peak Tram, the first public transport system in Hong Kong, has provided vertical rail transport between Central and Victoria Peak since 1888. In Central and Western district, there is an extensive system of escalators and moving pavements, including the longest outdoor covered escalator system in the world, the Mid-Levels escalator. Hong Kong International Airport is a leading air passenger gateway and logistics hub in Asia and one of the world's busiest airports in terms of international passenger and cargo movement, serving more than 47 million passengers and handling 3.74 million tonnes of cargo in 2007. It replaced the overcrowded Kai Tak Airport in Kowloon in 1998, and has been rated as the world's best airport in a number of surveys. Over 85 airlines operate at the two-terminal airport and it is the primary hub of Cathay Pacific, Dragonair, Air Hong Kong, Hong Kong Airlines and Hong Kong Express.

Down and Out in Hong Kong – Hong Kong, China, Asia

One Country, Two Systems
Having spent over two-and-a-half straight years in the Chinese mainland without leave, it was with both anticipation and apprehension that I recently crossed the southern border into Asia’s wealthiest city.

Despite its one-stop-shopping popularity with Mainland expats needing new clothes and a new visa, I truly had no idea what to expect in the former crown colony that supposedly makes even rich men feel poor. Rather terrified of exacting reverse culture shock, I saved English-speaking Hong Kong and its “One Country, Two Systems” self for the tail end of my journey across the 32 Chinese provinces.

And it is here that all my preconceptions and fears about Hong Kong were – true. To quote the under-appreciated American writer, Thomas A. Carter (me!), upon his brief sojourn in the legendary Chinese city, “I’ve never felt more poor than when I was in Hong Kong. I’ve never felt more ugly than when I was in Hong Kong.”

DAY 1 – I feel like a migrant worker back in Beijing
Cross the Shenzhen-Hong Kong border at Louhu and catch the immaculate KCR railway, immediately impressed that nobody is staring, shoving or spitting. Arrive in Kowloon’s southern peninsula and emerge from the underground into the land of lights – Tsim Sha Tsui. Blinded with excitement, I have to ask a resplendent group of Indian women draped in saris where the Mirador Mansion is. They point their gold-ringed fingers straight up – a towering, rust-stained concrete block, one of Hong Kong’s only affordable accommodations. I check in to a claustrophobic dorm room (three times the price of a Mainland dorm and three times smaller), then hit Nathan Road. Peering up into the neon lights, tripping in the crush of the crowds, I feel like a migrant worker back in Beijing.

DAY 2 – So Much for Getting a Date
Awoken at 6:00 a.m. by one of my bunkmates stumbling in after a long night. His name is Pat, a young American backpacker with long red hair, whose introduction is immediately followed by a long-winded narrative about his two-week romps in Hong Kong, including scoring with the mythical “Asian girls who LOOOVE foreign guys". When I counter that I never had any such luck, the fast-talking but likeable Pat proffers some off-the-cuff advice (“Dude, lose the beard”) before launching into more useful information. “It’s Sunday, okay, and there’s gonna be, like, 120,000 Filipino nannies and maids on their only day off, looking for boyfriends!”

I’m a little dubious of Pat’s generalizations, but sure enough, his mobile rings continuously with calls from adoring cleaning ladies he met the Sunday before. An afternoon stroll around Statue Square reveals a literal blanket of thousands of picnicking South Asian women (Hong Kong’s largest migrant communities) whose collective chatter sounds like a large flock of seagulls. When I attempt to candidly photograph one attractive young Filipino, she shouts “Hey! I klick jor ass!” So much for getting a date.

DAY 3 – What Are Weekdays For
Fieldtrip to Shek O Beach on Hong Kong Island’s south side, savoring the soft sand and splashing in the subtropical South China Sea. Supposedly, this place is packed out on the weekend, but that’s what weekdays are for, no? It’s one of those moments when I enjoy being unemployed. Chase my fun in the sun with a tram ride up Victoria Peak for a breathtaking evening vista of skyscrapers, that appear to be constructed entirely out of lights. Dafnit, an Israeli girl, clearly in awe of the Hong Kong skyline, remarks, “We have no tall buildings in Israel. Oh wait – we have one!”

