Well, as if I wasn't excited to be home enough, there was a large earthquake in Taiwan this week and it severed the underwater cables that carry the internet to Hong Kong.
Glad I missed the rollin' n' tumblin.
Connected. It's a good thing.
This will be my shuttle home for the second leg, Seoul to Dallas.
HL7531, a Boeing 777
Sorry...that was pretty lame.
Well, we arrived at 4.55am local time and I headed for whatever was open. They have a Transfer Lounge for those making...well, transfers. They rent out rooms for 6 hours at a time, and I have 7...I could see this working.
But all the cheap rooms were sold out so I sold out. Headed to the gate. Slept for three hours on the seats here until the Filipino Rudeness Tour Group showed up. Having loud music in your car is one thing...thumping down the road as you drive, trying to make a statement (which usually is HEY EVERYONE I AM AN ASS!). But, in an airport terminal playing the dang MP3's at high volume on speakerphone while 10 people around you are sleeping at 5am is just wrong. And, you deserve to be shot.
Ok. Maybe a little extreme,...but,only just a little. Back me up here Chad.
After my rude awakening, I went to the restaurant that Clayton, Frankenfield, Sean Kerr, Leah, Scott and I ate at on my first trip to Korea. I had an American Breakfast with some poor excuse for bacon, two fried eggs (no choice to how they were cooked...almost well done, my least favorite) and a cup of coffee. But, there were three other things on my plate that weren't so "American" that I would pair them with the title "American Breakfast." Kimchee, which I love...pickled cabbage with hot pepper paste, a root of some kind-probably a palate cleanser, and...New England Clam Chowder.
Weird. Not right or wrong but, just different.
Never in my life would I imagine myself enjoying a meal pairing coffee and clam chowder.
I digress.
This airport rocks...free wi-fi.
I just got off the phone with Cheryl, and Dad, and Jo Anna. I am sitting at the gate and this is the very beast about to bring me to Seoul for a super early in the morning arrival.
Mayhaps they'll have free wi-fi too...and I can update again.
Cheers!
The 24 hour trip home begins at almost 1am my time, and concludes 10am Dallas time.
Here goes the longest December 21st I've ever had!
Hong Kong to Seoul, Seoul to Dallas. If you want to track the flight, click on the leg you want to see, after 12.40pm EST
I can be pretty emotional sometimes.
Earlier this year, I was kicked in the face by how many weddings I was honored to be a part of. There were plenty of others who deserved the humbling honor of standing with these men as they made their vows. Supporting these men, as they take on the most privileged and sobering reality of leading and nurturing a family as a husband. And, being up there, I was also making a commitment to their wives. I was stating with my participation that I would ask these men the tough questions about their husbandry for the rest of my life and theirs, to make sure these guys are doing their jobs.
The weddings were all in a span of a few weeks, and they all were just as I was trying to figure things out for this little adventure I am on right now. Sorry to say I didn't give them the 'once in a lifetime' attention that they deserved...I was a little preoccupied and selfish. Sorry to those guys if I came across distracted.
BUT...the reasons I am telling you this is not that I suck...we know I do! But, I am getting to the point. Being the Best Man signs you up to pick these newlyweds up from the airport after the honeymoon too! I had this opportunity twice.
While sitting and waiting at the International Arrivals terminal at DFW, I noticed something. I was getting emotional. I was choking up at the people meeting people. Homecomings, reunions, first time to see baby, funerals, vacations...all in one place.
Maybe that's why I like aviation so much. The romance of it. I think of my grandfather who was stationed in England during WWII. I think of him coming home...and basically moving into my Great Grandmother's house, taking over my grandmother's room and basically kicking her out of her own room! (his house was only 15 minutes away). But, I think he did it because he loved my grandmother. Maybe in a way that we as onlookers may never comprehend. His way.
I think of a time when people actually dressed up to fly. When flying was an adventure, something unfamiliar. Something...that was...well...exciting!
Tomorrow I leave to come home for the holidays. For the first time, there is someone other than my family who longs to see me. For the first time I am anxious to see those International Arrival doors open and I have no idea how I will react. But, I like to think this holiday movie says all of the above and then some...
Tonight I will go home and do my last load of laundry before heading home. Tomorrow after school, I will pack, grab my things and have them ready by the door for Wednesday morning.
Christmas parties at school, trip to the bank, and I am on my way.
Been waiting to post this...
It's cold. And it's wet.
And I live and work in a solid concrete building. It's only 63 outside...might be 58 inside. There are so few cold days here that none of the homes have heating. At best you get an electric heater on wheels.
Oh...and all my cold weather clothes are...in Dallas.
Four more days and I'll be heading home to be with them.
(editor's note): in response to Jo Anna's posted comment...here are my guesses:
1. those crazy good saltine cracker candy deals
2. hummus
Yesterday I had a great day.
I left school and decided to take out my frustrations by walking through the wet market. A wet market is where they have meat, veggies, live chickens, live fish...stuff like that...oh and tons of people trying to get the best price and the best quality usually in high volume yelling.
Imagine the floor of the stock exchange, add in the 80's craze of mothers buying Cabbage Patch Kids, and throw them both into a kind of a farmers market but with live stuff too. And...anything you want is butchered (prepared) to order and usually every estate (bunch of buildings built by one developer) has one.
So there is this one stall that has chickens that I walk by a lot. I always take a peek every time I go there. I have been really wanting to see what I assume happens to those chickens.
I have never seen the actual process of chicken harvesting. Between seeing all those overstuffed Pilgrim's Pride Chicken trucks heading down the Interstate in Texas, and only ever seeing chicken come in plastic wrapped Styrofoam trays...I was very curious.
My mother told me once of her mother...or maybe grandmother, cutting the head off of the chickens and throwing them out the back door to, well, run around like a chicken with it's head cut off, until they were expired. Then, a little de-feathering and cooking up some tasty vittles.
This seems to gross us out these days. This is how it is done around the world and yet we are so squeemish about it.
I finally got my chance! And it was interesting. If you want to know how it happens, just email me, I will be glad to share.
