Ermita: We Came Across a Fork (and Spoon) in the Road

It’s now the end of summer and before we ship out for a job, destination TBA, we are visiting the folks at home, Janice’s home that is. Papa has a cyst the size of his fist on his back, so it’s a bit of a family crisis now. Still we enjoyed a couple of nights visiting the barangay before holing up in Ermita, the tourist ghetto of Manila.

Ermita has turned out to be truly refreshing. We are staying in an old hotel with a friendly lobby. Lots of expats, westerners like me, making trips back and forth to Angeles and Puerto Galera, with their asawas and sometimes their children in tow. The food is good and plentiful.

This is a nice place to finish the summer, despite our quandary. You see, from here we make a critical choice: to take a teaching post in Palestine or to try our luck in China. Will we be on a plane to Qatar or Singapore in the morning?

August 23, 2007

Causeway Bay: There Was a Young Couple Who Lived in a Shoe (box)

We are laying over once again in Hong Kong, taking care of business. The business of finding a full-time teaching job for the academic year has really been what this southeast Asian foray has been about. So far we’ve ruled out the peaceful Islamic empire of Malaysia, the racist overseas Chinese in Singapore, and the military state of Thailand. All had some opportunities, but treat my wife like she’s a bar girl or house cleaner. Malaysia’s got a real problem with fair treatment of women, period. Singapore is truly more racist than the California foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Thailand is an overrated hippy hell-hole. China, despite being communist, has been a good host each time. Hong Kong would be great if we were part of the international banking elite, which we are not. Lest you think that we are rich and ambling about without a plan, read on

Cheapskate travellers in Hong Kong, whether on the Island side or the peninsula of Kowloon, know about mansion living. Mansions are huge labyrinths of tiny shoebox dwellings in high-rise roach towers, to put it mildly. For the price of a Travelodge room in the States, you get an ultra-efficient room that requires feats of contortion and acrobatics just to manage everyday business. I mean everday acts like taking a piss or a shower or even turning on the bloody television set or recharging a cellphone require planning, agility, and a tolerance for spinal compression. If I want to sit on the pot while my wife brushes her teeth, my legs will get wet because the sink is too small for her and my legs have to go somewhere. If I get up in the middle of the night, I have to be extra careful I don’t break her bones as I gingerly pass over her snoozing body. And hell if our towels or sheets ever get washed. We are constantly cooperating to keep things aired out and even have to change clothes one person at a time. If there is a fire in the building, we’re toast. God, I miss building safety codes and other things taken for granted in the good ol’ USA!

This time we chose a shoebox on the Island, so we can handle embassy business at various consulates without wearing out our heels on the MTR subway or sloshing around in ferry boats getting bumped by too many people in too much of a hurry. Causeway Bay, unfortunately, is not as economical as Mong Kok, because it is all about designer label clothing. Ack! It’s more fun to walk toward Wan Chai and imagine the old waterfront of the 1950’s, which has since expanded past Gloucester Road by development. The girly bars and neon signs and cheap eateries make this a real down-to-earth urban zone, away from the hoity-toityness of Central and the mid-Levels. It’s always the case, in my travels, that the red-light districts are where the real people hang out.

We were fortunate to have a lunch with my former Cantonese teacher, Hazel, and to say hello to Ricky, the elder tattoo master at Pinky’s Tattoo in Wan Chai. Ricky is the one who fixed my first misfit tattoo in 2005, and now he has me tempted to add a phoenix to my arm, for the price of a 10-megapixel digital camera. I told him maybe when we pass through again in the wintertime, after I earn some money teaching somewhere. We exhanged a few nice words, said “joi gin” and I know I’ll see him again. Good man, Ricky. Has decorated many a Triad in his day, and quite a few sailors and other derelict English teachers, I’m sure.

In some ways this adventure has reached it’s most stressful point. We need positive cash flow, and we need to get out of this expensive city or wind up homeless. My back is killing me from being sandwiched between two walls at a distance shorter than my frame. Janice sees homeless people on the street and worries that we’re gonna be with them soon, me playing the erhu while she passes around a coffee can for change. I tell her not to worry; I will provide. Inside I’m scared, but I can’t reveal this or she won’t sleep well. This is truly rough.

August 13, 2007

Mongkok: Our First Shoebox

Back in Hong Kong, our favorite city outside of our own countries! More correctly, we are in the continental peninsular part of HK called Kowloon (9 Dragons). Last winter, we escorted my mom though many shopping districts here, from our base in Tsim Tsa Tshui; this time we are camped slightly north where less tourists live and throngs of locals come to shop.

Saw Die Hard 4.0 in Langham Place, after riding an escalator at least 4 stories high. Haggled for a new 802.11 card at the Mong Kok Computer Centre. Ate pork cheeks, fried fish skins, oysters congee, curry pies, and other local cheap eats. Explored the upstairs mystery shops in some of the electronics markets; found a few quality adult DVDs for our eyes only.

We were here for business, though: to find a job for the coming academic year. Talked with a recruiter about teaching in primary school; she quickly left for The Mainland and never followed up in email. Helped Janice start her own MySpace and Friendster pages. 24-hour wireless internet access is awesome!

August 8, 2007

Zhuhai: Land of English Schools From Hell

Zhuhai is a Special Economic Zone in China, behind the old Portuguese city of Macau. We are cooling our heels here while figuring out what to do next.

The bus ride here took us through the south side of the Pearl River Delta, where we saw more agriculture and less empty condo-building. Lots of fish ponds are extant, but Janice says they look uninspected and unregulated. She worked in such environments in her undergrad years at Mindanao State Unversity, where she was a marine sciences major, so I believe she knows what she’s talking about.

After checking in to our hotel, we allowed ourself to be fleeced by a taxi driver just to satisfy a KFC craving (everywhere we go the local fried chicken just doesn’t compare to the Colonel’s!). Then we supplied at the Jesco department store, had an ice cream on the street, and retired to our quarters for a long deserved holiday. Janice practiced her Hanzi (Chinese character writing) to augment her Mandarin language acquisition of the last 3 weeks.

On day two we slept in late, walked along the waterfront and then back to the Jusco department store for a McDonald’s lunch and to find some gifts for Ashley, my step-daughter in the Philippines. Had fun browsing in another upstairs stall in a computer mart for my slightly older godson (Lawrence, aka Little Lulu) in Texas. With my limited Chinese, I asked the proprietor something like “have no clothes kind of DVD you have not have?” Dang if we didn’t find a secret cardboard box with the most hardcore pirated skin flicks on earth. Little Lulu’d better hope our Filipino cousins don’t steal them first!

I’m reflecting on the role of social interaction in language acquisition, and how some of my informal techniques at the last summer school may have helped some kids out. They at least know more than the average KFC worker, who says “good morning” to foreigners no matter what time of day. If I return to primary education in China, I’d like to do some research in this area.

August 6, 2007