DAY 4 – So Cool and So Young
Spend the day traversing Kowloon, the fashion billboards of TST turning into seedy massage parlor billboards as I descend northwest down the Nathan Road side streets, the sun lost behind precipices of neon signs stretching horizontally over the streets. The markets of Mong Kok are mobbed with uniformed students on lunch break – long-haired boys with untucked white shirts and loosened ties, made-up girls in little outfits out of a Japanese kogal/hentai fantasy: knee-high black stockings, short skirts and a Louis Vuitton bag to carry their pencils and books. They have tattoos, tongue piercings and smoke cigarettes. After commenting that they are the hippest students in China I’ve seen, one 15-year-old boy replies in perfect English, “Yes, so cool, but so young".

DAY 5 – Microcosm of Capitalism
I want to see how the other half lives. I spend the day in Central, Hong Kong Island’s microcosm of capitalism. Cross Victoria Harbor by the centuries-old Star Ferry through a morning miasma of pollution. I follow white-collared crowds of businessmen contending with cell phones, briefcases and lattés into their respective skyscrapers. Later I observe as many women shopping in designer department stores – these must be the wives.

I notice they clutch their purses as I walk by, then realize why, as I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflective facade of the Bank of China tower. My head cast down in self-consciousness, I almost get rolled over by a Rolls (driving on the wrong side of the road, damn Brits!), then almost again by a double-decker cable car. Everyone in Central must be against me.

My insecurities are firmed up that evening in Lan Kwai Fong, a gentrified neighborhood of upscale restaurants and bars on the Island’s northern escarpment. The steep streets are congested with young, well-to-do westpats toasting yet another successful day of money-making. I can’t believe there are so many white people in China who aren’t English teachers! They are smartly dressed and have well-groomed hair; I am wearing cutoff army pants, low-top fake Converse, an eight year old T-shirt that I bought used. I haven't shaved or cut my locks in the eight months I’ve been on the road. I want to belong, but I don’t. It’s one of those moments when I regret being unemployed.

DAY 6 – Seedier Nightspots
I give the Island another chance and take the night ferry across the harbor to the north end’s older and seedier nightspot, the infamous Wan Chai. Recall it is where Richard Mason penned his 1950’s tale of forbidden love, “The World Of Suzie Wong", though a lot has changed since he wrote “take a minute’s stroll from the center and you won’t see a European". The pick-up bars still line the road, yum-yum girls luring passersby into their neon-lit dens, but these are the illegitimate daughters of Suzie Wong, not of Chinese but Thai descent, wearing not elegant silk cheongsams, but cheap miniskirts raised to immodest heights. Unlike the kindly ladies of the Nam Kok Hotel, these modern-day working girls are vicious, mercenary, cold.

When a group of obviously disappointed white boys emerge from one venue exclaiming, “In Thailand they take off ALL their clothes", the brown-skinned door girl in plastic go-go boots is quick to shout back, “Then go to Thailand!”

Further down Lockhart, I follow a couple of older Europeans primed with drink and flirting heavily with a lovely bouquet of girls looking for generous company. After making their arrangements, one of the men leans on me and confides, “Wy mife, I mean my wife, thinks I’m *HICCUP* at a conference.” The remaining girls give this poor writer a cursory glance, then quickly cross the street away from me.

DAY 7 – The Nongmin
I wake up feeling dejected and classless; the expatriates of Central don’t want me, nor do the waterfront girls of Wan Chai. Take a stroll around TST, passing by friendly knots of third-world hustlers hanging out in front of the Chungking Mansions, the immigrant ghetto of Kowloon that serves as temporary living quarters for Hong Kong’s financially insolvent émigrés. A street corner tout from Kashmir says to me “The Mansions is where anyone not wearing pastel shorts or a suit stay.” I realize this mad cauldron of multiculturalism is the only place I truly feel at home in Hong Kong. The Africans on the never-quiet front steps always high-five me, the Pakistanis think I’m Muslim (must be the beard), and the Indians bat their eyelashes at me. The Chungking Mansions are the international haunt for anyone who is no one. I am one of them. It is a peasant’s epiphany – in Hong Kong, I am the "nongmin".

Tom Carter is a freelance writer and photographer in Beijing. This story was originally published in the November 2006 edition of That's PRD Magazine.

Homage to Big Buddha – Hong Kong

View looking up as you ascend to Big Buddha

Hong Kong
I turned my head to face the window and immediately sensed something overhead. My eyes instinctively glanced out and slightly upward. There it was, the Big Buddha towering over me as the #2 bus I was riding in swirled around the narrow and winding road on its way to Po Lin Monastery on Hong Kong’s Lantau Island.