From there I headed out to get some sushi...thought of my sister a lot! Had a great meal. By the time the day was over I saw little octopus...octopi if you will, a chicken get whacked, fish gutted, pig faces and other parts.
It was neat.
Tis the best time o the year!
And this made me laugh even more...
"Tis the season to be Merry." "Mary? That's my name!" "No..."
All these years I thought she was just trying to promote ease of life...turns out she has been trying to kill you with Diabetes.
This city…
this city…unfurls. I guess it’s like a flower. But it’s not…you don’t have to catch it at the right time…you know…during the right elements to see it’s real beauty. It just is.
At each turn rests what seems to be like a picture…ripped out of some magazine by a reader who decides someday…someday, he will see that in person. It’s Asia…It’s the Orient…it’s the Far East. It’s Hong Kong.
It’s my home right now. And though it lacks the people I love, it is home to me. Routines are developed. Daily rituals take place, and I wave at the same neighbors each morning. I smile at the Patriarch of the family (there are 10 children and grandchildren with him) and we smile nervously at the bus stop hoping the other doesn’t start talking because we don’t understand each other. But we smile. And…we laugh at each other…together. These are people I call my friends. These are the little things that make my day feel grounded.
Almost 15 years ago I had a similar entry that I wrote to my grandmother in a letter. Another different far country…but, still yet the same description. If I remember it right, it said something like this, “Grandma, it’s like a picture out of TIME magazine here. Just so vivid…and surreal.”
While I was remembering this, it dawned on me that as one of the students was saying my name from down the hallway at school, that it is very likely that the only time my family’s name has ever been used in this part of the world...has been with the arrival of these two feet.
Dad did some business in Japan…so I can’t take that away from him…he gets Japan. Probably the only time the words, “Biggey Al” were ever said over there. So, while he and I walked the same halls of the same airport ten years apart, I’ll take China, South Korea, and Hong Kong…and if all goes well, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, and maybe The Philippines. At least I am not competitive. (and I’m about to get to a Lawry’s he hadn’t gotten to yet….YES!)
But the idea of the feet are something I cannot get past. There is a passage of Scripture that says, “How beautiful are the feet that bring good news.” Well, the downside of that is that they also bring Mad Cow disease and others, so…wash your shoes people! But the idea that when I land in Dallas on the 21st, the dirt on the edges will be from Hong Kong. Half-way around the world from you, dear reader.
Where was I…ahh yes, the beauty that is my current home. I decided to walk to the grocery store today and these are the things that inspired me as I walked. Mountains, Valleys, Trees, Sailboats, it was a long walk. But, I also saw tons of butterflies and one lizard. By the way…they look too much like snakes…they should all die…just for that reason.
What just happened?
Today is Mom's Birthday and she hates when we spend money on her. So it kind of makes it tough when getting her things. But this year she wants to be pampered! I had video footage and was ready to get more of the kids singing to Mom like we did for Dad's birthday, but with MAC getting a check up, that's now not happening.
So, from Asia, Mom...here's your birthday gift:
You will be spending the afternoon being pampered at a certain spa, recieving the full treatment of relaxation and massage. You will be receiving lunch while out about the town and even a final home cooked meal by your two favorite men...and a certain special lady to one of them.
Until I get to be a part of that in three weeks though,
Mom, you are amazing. You are patient, loving and committed to your family. You light up when we walk in the room. You consistently love on us and want the best for us and you feed us so well! You inspire creativity and frugality (although we seldom are as good as you...hee hee) and, you taught us. I remember daily something that you gave to me as a child in the form of knowledge or experience. And, much like I said to Dad on his birthday, it would take my entire life to even attempt at showing you how much I appreciate all you have done for me and Jo Anna and the two other parts of our family...the fuzzballs. You have nurtered us well and we honor you today.
NOW ACCEPT MY GIFT WITHOUT ANY COMPLAING AND BE THE DAMN PRINCESS!
My friends.
I cannot believe I am writing this in the public forum. But, as I have been so honest with you before, I will take myself to a new level of honesty with you.
I have done something terrible today and must get it off my chest and face the consequences, no matter how terrible they are. Today will forever live in my memory as a terrible day. My memories will recall this day with a cringe and a shudder.
It all begins when...
I...I...lost my...um...MAC.
He went into cardiac arrest, (shut down) and refused to come out of it (reboot). We thought we had him back, but then he showed signs of being in a coma for awhile (safety mode to prevent any damage). He is stable and we have received the Doctor's (technician) gaurantee that he will fully recover (warrantee). The only hiccup we face is bringing him back may take awhile (jackass left his restore cd in the states). We will know more tonight (after I take it in for service).
Following this random, and not oft MAC related hiccup, I find myself instead of stopping all blogging matters in light of the emergency, I have been forced to neglect my friend and move on...to...a...Windows based...PC! AAAAGGGGHHHH! You use a PC...you love a MAC.
The Insanity. Susan Powter where are you!
But, my MAC has served me faithfully and I will never abandon him. He is my consistent friend. While others stand by steaming over the fact that their PC has crashed yet again, and recount tearfully how many hours were wasted because of a blue-screen of death, and how many minutes go by while it tries to catch up, and how many right clicks it takes to restore and reset all of their connections...me and my MAC just cruised on by while their hours and minutes and clicks fell by the wayside into complete wasteland.Seems like all of that work we were able to do caused him a needed vacation.
I havn't shut down my MAC in months. I pack him up, take him everywhere. I watch him, listen to him, talk at him, and even spend hours doing nothing but hanging with him. Seems he was tired.
Seems that if only I had my cd, he would would already be back in business and moving down the road to progress. If only. I say rest on friend. We shall see if we can get you something tonight. Until then, you have been my workhorse. Even if you are down until I get back to the states, we will still have been more productive and joyful than all the hours combined waiting for the PC world to catch up.
This post was written on a...PC...and I am COMPLETELY ASHAMED.
Bring on the consequences. And can you send me my cd please.
*sniffle...tear*
MORAL OF THE STORY...take your software CDs with you when you travel, especially overseas.
That's right, I'm movin' on up in the world today...at least it would seem to them.
