Eating Healthy with Emily

That’s Hong Kong, no. 1

Ξ August 6th, 2009 | → 1 Comments | ∇ Hong Kong, That's Hong Kong |

I’m instituting a feature tonight called “That’s Hong Kong.” You might’ve gleaned from my numbering this post that I will continue these quick takes on life in the Kong. That is my brilliant plan.

No. 1

Building security guards. Today I speak of the men who man posts in my office building. After about 8 p.m., they rope off the Office Lift Lobby, directing traffic past a desk with “IN” and “OUT” card sensors. When I approach the desk from either direction, I’m half-heartedly greeted and directed by way of an extended arm to please scan my green building card. Then I’m thanked. If I forget my card, I have to show ID and they write down my information on a pad that’s kept covered at all times “to protect the identity of building occupants.”

There are always at least two men behind the desk, sometimes as many as five standing around. Greeting, directing, thanking. I don’t quite know which one to address so I try to make a quick sweep of all of them, greeting, swiping, thanking. I get a mixture of “hello, lei ho, thank you, mmgoi, ok, byebye.”

A handful of times I’ve rounded the corner after 2a.m. to find both of them asleep. Once I snuck by without waking them, but usually I swipe my card, it beeps and they jump. Revenge is mine!

I don’t mind the routine. Some people do. Sure, it’s a tad excessive. It’s a bit of a pain when I forget my ID (which happens a few times a month). I would prefer to leave the office and walk home without having to greet, swipe, thank two more people.

But, that’s Hong Kong.

The observatory that cried “wolf!”

Ξ August 5th, 2009 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Hong Kong |

There’s a T8 typhoon signal hoisted right now in the Kong. Ole Goni’s upon us. And get this: I just walked home from work, through the always dangerous mist. A warm-ish wind ripped between the buildings along the east-west walkway … wait, no wind. T8 hoisted. Not even a breeze. Hey, what gives? And will I ever stop getting excited at the idea of braving a ridiculous, thrashing, walk-through-me-and-feel-the-pain storm of storms? I suppose the wind must be stronger out over the ocean. The storm could’ve changed course, or maybe it was more intense while I was plodding through stories about Bill Clinton and tiny fish that could help save my hearing one day. Fish!

Speaking of, I bet fish have it a lot worse than I do. Think about it — they’re swimming around in the world’s biggest toilet when a typhoon comes along and pulls the flusher. But the ocean can’t flush, can it? So it stirs. That’s gross.

Have a nice day.