The guidebook was right, telling me to be sure to get a window seat on the right side of the bus. For that, I was rewarded for the last ten minutes of the ride with a sight of “Tian Tan,” as the Big Buddha is called, from underneath looking up, enabling me to appreciate all of its splendor from bottom to top, front to back.

It’s Friday morning and I start out at Pier 6 in Hong Kong’s Central District, paying $21HK for the ferry boat ride to Lantau. Just before boarding, I buy some snacks and drinks from the pier vendors. The boat is less than one-half full, and most of the riders appear to be locals. I munch on the snacks, quite delicious by the way, during the fifty-minute boat ride.

I follow the crowd after alighting the boat at Mui Wo Pier (Silvermine Bay). A walk of about 100 yards takes me to the bus stop where I get into a line of waiting passengers. No more than five minutes later, the bus comes, the #2 Po Lin Monastery. The group of four ahead of me quickly learns from the bus driver that they need to have the exact fare and since they don’t have that they are denied entry onto the bus. Luckily, I have an Octopus card, good for bus, subway and ferry transportation in Hong Kong, Kowloon, and surrounding areas. The fare? $16HK today but it is $25HK on Sundays and holidays.

Soon the bus slowly climbs a small hill, and within minutes it goes downhill, and around, and then up another hill, and still another, repeating the process not unlike that of a merry-go-around ride. Although the speed is not fast by any means, only about 20 miles per hour, the narrow two-way lane makes me imagine the ride Cary Grant and Grace Kelly took in the south of France in the movie It Takes A Thief. Actually, there are stops along the way as the road gets so narrow that either the bus I am riding in or the one coming in the opposite way has to pull over the side to allow the other to pass. Surely the next guidebook to be published on Hong Kong should include this bus ride, lasting forty minutes of fun and anticipation, as one not to be missed.

Surrounding area as you descend from Big Buddha

They say most urban Hongkongers have never visited Lantau. And I can see why. On the ride I pass little villages and hamlets that seem never to have come of age since the 1950s. Very tiny and short buildings, some used both residentially and commercially, date back some fifty years, when Hong Kong and Kowloon had just begun to be the primary destination for Chinese mainlanders wishing to leave the regime that had come to power. Little has changed, except the young have gone to the city for schooling and jobs. One can find this island a peaceful retreat, to read, to write, to reflect, to simply let time and the rest of the world pass.

At the ticket purchase office for Buddha, I opt for the admission fee with meal, $23HK and am given two tickets, one for admission and one for the meal. Ah, Big Buddha! Never mind the exact measurements of its height or weight. It is huge, billed as “the biggest outdoor and seated Buddha in the world.” A sight to behold. There are about 300 steps to walk up to get nearer to Buddha but don’t bother to count. Just make the trip up at your own pace, stop when you feel a need to catch your breath, and turn around to take in the panoramic view of the surrounding forested areas interpersed with the monastery and other structures, and then continue up. Young kids and elderly folks alike make the trip up. Some of the elderly even have to use walking canes. Nothing, not even 300 uphill steps, is going to stop them from getting closer to Big Buddha. Babies, some seated comfortably in strollers, are carried by their parents.

Standing next to Buddha, I get a very solemn feeling. I reflect on what I know about Buddhism. Even if you are not a Buddhist, as long as you have respect for religion and traditional philosophy, you will get that same feeling. Others near me marvel at the structure, it with its right hand raised up from the elbow, palm fanning outward and its left hand with its opened palm facing up. Its facial gesture seems to convey the message to all who will pay heed, “Do not worry. Everything will be all right.”

The walk down is much easier and quicker. Po Lin Monastery (“Precious Lotus”) is directly opposite a group of gold, green and red structures. I go into the courtyard and give the meal ticket to one of the many women servers behind the counter. She quickly fills a plate with generous portions of a variety of vegetarian food (“jai”) and cakes. My plate contains both bland and sweet varieties and there is more than enough to eat that I can forgo dinner tonight.

On the return trip, I take the #23 bus (fare $16HK) to the Tung Chung MTR Station, from which subway connections can be made to points in Hong Kong or Kowloon.