Today is moving day, (we only found out Thursday night) and as I write I am sitting with my things all packed up behind me. Who knows if the internet connection is has been installed, who knows what we will find. Seems like things are a little out of control and confusing for the Admin here right now. My soon to be roommates are pretty frustrated. There are a lot of unanswered questions as to what is actually ready out at the new place, but hey, whatever. All I know is that my morning commute is changing from 3 minutes to 39. And, now I have bus fare and MTR fare if I go that route. If I go taxi...who knows. Ought to be a fun week of new mistakes!
Ahh the learning curve!
Today is Thanksgiving back in the States. Sad day here in Hong Kong.
I miss Turkey, the smell, the anticipation. In the morning we inject that timely bird. Mid day we deep fry that sucker. Shortly after. We pounce.
No turkey. No traveling to see family. No deep fried Cajun Turkeys anywhere that I have found. But, I will honor you oh Holiday of Thanks, with a ceremonious nap after school today!
Without Thanksgiving in the way, the merchants here in Hong Kong get a full two months of shopping before the Big Rest after Christmas. You know the one between Christmas and New Years! Then those sales kick in. The decorations have been up for weeks now and the tree is already lit in Central. "She's a bute Clark."
Well, in my efforts to keep up I began listening to the holiday tunes I have and came across this online today...it makes me happy.
But, perhaps this year I will celebrate with Peking Duck instead of Turkey. Equally delicious, worse for you, but oh so dang good! Happy Turkey day my friends!
By the way, Melinda Dillon's laugh during this clip is second only to this one:
Some days I wander the streets and pathways of the Choi Ming and Kin Ming Estates where I live, and I see these faces that I wonder about.
I see families. I see Buddhist monks, I see students, and I see Muslims in their evening clothes. I think to myself, are those their pajamas?...their house clothes?...their worship clothes? Then I realize I am an ass!
(click photo to enlarge)
I notice that the place I currently live is probably the working class area. Across the street the more polished people, and across the tunnel even more shiny people. Believe me it is not that I think the working class dull, they actually seem to have more fun...at least more of an actual living, breathing life.
I know no Muslims. Chances are you do not either. I don't mean that you never say hello to any or that you don't work or go to school with any,...I mean, "KNOW." Have dinner with them at their home, share a ride with them, attend their birthday or other kind of parties. And, I am willing to guess you have no idea how this feels.
HANG WITH ME HERE
I have to be honest...I am ashamed of myself at this point. I knew the minute that this article posted why they were arrested. Incidentally it had 200 comments to the others very few at the site I read about it at. Check it out here: 6 MEN ARRESTED AT MSP
I am mostly ashamed that in America, the home of the free, we are so shackled into our self-patriotic ideas that we have no idea what other "religions" do. When you hear AMERICAN do you think of white, middle class, born here, two jobs, two cars, a few kids, and a nice home?...I did. Again, ashamed.
I mean soapbox for a second here...We say that people who are Christians are 'Religious.' People that are Jewish are called "Jewish" and if we are angry at them Muslims are called "Terrorists" but most of the time, "Muslims." Every-day speak.
If the definition of "Religion" and people who follow that 'religion' are 'religious', then all of them are the same. All follow a "system of belief", a system of living,so to speak. All practice rituals of the so-called system, therefore all are 'religious.' Please be careful how you use this term. It can be insulting to be called religious. Truth is friend, that if you do any one thing every day...like brush your teeth every morning...that you are by definition "Religious."
But, we have this idea in our heads that all are something. All can be classified. Around our house we joked as I entered College that we were looking for a scholarship called "The Half-Italian, Lived in Brasil for a year, Brown haired guy who used to live in New Jersey but now lives in Texas Scholarship." You have to be something to be anything it seems.
I am offended by those like me. I am offended by those who make jokes about these people who have come to our country and legally have joined our communities. I have joined in the stereotyping too. And I hate that. And, I will again I am sure...mostly out of routine and the stupid feeling of always needing to make someone laugh.
STILL WITH ME?...IT CONNECTS, I SWEAR
Immigration is something that in Texas is something that is talked about a lot. We have a lot of Mexicans. They do not want to be called Spanish Speaking, Hispanic, or anything other than Mexicans. Well the table has turned and I am the immigrant. I would love to someday have a Permanent Resident's card for some other country. Not saying it will happen but the idea is quite intriguing to me. To live somewhere long enough to be called a Permanent Resident. To be welcomed and a card carrying person of Hong Kong. I like the sound of that.
But, the way the two things connect is that I am the one who sees potential for myself and dreams of life with my family here. Beginning new traditions and celebrating the old ones. I am the one who is drawn here by what it has to offer me. I am the one who desires to be here. I am the one who thinks every now and then, what is the fastest way this can happen?
Again, it is very much just a thought. And perhaps its thought for a thoughts sake...to get me to think. But I empathize more now with those from other countries and backgrounds in the U.S. Wouldn't it be amazing if we cared so much about our country and it's people that we took it as our patriotic duty to welcome our neighbors by learning about them and their "religious" activities. A man can dream right?
BUT...WHAT ABOUT...
My Northeastern friends may say yeah, but their people flew planes into my buildings and my friends died.
Noted.
Recently Pope Benedict, who has a reputation of conservative and deep theological thought, wrote in his book SALT OF THE EARTH the following...
"...we must recognize that Islam is not a uniform thing No one can speak for [it] as a whole. There is a noble Islam, embodied, for example, by the King of Morocco, and there is also the extremist terrorist Islam, for which, again, one must not identify with Islam as a whole, which would do it an injustice."
Interesting.
Being on the other side of the world, in a city that receives flights direct from the middle east frequently throughout the day, allows me to be challenged to not be the theological know-it-all who thinks he knows everything cause he has a Degree or Masters of Divinity, or Ph.D. The guy who says, "Yay for me, I went to Seminary," or "I know Greek and Hebrew." You know, that guy who so pompously is so convinced that he has looked at the issue from every angle. To think in my short amount of years I have most of this figured out. (My blood pressure is going up as I type this).
AND THEN THERE'S THIS
I really appreciate what my Pastor has said in a talk he shared with us:
"I've gotta tell y'all, When I entered the ministry 28 years ago, I was a lot smarter than I am now. Man I knew so much more. For certain, than I know now. And I've been a youth pastor, I'd been to four years of seminary, I'd written Exegetical papers, I read boucous of books and I had opinions about everything. I knew stuff. Knew for certain stuff. I thought I knew what caused homosexuality and how it could be cured, and I would have told you how. I thought I understood God's whole mind and heart about marriage and divorce and remarriage. And I had papers written where I could show you what was right. I thought I knew all about how women were supposed to function in the church and their role in ministry and what they could and couldn't do. I had opinions on how to change our culture, what the church should look like, how people should worship, what people should believe about how to dress in church...I used to wear three piece suits back in those days! What movies we ought to see, what TV shows we ought to watch, what political stripe we ought to wear. I had opinions about earrings and tattoos and I could prove to you from Scripture. And I knew exactly what was going to happen at the end of time...because?...I made a chart! Still have it! You want to know?...I knew. I gotta tell you 28 years of ministry kind of mitigates, a lot of certainty about a lot of things. And I have discovered on this journey of faith, that while certainty about some things that may be more superficial fades, certainty about what is fundamental grows. And I stand before you today as one who is a lot more humble. I am much more willing to say, "I don't think I know." But at the same time I stand before you as one who is more convinced than ever that...God is alive...Jesus is His Son...the Scriptures are true...and the key to life is following Him. There's a lot of things that I am not so sure about anymore. Not because I don't believe I can have a Biblical conviction about it. It's just that I've been humbled by recognizing that the Scripture is complex, and it has nuance, and it has different approaches and angles. And I must be ever about the journey of going deeper into the Word and being led by the Spirit to truly understand it. To have convictions about what is true, but to be willing to say when I am not exactly sure or certain, "I don't think I know!"
Now, that man...He is a shepherding Pastor. Interestingly enough...he is the pastor to the President of Dallas Seminary. Many of our elders and lay leaders are DTS profs. Many of our members are Seminary students.
I really hope they were listening that day.
This weekend's guests were not as culinary adventurous as I thought they would be. Marc did well, and tried real hard, but they really weren't here for a visit, they were here with a job to do and in a short time.
One of our meals that stands out was a breakfast where Pick and I were the only ones to head out that morning. Pick is a super cool guy and an excellent cameraman. We went to a local place here in the area I live in and received extra special treatment. At first I thought that at one look at our sizes the cashiers thought, "Wow, these guys are going to eat a lot and we are going to make lots of money!"
But, as is normal here, I was humbled by their extension of hospitality. This restaurant is a place where you order and pay at the front, then get in line by the kitchen to pick up your tray that coordinates with the number on your receipt. It's quick. It's cheap. It's good.
Instead of getting in line and waiting for our trays, then carrying our hot food to find a table in an often crowded dining room, we were seated by the cashier and told to wait. She personally went and waited in the queue, fetched our trays, and then brought them to us. Dynamic service and it felt very good to be the foreigner!
Johnny Cash has a new album. Here is one of the most intriguing pieces of art I have ever seen.
I was moved...In Asia. (*wink)
My thoughts so far:
"HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM"
"I WANT TO THANK MY PARENTS FOR THE DRUM SET THEY GAVE ME AS A KID, WITHOUT THEM I WOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO WIN THIS MTV AWARD"
"JO ANNA!!!! GET HIM OFF THOSE DRUMS"
"KEVIN...GET OFF THOSE DRUMS"
Some friends from home came to Hong Kong tonight. They are filming video for a conference called FUSION. You should check out the website www.fusionconferences.com and their parent site, rightnow.org.
I have been able to be a part of both of the groups projects and can easily say that without a doubt, some of the finest people around.
Today they played messenger. They brought a care package from Cheryl. It sure was amazing to see her handwriting again. I realized that no matter how much we talk or see someone's face, there is nothing like their handwriting. Letters mean so much. Someone sat down and puts effort into it in a way that an email can't show. Video on the internet can't communicate like a written letter either. It's much more special.
Included with this letter was the modern version of a mix-tape...and seriously...what can say it better than tunes? She is amazingly thoughtful.
It doesn't stop there.
There were my favorite Little Debbie Cosmic Brownies, and homemade cookie bars. But there was also something else. Cadbury chocolate dipped sticks. I think I mentioned once that I liked those.
She amazes me. Her thoughtfulness and depth of caring humbles me...and it makes me smile!
And, no matter how many times and ways I try to explain to you in blog posts, I will never be able to describe how amazing this girl is. So, sorry if these are redundant. But, if you have ever felt like this, I hope it reminds you of how special your lady or man is to you.
So go tell them. Just try, and when you can't find the words...just tell them that.
Cheryl, I cannot find the words.
EDITORS NOTE: since it has been a week since the last post, I combined two of them for your reading leisure. END OF EDITORS NOTE.
Signed,
The Editor
::
The thing about seasons is that they help you determine.
You determine your outerwear...and, in some parts of the world, your underwear by the seasons. You can determine the difference in the season by just looking at your electric bill, your check book, your laundry pile.
My laundry pile is showing a change of season. But, I am talking about a different kind of laundry here. I am talking about the laundry that needs airing out...the dirt in the wrinkle of the laundry of our everyday. Our lives. My life. For me, as a follower of Christ, it is things impure, things that are not what God has offered us. Things that I have taken grasp of by myself...while thinking they are the best for me. No, I am not going to be making any major public confessions, other than this...I am an f-ed up individual...and I am okay with it. That is what grace will do for you. Give you the strength to admit it and yet still find peace about it. In this season, the message of Jesus is quite clear yet again...by giving it up, you gain it all. And, I feel like I have.
This morning I was walking to campus after stopping off for milk-tea and there is a two tier escalator I take to get there. By the way, escalators are everywhere here. In fact the longest in the world is here...it’s in a part of town called the Mid-levels. I digress.