Big Buddha towering over 300 steps

After a refreshing shower in my room at the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, I make my way downstairs to the Safari Lounge to enjoy happy hour where, with the exception of a few premium brands and drinks, it’s all you can drink at just $88HK and snacks are free. They even throw in a fantastic view of the harbor and Hong Kong skyline through the window at no extra charge.

If You Go
The consensus on the best time to visit Hong Kong seems to be late September through the end of December, with the exception of certain dates in February, when you can partake in very traditional and elaborate Chinese New Year celebrations throughout the city and surrounding areas that run for a full ten days. If you go at any other times, expect to be ready for rainy and very discomforting hot and humid weather that inevitably occurs the rest of the year.

Getting There
There are so many ways. The first time traveler to Hong Kong might consider buying a tour package, inclusive of airfare, hotel room, some meals with a couple of popular local tours thrown in.

Where To Stay
The range of available accommodations is endless. You will expect to pay the most if you stay in “Central” on the Kong Kong side or “Tsim Sha Tsui” on the Kowloon side but both locations are ideal as a base to do your shopping, sightseeing and dining. As for the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers in Tsim Sha Tsui mentioned earlier, I would certainly stay there again.

What To Do
Guidebooks and the local tourism office will give you more things to do and places to go than you will have time for. However, if you happen to be in Hong Kong in February during the time of the annual Hong Kong Salsa Festival, try to make at least one or two events. This is an extravaganza not to be missed, even for the non-dance enthusiast. The promoters put on a 6-day and night affair that is replete with over thirty teams of international performers in salsa and other Latin dances, high level competitions among the best dancers in the world. Guests are treated to the exotic and rhythmic sounds of the Latin beat put out by disc jockeys and bands who are locally famous in Asia, Europe, and North America.For the tourist, the festival’s Duk Ling Ride on a junk gives a panoramic view of Victoria Harbor and Hong Kong’s skyline.

Curious Cuisine in Hong Kong – Hong Kong

Hong Kong

“Bite and suck,” Tami tells me, her umber eyes wide with anticipation.

Using my fingers, I pick up the kiwi sized chicken foot from the hot metal bin on the table. It’s seasoned yellow skin warms the pad of my thumb. The clangs of dishes and nasal sounds of the patron’s nine-toned Cantonese fade in proportion to my growing apprehension.

“It’s okay, really. They’re good,” Tami says while reclining. Her her bony shoulders rest on the fabric covered chair back. Her straight black hair brushes the curved top of its brass edges. “Try it.”

Why not, right? It’s just chicken. Chicken like any other chicken only this time raised in Hong Kong, cooked in the New Territories and served up foot-only style. It’s just chicken at this native-filled, dinner-only restaurant just a few blocks from the Sham Shui Po metro stop.

Tami was a high school exchange student in my small mid-western hometown. Her only complaint was our lack of authentic Chinese food. Fifteen years later, here I am, on her turf debating whether to suck the meat off this Chinese chicken foot. It’s the polite thing to do. Eat her food, that is. After all, she ate mine. And after hiking to the Peak Tower, exploring the Stanley Main Street Market on the other side of the island, and navigating the rush hour metro, I am famished.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it. I’m just getting prepared,” I say inspecting the bumped flimsy skin. Each drip of grease begins to decorate my white porcelain plate in the shape of a smile. “How do I do it?”

“Stick the entire foot into your mouth up to this joint,” she pointed to the knobby piece of cartilage displaying a white hue underneath the thin layer of meat. “Once you’ve bitten, then suck hard. All the good meat will slide right off into your mouth, juicy and rich. You can tell if it’s been prepared well if the meat slides easily, not too raw and not too cooked.”

I take a breath and exhale slowly, puffing out my cheeks like Miles Davis on the trumpet. A large laughter explodes from the family of seven seated behind us, breaking my concentration. At first look, the low-ceilinged ballroom-style restaurant is dotted by circular tables strewn about in no particular order. Upon further analysis, I see the two-hundred patrons, evenly spaced. Thin walkways fill with wandering waiters. Stares gleam in my direction from a few of the smiling faces in this popular eatery. One male with gelled spiky hair nods, the bobbling head type of nod, silently encouraging me.

“Here it goes,” I say, crossing my eyes over the bridge of my nose. The noises fade again. I watch my hand lift the now lukewarm clump of bone, flesh, cartilage and muscle to my mouth. As instructed, I open my mouth wide enough to insert the entire foot, still securing the end with my hand. With lips spread apart, massive pink gums flash my audience. I search with my top two and bottom four teeth for the notch of the joint.

A deep groan sounds from my throat as I prepare to suck. My eyes dart to Tami, a typical petite Chinese woman, as she laughs at the site of this big American traveler tasting her first chicken foot. Now, like the boy on the Cheerio commercials, I form an “O” with my mouth and clamp down. The slimy skin tingles my lips. I blow out from my nose so as not to smell. Inside my tongue works furiously around the bone, loosening the skin, in preparation for the suck.

I stretch my eyes and pinch all my cheek muscles inward like a bad face lift. With rookie precision I pull my hand away from my face and simultaneously suck the entire contents from the bone. My mouth churns its contents towards the back of my teeth and up again, chewing the tender meat. I drop the foot carcass on the metal plate along side it’s matching bin as I savor the spicy grease inside my mouth.

“Well,” says Tami with a smirk, “What do you think?”

I force a swallow. Wait. Swallow again. Then turn and say, “Tastes like chicken.”

Tami stands with bent knees and reaches her pale lanky arms over the table. The sizzles and commotion of the restaurant ricochet off my ear drums once again. I glance towards the previous stare and catch a thumbs up from Spiky Haired Man. I have passed the first gastronomy test and have yet to crack.

“Next, I have a salad for you to try,” Tami says, placing a cereal bowl-sized container in front of me. “You need to use your chop sticks for this one. I’m going to eat some too.”

As I reach for the two plastic black sticks, a classy place, no wood, I examine my next challenge. The bowl overflows with a mound of curly pink things, the color of silly putty. They’re not alive. The smooth tubular items glisten with a juicy sauce. The overpowering scent of lime blocks any other defining smells.

I rest one heavy chop stick on the top knuckle of my right hand middle finger while the expert Tami, quickly snatches up a salmon-colored squiggle. I then clasp the other stick in between my pointer finger and thumb, brass wrapped end towards my forearm, rounded tip up. Tami continues to shovel the salad into her mouth without a drop of dressing spotting the maroon polyester/linen table cloth. With tools finally in balance, I begin to prod the now flattened pile.

“What is it?” I ask as I begin my investigation, pinchers bouncing off the silly putty. Some mysterious greens speckle the bite-sized morsels.

She eyes my face then the bowl, back to my face, and says, “Don’t worry about it. Just eat it. It’s good.”

I stop asking. Better not to know. I’m fortunate to have no food allergies so I tell myself to remain flexible, to adapt. With my free hand, I clench the cloth napkin lying next to the bowl and move it to my lap. Worst case scenario, I’ll spit it out.

Using my stick tips I poke what I now rationalize as dense lime-flavored, wet bubble gum curly fries. After four unsuccessful attempts at securing a curl with my chops, I finally succeed. The rubber band bounces around in my mouth while I slurp the sour sauce off my lips. I bite. The soft crunch resonates up through my jaws and into my ears. Jagged edged strands of meat stick in the crevasses of my teeth, not the least bit succulent. I crunch again.

My eyelashes flutter. Eyes begin to water. I imagine the whites growing red. “I think I got a pepper,” I mumble through my full mouth. Releasing the crinkled napkin, I grab my glass of water.

Tami, both elbows propped on the table, watches my reaction. “Yeah, I should have told you, there are chili peppers added to the lime juice and vegetables shavings. They add flavor. How do you like it so far?” she asks.

Am I supposed to say to my gracious hostess, that its awful, that I’ll never try it again? Burning tongue quenched I say, “Not bad, there’s not too much taste from the meat of the fish part or whatever it is. But I like the sauce.” I felt the first bite hit my stomach and imagined it squirming about, revived from its dormant phase and rejuvenated by human stomach juices.

“I’m glad you like the pig’s ear salad,” she says, like I’ve heard it a million times before.

With left hand back in my lap around the napkin, my right slowly sets down my chop sticks on the quarter sized, white porcelain holder to the right of my plate. I look again at the bowl, then back at Tami. She laughs and calls the waiter over with a flick of her raised hand. “This next one we order fresh. It’s not so good room temperature so he’ll bring it out hot in a minute.”

I raise my eyebrows “Do I ask about this one?” I say.

“I wouldn’t.”

While we wait, Tami pulls out a long thin notepad from the plastic office holder in the center of the table. The movement disrupts the handful of small eraserless pencils behind it.