The seminal thought this morning however is how it amazes me that as a foreigner, I “get” escalator etiquette far quicker than locals and young people...at least it seems. The escalator playing the subject of my morning light-bulb moment handles all the traffic between the huge apartment complexes and the MTR station near where I currently live. All sidewalks converge here for those who live on the upper level of the Estate trying to go lower, and the many students who’s schools are in the upper. At 8.05-8.15 the escalator is quite busy. Peak time if you will.
Hong Kong is packed. More than NYC. In fact, I laugh at NYC sidewalks now. “UNLIMITED COSMIC POWERS...little bitty living space.” (Aladdin, for those who can’t remember). Imagine the arrivals hall of Grand Central Station in between the Subway Station at 5.30pm absolutely everywhere you go. The worst part of it is the total chaos that it can be. People walk on both sides of the walkways in both directions. It is like your own personal game of Frogger. And no one knows how to be courteous..at least when walking. People cut in line if there is enough space to jam a foot between them an another person.
Get the point?
So I am on this two tier escalator packed full of folks, holding a cup of steaming milk-tea. We are heading up to the second tier and then it begins...the shift.
We go from traveling at a nice speed, you know, normal escalator pace...and as we get to the top, the back up begins. I see the crowd as I crest the top of the escalator hill..what ever that thing is called...we’ll go with dismount. I am trying to figure out what the hold up is. It is nothing. It is people. Everyone crams two side by side when they get onto the escalator but, fail to have the insight to remember that when we get to the dismount at mid level of the two tiers, we are dumped onto an area about 5 feet deep to catch the ride to the second level...and we keep on coming, and so do the people behind us.
Before getting on the first level, I was cut off by a teenage girl that I wanted to slap for being so pushy and rude and selfish. Bad words were said in my mind. I cooled off on the ride up...only to get to the cram fest at the middle platform. Steaming hot milk-tea still in tact. It was like an assembly line of idiots all backing up and Lucy and Ethel were running out of room for all of us ‘candy.’
We are all crammed together tighter than Ross Geller in leather pants.
I walked away from the experience frustrated. Then, another teenager decided that she and her friends were going to yell at each other...while laughing...in that high-pitch puberty tone that would irritate Mother Theresa...with food in her mouth...for like two minutes. Blood pressure rising...culture stress kicking in.
Culture Stress is one step away from culture shock...the other way. It is after culture shock, but before integration. It can get the best of me sometimes and I just want to yell, “Hey idiots...get a clue. This is supposed to be one of the busiest places in the world...whatever happened to that? Walk faster...on the left, like you drive!”
They just do things differently here. And, I am the one who needs to be patient and see it all as part of this adventure. I am actually getting pretty used to it and have adopted some of the local ways. God help me when I get back to Dallas!
But the point is that I am the one swimming upstream. I am the one who is different. I am the one in rebellion to the ways of Hong Kong. And the worst part is that these are the some of the most caring and sensitive people I have ever met.
Humbled yet again.
November 5th, three years ago was one of the most bittersweet days of my life.
The silver lining...this little guy. I remember seeing that little dude sitting in that little clear plastic baby...um...thing...I don't even know what to call it. But it is that Tupperware looking thing they put babies in the nursery at the hospital.
My family and Kevin's mom had gotten to the hospital in the late afternoon awaiting news of any kind. We let someone know we were there to see my sister, assuming she was still in a room waiting for something to go down...literally. HAHAHAHA sorry about that one. Anywho the bonehead nurse knew she was in the process of getting out this large watermelon of a person and asked if she wanted to see us. Of course the answer was No. Kind of a dumb question.
Well, we heard nothing and I of course cannot stand still and wait for anything, so I paced. I found a window to some room not associated with patient rooms. The blinds were closed. I found a way to peek in anyway. There is a little slit where the strings run through on the blinds...I just peeked through there. Hey, I just really wanted to see in the window!
Then, I saw a baby placed into one of the bins. Couldn't tell at first what it was. But then I peeked to the nametag. I saw a blurry name that had the blurred shape of a capital 'P' and then a tall letter of some kind right where a 't' would be in Pintar, my brother-in-laws family name. Same amount of characters. I peeked closer and sure enough, it said 'Pintar'. BAM! We had BABY!
Then, I find out his name is Michael. Yikes. Too much of a good thing.
He is three today. THREE! Yikes. He will be spoiled more than normal by all the people that love him for no other reason than he exists, but will be celebrated for who he is and is becoming, making us love him more and more each day. Especially his little personality, the way he can look like an angel at one glance and a devil at another...after all his name is Michael. We are famous for being little devils!
Happy Birthday Dude!
Love, Unckle Michael from around tha wirld
I no longer have to wonder what Jeff is up to.
We have reconnected over the last few days and it really is a freaking cool thing. I searched for him on the internet and could not find a thing. I did find a lot of stuff on his older brother and found out he has become quite the producer.
I began my search like anyone does...I Googled him. I found out nothing doing a search with all kinds of search criteria. Nothing.
Finally, I just searched pictures. BAM!, there he and his wife were. So now I know he is married. I click on the picture and it gives the email of the lady who married them and her website. I email her telling her I am looking to get in contact with him and she CC"s the email to Jeff's wife. And, you can guess how it went from there.
Been a really cool part of this week!
Growing up there was this thing called Mischief Night on the eve of halloween. Punk kids went out and did things. Wrapped some houses in tp, shaving creamed a few cars, chalked the streets. Nothing too serious, at least for my friends and neighborhood hoodlums.
One year my parents were out of town, and we had recently made a visit to The Price Club...before Sam's or Costco were big. Grandma was staying with us and it was everything I could do to lie to her and get out that night. It was a rough stay that year from Grandma. I was a punk to her. But I grabbed the tp and headed out with Jeff Ciardi...wish I knew what he was doing these days...anyway, we headed down to the Quick Check along the way throwing one roll of tp. Yeah, one roll. Cause you know, we knew that no one would notice it missing. If I remember Jeff was a little more excited about doing some damage than I was but still...we were not punks and didn't have it in us.
Wusses.
Anyway, today is a national holiday. I am off of school today and spending time catching up and trying to get a little ahead too. Turns out that we have 17 Public holidays a year. I like Hong Kong...a lot.