“This is how most of the sit-down restaurants work in Hong Kong. It’s better to eat with a larger crowd, your family,” she says studying the slashes, dots, and crosses that formulate the Chinese characters printed on the pad. “We usually come here together, my grandma, parents, and my brother and sister.” Tami and her siblings, all over twenty-five, still live at home together. “With six people we fill up a table and then mark on the notepad the dishes that we want to share. My dad gives the paper to the waiter and the food comes. Sometimes we order fifteen or twenty plates of food.”

I scan the crowd guessing who is the grandma or the wife. Which child belongs to which couple. Each table a different personality: the strong silent types, the gregarious jokesters, intimate confidants. As the only American here, I feel honored to participate in this cultural experience, a Tuesday evening dinner. Already strange by the way I look, I choose not to be strange by the way I eat.

The waiter returns holding another white porcelain plate with his silver potholder. I sit up, arch my back, and lift my chin to peer over the top. As the plate descends in front of my face I see three cream colored disks, the size of hockey pucks, but only half the thickness. They swim in a thick light brown broth.

“Is it sweet?” I ask, leaning over to catch a smell, if any.

“No, but you have to eat it warm. In the olden days this was served to royalty. People don’t eat it much any more. They’re reserved for special occasions.” Tami takes a knife. Securing the slippery puck with her chop stick, she begins to saw one disk into a bite-sized piece for me.

I imagine myself in purple silk gown, decorated with scarlet and golden embroidery. All the people of the restaurant are my courtesans. Our sole purpose, to protect and promote peace throughout the land.

The smell of left-over, cold chicken feet bursts my fantasy. Wafts of sour lime mixed with the sweet sizzling beef and basil from the table to my right, seeps under my nose.

“It’s easier to eat this way,” Tami says as she pushes the morsel towards my edge of the plate. “Here you go.”

Instead of pinching, I spear the puck with one chop stick and raise it to my nose. A mixture of dirt and sugar smell lingers near each nostril. I place the warm, heavy piece into my mouth and begin to chew. It’s tough and hard to penetrate. Not crunchy like a potato chip, but hard to chew like cold caramel. A little airy. My tongue licks and sucks the juices off the now white disk, almost like a water chestnut, but much sturdier.

The taste?

Tami must notice the crinkle of my forehead and squint in my eyes. She doesn’t wait for the large bulge of my throat to rise up and fall. She hands me a cool milky, kool-aid concoction and says with a smile, “Chicken feet, pigs ears and camel hooves. Welcome to Hong Kong.”

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Born and raised in Wisconsin, Ellen Peneski’s earliest memory of traveling is at the age of six, when her parents said at 11:30 p.m. one evening, “Get ready kids we’re going to a baseball game.” The author didn’t question the midnight departure, nor the fact that they were driving to Toronto, Canada…over twelve hours away. Since then, Peneski’s journeys have taken her to 48 of the United States, and more than 35 countries in South East Asia, Europe, Central and South America.

Homage to Big Buddha – Hong Kong

View looking up as you ascend to Big Buddha

Hong Kong
I turned my head to face the window and immediately sensed something overhead. My eyes instinctively glanced out and slightly upward. There it was, the Big Buddha towering over me as the #2 bus I was riding in swirled around the narrow and winding road on its way to Po Lin Monastery on Hong Kong’s Lantau Island.

The guidebook was right, telling me to be sure to get a window seat on the right side of the bus. For that, I was rewarded for the last ten minutes of the ride with a sight of “Tian Tan,” as the Big Buddha is called, from underneath looking up, enabling me to appreciate all of its splendor from bottom to top, front to back.

It’s Friday morning and I start out at Pier 6 in Hong Kong’s Central District, paying $21HK for the ferry boat ride to Lantau. Just before boarding, I buy some snacks and drinks from the pier vendors. The boat is less than one-half full, and most of the riders appear to be locals. I munch on the snacks, quite delicious by the way, during the fifty-minute boat ride.

I follow the crowd after alighting the boat at Mui Wo Pier (Silvermine Bay). A walk of about 100 yards takes me to the bus stop where I get into a line of waiting passengers. No more than five minutes later, the bus comes, the #2 Po Lin Monastery. The group of four ahead of me quickly learns from the bus driver that they need to have the exact fare and since they don’t have that they are denied entry onto the bus. Luckily, I have an Octopus card, good for bus, subway and ferry transportation in Hong Kong, Kowloon, and surrounding areas. The fare? $16HK today but it is $25HK on Sundays and holidays.

Soon the bus slowly climbs a small hill, and within minutes it goes downhill, and around, and then up another hill, and still another, repeating the process not unlike that of a merry-go-around ride. Although the speed is not fast by any means, only about 20 miles per hour, the narrow two-way lane makes me imagine the ride Cary Grant and Grace Kelly took in the south of France in the movie It Takes A Thief. Actually, there are stops along the way as the road gets so narrow that either the bus I am riding in or the one coming in the opposite way has to pull over the side to allow the other to pass. Surely the next guidebook to be published on Hong Kong should include this bus ride, lasting forty minutes of fun and anticipation, as one not to be missed.

Surrounding area as you descend from Big Buddha

They say most urban Hongkongers have never visited Lantau. And I can see why. On the ride I pass little villages and hamlets that seem never to have come of age since the 1950s. Very tiny and short buildings, some used both residentially and commercially, date back some fifty years, when Hong Kong and Kowloon had just begun to be the primary destination for Chinese mainlanders wishing to leave the regime that had come to power. Little has changed, except the young have gone to the city for schooling and jobs. One can find this island a peaceful retreat, to read, to write, to reflect, to simply let time and the rest of the world pass.

At the ticket purchase office for Buddha, I opt for the admission fee with meal, $23HK and am given two tickets, one for admission and one for the meal. Ah, Big Buddha! Never mind the exact measurements of its height or weight. It is huge, billed as “the biggest outdoor and seated Buddha in the world.” A sight to behold. There are about 300 steps to walk up to get nearer to Buddha but don’t bother to count. Just make the trip up at your own pace, stop when you feel a need to catch your breath, and turn around to take in the panoramic view of the surrounding forested areas interpersed with the monastery and other structures, and then continue up. Young kids and elderly folks alike make the trip up. Some of the elderly even have to use walking canes. Nothing, not even 300 uphill steps, is going to stop them from getting closer to Big Buddha. Babies, some seated comfortably in strollers, are carried by their parents.

Standing next to Buddha, I get a very solemn feeling. I reflect on what I know about Buddhism. Even if you are not a Buddhist, as long as you have respect for religion and traditional philosophy, you will get that same feeling. Others near me marvel at the structure, it with its right hand raised up from the elbow, palm fanning outward and its left hand with its opened palm facing up. Its facial gesture seems to convey the message to all who will pay heed, “Do not worry. Everything will be all right.”

The walk down is much easier and quicker. Po Lin Monastery (“Precious Lotus”) is directly opposite a group of gold, green and red structures. I go into the courtyard and give the meal ticket to one of the many women servers behind the counter. She quickly fills a plate with generous portions of a variety of vegetarian food (“jai”) and cakes. My plate contains both bland and sweet varieties and there is more than enough to eat that I can forgo dinner tonight.

On the return trip, I take the #23 bus (fare $16HK) to the Tung Chung MTR Station, from which subway connections can be made to points in Hong Kong or Kowloon.

Big Buddha towering over 300 steps

After a refreshing shower in my room at the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, I make my way downstairs to the Safari Lounge to enjoy happy hour where, with the exception of a few premium brands and drinks, it’s all you can drink at just $88HK and snacks are free. They even throw in a fantastic view of the harbor and Hong Kong skyline through the window at no extra charge.

If You Go
The consensus on the best time to visit Hong Kong seems to be late September through the end of December, with the exception of certain dates in February, when you can partake in very traditional and elaborate Chinese New Year celebrations throughout the city and surrounding areas that run for a full ten days. If you go at any other times, expect to be ready for rainy and very discomforting hot and humid weather that inevitably occurs the rest of the year.

Getting There
There are so many ways. The first time traveler to Hong Kong might consider buying a tour package, inclusive of airfare, hotel room, some meals with a couple of popular local tours thrown in.

Where To Stay
The range of available accommodations is endless. You will expect to pay the most if you stay in “Central” on the Kong Kong side or “Tsim Sha Tsui” on the Kowloon side but both locations are ideal as a base to do your shopping, sightseeing and dining. As for the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers in Tsim Sha Tsui mentioned earlier, I would certainly stay there again.