The name of today's festival is the Chung Yeung Festival, and it is slightly in line with the other end of October festivals centered around dead people. If you click the highlighted link above, then it will take you to to an excellent blog entry here in HK about the festival, and there will be another linked word in Orange. Click that for an explanation of the festival...or 'Holiday' for those stuck in Western thinking.
Happy Chung Yeung!
So...you've seen the new place. You have a place to stay. Just flight costs...and incidentals.
It begs the question...
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR???
WHEN ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE A PLACE TO STAY AND A TOUR GUIDE TO SEE HONG KONG AND CHINA!!!
The first guest arrives on the 11th! Bring it on Marc!
Turns out the Hong Kong Smile Ambassador is going to be my neighbor.
Jackie Chan is rumored ( I was told by my principal that he was ) to live near by my new place. The new digs will be in a place called Clear Water Bay, a very beautiful place in Hong Kong. There is a movie studio nearby and supposedly quite a few movie stars live nearby...of course HongKong movie stars...that I will never...ever...ever ever ever recognize.
Earlier this week, the other teachers that will live there and I all went to visit the house to see its progress. They are remodeling a three story home with 7 rooms and one heck of a view from the roof, which counts as a great party deck...and laundry facility!
The location is beautiful, and perhaps the best part and something I am very excited about...very near to an exclusive Country Club, of which I was told I should get to play due to my principals connections.
Here are a few shots of this amazing place... The beach is just below our house...hee hee hee. Suffering over here, really, I am.
First, a panoramic view from the roof...hey, i did the best i could. (this was before I knew there was a panoramic setting on the camera...shut up)
This is the outside of our house, and the bottom room on the left is mine. No balcony or view for me, cause I am the only dude, and must play door man. Booooo! All I know is I plan on being on the rooftop a lot.
This is the view from the rooftop looking down toward the beach. To be specific, Clear Water Bay Beach 2. Beach 1 is right below us.
Here is a peek from CWB 2 looking up toward the house
Here is another view from the beach towards the house. That's our hood up in the lush trees!
This is a closer image I took from the road that leads to the beachfront. Ours is directly behind the white house. The buildings share a wall.
This is a shot from the beach looking out over the bay and onto the golf course. It jetts out into the ocean and has palm trees lining the fairway.
Ahhhh...that water feels REAL dang good. It was 89 today and the water was beautiful!
If you want to see these locations on Google Earth, just leave a comment or email me and I will send them to you!
So maybe this isn't so Asian...but I am here...and she is there.
This little girl that I met a few weeks before leaving has 'gotten under my skin' as Ol' Blue Eyes sang.
She sneaks into my day in random ways, like a sneak attack from the tickle monster when you are a little kid. Out of nowhere...and you are glad they are there making you laugh and smile.
Tonight I was eating at Ruby Tuesday's...back in the States I would have avoided this restaurant after a few mediocre visits in Jackson, Tennessee. But, in Hong Kong...if you want a decent burger, you would go here. And I did...want a good burger...and get it at Ruby Tuesdays. I have a 50% off card that makes it not so so crazy expensive, roughly $10. Yeah, I said not so crazy expensive...I never said cheap.
I stroll up to the bar like Norm Petersen...you know, like I belong there...and everyone should know my name. They don't by the way. I am just another foreigner looking for a western meal.
I order the Colossal burger...it's huge. Two half pounders. One...stacked on top of the other! Ahhh, but my mother taught me well...take the other one home and stretch that meal! And, I did. But that is not the point.
I am about to bite into this monster, and all of a sudden I hear a song overhead that is quite familiar. Rascal Flatts. One of Cheryl's favorite bands. I can't help the smile that starts off in the corner of my mouth and moves across with the power of a tidal wave.
Now, I, however hate this song. It's was overplayed. It's a bit cheesy. It's endearing...but I guess I just got tired of hearing it played on every station on the radio. It was one of THOSE songs. It crossed-over into every genre, thus every station. One of the reasons I switched to satellite radio.
Bless The Broken Road. That's the song. That's the song that I hate and uncontrollably change on the radio EVERY time it comes on. It's instinct. It just happens.
But today...things changed.
And then I think to myself...ooohhhhhh...so, this is what it's like!
So I am tooling around on the web checking out various sites that I regularly visit and I follow a link to a UK site. Some kind of online newspaper or something. There is a cool picture of a guy who turned his house into the scene of a plane crash. Imagine LOST a-la suburban front yard.
To see the photo bigger, there is in parentheses the following words...(click to embiggen).
Embiggen.
I like that term.
I think I will use it in a sentence...after all, I AM and English teacher.
"My vocabulary is beginning to embiggen due to living in Hong Kong where there is quite a British influence."
*the typos were for irony
I hate mornings.
I don't do them well.
Somehow all the junk that gets in your eyes at night doesn't all wind up as crusty stuff that lives in the corners. That stuff is at least fun to hear hit the porcelain sink in the morning. I like listening to see how loud of a ding it makes when it hits...I usually judge how good of a nights sleep I had on that noise.
But the other stuff...the stuff that isn't dry yet. That goop...PISSES ME OFF!
It gets in the way! It simply blocks the sight of one eye as it pleases. It has a mind of its own, which is why I am taking this so personally. And you can't get rid of it without looking like you have pink-eye from all the rubbing. One minute you are fine, then next blurrsville. I can rub and rub and think I got the goop, but I never do. It shows up somewhere else...aided and abbeded by my eyelids.
Another reason I hate the mornings is that I never seem to get enough sleep. We have a meeting every morning that is conducted in Cantonese and lasts about 20 minutes. I hate waking up before 7am. I hate getting up and having to iron on some days because my clothes that are air drying are'nt quite dry enough. Not getting up any earlier leaves me having to rush. I hate rushing. I have left the iron on on a number of occasions. I hate leaving the iron on.
I haven't had a good morning since I got here.
Save the one where I checked myself into the Holiday Inn Golden Mile. Not your average Holiday Inn my friends. I checked myself in for the pillows...all six of them. The King size bed...the one I am on is from IKEA and has a headboard and footboard...and I guess in IKEAville people are just not as tall. The television...NFL scores just aren't the same on the internet...nor is Squawk Box. And of course, simply to spoil myself a little bit. I had space. I had real estate in the King Size bed. I had curtains over the shades that kept out the light that sometimes sneaks in through the blinds. I had space. I had great sleep, and...