What To Do
Guidebooks and the local tourism office will give you more things to do and places to go than you will have time for. However, if you happen to be in Hong Kong in February during the time of the annual Hong Kong Salsa Festival, try to make at least one or two events. This is an extravaganza not to be missed, even for the non-dance enthusiast. The promoters put on a 6-day and night affair that is replete with over thirty teams of international performers in salsa and other Latin dances, high level competitions among the best dancers in the world. Guests are treated to the exotic and rhythmic sounds of the Latin beat put out by disc jockeys and bands who are locally famous in Asia, Europe, and North America.For the tourist, the festival’s Duk Ling Ride on a junk gives a panoramic view of Victoria Harbor and Hong Kong’s skyline.

Hong Kong

Arriving in Hong Kong is like stepping into a whirling mass of humanity world and its dynamism is unforgettable. From the moment you arrive at the futuristic and ultra-efficient Chek Lap Kok airport you begin to realise that Hong Kong is a city which is not only geared to making money and looking stylish, it seems to be going about this with a smile on its face.

Until recently a British colony, and indeed many reminders of these previous days remain (including a number of excellent British style pubs), Hong Kong is definitely proud of its Chinese character. You do not have to scratch the surface deeply to see that the culture beneath the glitz is pure Chinese.

Amongst the ‘must sees’ of Hong Kong is the view from Victoria Peak. The classical picture postcard view which more than anything typifies the exuberance and ambition of the island. The general feeling amongst tourists and locals alike is that if you haven’t been to the peak – then you haven’t been to Hong Kong.

Riding the tram up to the peak certainly has to rank amongst one of the most exhilarating, or scary rides, anywhere in the world. Thankfully, helpful staff are on hand to assure you that since it began service about a century ago, there has never been an accident. Climbing over the massed cameras and tripods of what seems like half the population of Asia to watch the sun set tantalisingly over the bay of glittering glass-clad skyscrapers reveals a Hong Kong which very few people could forget.

If this wasn’t romantic enough to melt even the coldest heart, head off towards Aberdeen Harbour, famous for being home to some 6000 people who live and work on the junks which are moored in the harbour. Recently the number of junks has decreased as people gravitate towards the city centre and abandon the traditional way of life but the harbour is still a hive of activity. Aberdeen harbour is still breathtakingly pretty, especially in the late afternoon sun. For a few dollars you can hire a sampan to tour the harbour and end up at one of the three palace-like floating restaurants which are moored in the harbour to dine on exquisitely prepared seafood and Chinese delights, such as marinated duck tongue.

An escape from the frantic pace of Hong Kong Island can be found on one of the 234 outlying islands, many of which are infrequently visited by tourists and therefore offer a glimpse of a more traditional and less hectic way of life. Lantau, which means broken head in Cantonese, is the largest of the islands (142 sq km), has a population of 30,000, a 933m peak, and a 70km walking trail, but has avoided many of the development excesses of other islands. It is home to several important monasteries, including Po Lin Monastery with its enormous bronze Buddha, the largest in Asia. All of these islands are easily reached by either ferry or high speed catamaran. To really escape the crowds you can even stay on the island’s Trappist monastery.

However, most people are attracted to Hong Kong, for shopping. And in Hong Kong you can certainly shop to excess. Hong Kong is a duty free port and “shop till you drop” is the motto of many visitors to the island. The variety of goods is colossal and if you can’t find it in Hong Kong, then it probably doesn’t exist. There are many bargains to be had on locally manufactured products including clothing, footwear and luggage. Don’t forget to check out the many street markets which are dotted about the island. The prices there are typically about a half of what you would pay in the boutiques, and from the throngs of locals which seem to crowd every stall, it seems that the variety is just as good, if not better.

Although Hong Kong is small and crowded the transport system is comprehensive and widely used. The extensive bus system alone offers a bewildering number of routes around the islands, which cover the main tourist routes as well as some of the less visited attractions. Trams are another option for getting around, and the narrow double decker trams which criss-cross the island represent one of the world’s greatest travel bargains. For a flat fare of HK$1.20 you can travel as far as you want, whether it’s one block or the end of the line. Not only is it a great way of seeing the island, travelling during rush hour (which seems to last from 9am till 5pm) is a great way of meeting local people.

Although it will be interesting to watch the changes now that Hong Kong has been returned to China, it is sure that Hong Kong will continue to attract millions of tourists each year who are drawn to the island’s heady mixture of neon lights, duty free shopping and almost intact Chinese tradition and culture.