I had coffee.
Ooohhhhhh that sweet nectar of the earth! It had been almost a year exactly since my last consistent routine with coffee. I have had the occasional cup of coffee, but nothing like the pot of coffee I would have once an hour like I used to. I had switched to tea last summer, after all,...THEY say that Green Tea has more caffeine than a regular cup of black coffee and Jasmine Tea settles your stomach and gets you ready for the day.
You know, I would love to learn about the different teas while I am over here and am working on getting a visit to a tea farm set up...I may even see if I can do some of the picking.
But, there is something about that aroma of coffee. And, I really don't know that the word 'aroma' can really be used in any other setting. Fresh French bread has a smell that is unlike any other, but it to me is a smell. I never say aroma about french bread. Nor do I say it about fresh baked cookies. The only time I use aroma is for the smell of roasting coffee. And, the best part of the deal is that you know exactly the scent I am talking of when I use the word aroma. It's that kick in the head you get when it wafts into your nose. That sudden, punchy smell...and it reminds me of so many things.
I get my share of the blessed aroma...there are Starbuck's aplenty. But, just none in my area. There really isn't any coffee chain or providers...in fact, not even at the 7-11. So my dear friends...bad mornings can get better...usually with a good cup of that filtered dirt.
But, for now, the next paycheck has a coffee makers name all over it...he thinks to himself as he rubs more goop out of his eyes while typing this during the morning meeting.
::: A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS :::
My "other" favorite trinitarian topic for discussion
Oh God...I can see the light!
This is how me and the lady keep up the heat! Man. I just think she looks so hott here! That's me in the bottom left hand corner and her office in her background. Each night we have a standing video call at 10 at night my time and 9am her time. This is us talking through some Christmas plans...as the song goes...
"I'll Be Home For Christmas!"
It's been 8 weeks tonight since i left out of DFW for Hong Kong. The adventure still unfolds and everyday I am thankful for this.
It has also been 8 weeks since my last haircut. So, I am doing a little research on what I would like to do. I mean, No one from home is going to see me for at least another 2 months, and that leaves plenty of time for hair to grow back.
I think to myself...Self...may be time for a new haircut. Let's see what celebrities I look like and check out their bazillion dollar haircuts and see what we have.
If only I could turn back time...
(not sure why the whole thing won't fit...that's Robert Downey Jr. on the right)
So, let's see. Who the crap is Matt Stone and Frederik Ljungberg? Wait is that Matt Stone from South Park fame? Well...then, we have the upstanding citizen sex addicts...and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Who incidently awoken my knowledge of what the word SHART means and shares an uncanny resemblance to my very own Basketball skills.
Did you know Cheryl was a State Champion Basketball Player? Yeah...she has no idea bouts deez skillz!
Finely tuned in Piscataway, New Jersey in one of three hoops venues...the chain-link hoop up at Tara Park, The Fultz's driveway, or at Kevin DeGrazio's...also the place where I got the infamous Sugarbear...affectionately known as Bear.
Game On!
So...where was I?
Oh yeah. On a bed, really just a piece of plywood covered in a sheet or two. A stained pillow of some sort, and splatter stains on the wall that indicate...well, that something went wrong for someone.
From my pillow I can see a few things that render the mind to think...UNSANITARY. Not too bad though, reminded me of the hospital in Brasil I visited. Yes, I would go back and yes, I would let a loved one be treated there.
Well, I am on my back and the little nurse comes in to introduce me to my new best friends. But, just before bringing them in I get a little shot in the feaster!
That's right Nurse...like two fine Christmas Hams crammed into some Khaki shorts!!! I am a cheeky fellow!
Then...the two best friends roll in. The nurse hooks me up with the very first IV drip I have ever had in my life. Actually, this is the first visit to the hospital that didn't begin and end in the Emergency Room and something on my face or head getting sewn up.
Drip and Drip Controller. These guys were going to get me back up and running...you know, the good kind of running. I am hooked up for the first time ever in my life to an IV drip...in China. I have lived some life folks...I have lived some life!
While I am getting the fluids and basically on my way to recovery, the other Doctor that was checking me in stopped by to say hello...This is the same one that took the other patient while I was being assesed. While I was slightly frustrated with him for the aforementioned curb-tossing he gave me, this was a really nice gesture and I was humbled...and even a little more comforted. Unfortunately for John and Jenn...who are pretty well versed in Chinese, this guy wanted to do nothing but talk about them and ask all kinds of questions...at 1am...in a foriegn language. Try that in English any day and see if you don't want to choke someone about 10 minutes into it.
The doctor clears up immediately our first question as to whether or not I am supposed to be drinking the super-salty mix they gave me. Drink it up he says. I guess we are getting hydrated from the mouth and the veins! About a liter into the water, I can tell things are working again because man do I need to go #1. Bladder is on 'F' and ready to make some room. Mind you all I can do in my head is think of the infamous, "went in for #1 and out came #2" whoopsie. And with the luck I was having with that whole issue...I'll add a leg crossing to the colon clenching and at this point, I totally must have looked uncomfortable!
While Dr. McChats-a-lot was keeping John and Jenn at a high blood pressure, I closed my eyes and just hung out there thinking. I mean could Christ have ever been more evident? China. Medically trained friends. Friends with the Chief of Staff. Harvard. English. No waiting in line. Extra visits by Doctors. Clarification of Harvard boy's prescriptions. I was at peace. I thanked the Trinity...you know...gotta keep it real...and I opened my eyes and the Doc was asking about one other prescription that he saw was missing. Luckily it was all squared away and it was for something I like to call Liquid Colon Concrete. 1 Dose of that stuff and it would be days before that seal was cleared!
It was now easily almost 2am and I was feeling superb. They asked if I wanted the last bag of fluids and I passed, the two I had were definitely enough. We thanked everyone and shook hands, I walked away smiling at the whole ordeal and laughed to myself.
Only one last thing we needed. To hail a cab, and it not take 45 minutes like coming home from the Psycho Communist Massage Lady. We should just send her in under-cover into North Korea, that whole thing will work itself right out! Well, we walk out of the building to head to look for a cab and there was one parked, almost like it was waiting for us.
Yes, friends. It's true yet again. The Bible tells us that God goes before us. He sure did. He protected me. He served me through different people. He blessed me. He gave me an adventure...and from your emails....He has given you laughter at my expense.
Anything for you...and...anything for Him.
Gotta love cell phones with Camera's. Thanks to Motorola and Nokia, we have documented the adventure for your viewing pleasure. 
"Emergency Reception"
We arrive at the hospital to find the Emergency Room entrance blocked off for construction. Perfect. A small concern in light of the explosive diarrhea I feel coming on again. And we have to go for a little walk to get to where we are heading. Its not the diarrhea that is the problem. But, most public places in China only have what we would call 'squatty potties.' Basically it's a porcelain hole in the floor where you...well squat. Not even hover. Knees bent, pants around your ankles and give it heck. Well...if I had aiming control it would not be a problem. Basically I do what any good Westerner would do...I clench...and clench hard. I am motivated by the thought that I would have to burn the clothes I came in with and the room would need hosing down afterward if I allowed the clenching to cease. Not on my watch.
"Emergency Observation Ward"
Down this hallway is where...well...you get observed. But Instead I decide to have a moment of reality and survey the situation.
Then...I make a decision...I have video capabilities on my camera! Time for a Last Will and Testament! I begin rolling the beautiful bean footage footage!
I am waiting and just sitting. It's only a few minutes and there are tons of people here. It looks like a frustrating wait to see a doctor. AHHH...but not if you know the Chief of Staff!!! We are ushered into a seperate area for a consult. The Doc checks me out. He takes us into another room and gets started right away. He asks me some questions and basically we determine that it has to be Food Poisoning. The term used is Acute Gastroenteritis. And then the confusion begins.
First of all. Out comes the Thermometer. All I can do is look for the mercury tip on that thing. If it's long...that is a good sign, oral thermometer. If it is short...um...not getting my temperature taken that way...especially if they knew the kind of night I had before. It's long. Phew. I open my mouth to take the thermometer and the Doc is like "WHOA! No, no ,no." Crap...I think to myself...it is a rectal thermometer!!!! Gheez this keeps getting more and more awkward.
Then relief comes when he says, "In China we take the temperature in the armpit." Ahhh...much better. But, I'm like...you sure you wanna do that there big guy? I mean these guys are special...Hyper-Hydrosis my friend...HYPER!
I usually peg low on the 'ol body temp. I had a 100.3 temp. High for 'ol Mold.
Then the wierdest thing happens. The other Doctor in the room that is talking to mine and taking notes all of a sudden takes another patient. I was like...look lady...get the crap out of my way. I am being treated here! I wanted to stand up and just yell...I mean let her have it. Ohhhh it pissed me off. But hey...TIC...This is China, they just do things differently.
After the consult the scripts are written and my bill comes to a total of $170. You must pay before you get to the next step. John goes and pays the $170 cause he is such an awesome man...and that it only adds up to about $17 bucks! It was expensive because they prescribed imported medicines. So, you know...first class for mold. The doc gets the scripts and says, "Follow me."
We head off into the hallways of the hospital and out the door to another building. He finds me a bed instead of a chair and I get a place to lay down. Incredibly kind of him.
Looks like I am not the only wiped out one. Jenn grabs a little rest too.
I get up from the couch to have one more go at it. I figure...it’s time, and I am sure it is ready to rumble.
The Ring? The Porcelain God. The Contenders? My Stomach and My Mouth. Ding...friggin ding you sorry $%*@#$%!
The bell tolls...nothing. Nothing at all.
And then...
I begin to shiver. Not shiver...shake...I mean like I am doing the truffle shuffle...Goonies fans, Hello?...you out there? I see that hand...yeah, there you are! Where was I? Oh, yeah.
My chin is shaking violently...I cannot even talk normally...my knees are shaking, everything is shaking...I have zero control over myself...I am getting a little freaked out. My tongue feels like it is swelling and my throat is closing up. I do the only thing I know to do...run a hot bath...and look at John. I tell him what I am going to do hoping that he gets freaked out by the sight that I am...I mean I look like I have Parkinson's (not kidding) and I am now a little scared that I am heading for convulsions or siezureville. Or...even worse...the Chinese version of 911...119. Who said they were original? By now, I have lost all color and can see the veins in my hands like I was Mr. Slim Goodbody. All I can think in my head is...warm up the Ambulance! Call Dr. McPukey...cause here I come...better yet...I think to myself...
"HERE I COME JESUS...I AM COMING HOME!!! THIS IS IT...WHERE'S THE LIGHT? WHERE'S THE PART WHERE I CLAIM JESUS AS MY SAVIOR? WHERE'S THAT GATE? IS THERE REALLY A GATE?"
Then I hear John. He says hold off on the bath and gets Jennifer. She's a sight for sore eyes. He and I looked like a bunch of people who just got asked a question they had no idea how to answer...but tried anyway. I think they are called Democrats. Sorry Keith. Just kidding. Had to.
She says no on the bath and says get into bed. She and John put about 6 blankets on me and then add a hot water bottle. John heads for more Gatorade at the shop below the apartment and by now my back is killing me. I can't lay down on my back. I have to switch to my side. Too much pain. I have never felt like this...nor have I ever felt so helpless. John gets back with the Gatorade and I take a swig. I look over and while shivering I try to get intelligible words out and say, "I am almost about ready to go to a hospital Jenn."
She replies with a comforting thought. "Oh no, were not going there buddy...not unless you are dying. You don't want that experience."
Helpless feeling gets increasingly present.
John adds a bucket to the bed I am in...just in case. I smirk. I think to myself. Awww...they are worried. C'mon...I'm good in that arena. My tongue feels huge, and my throat dry. I feel a little nauseous but no where near the firehose puker that I was.
Then...I burp.
Oh crap. Yeah...I can make it to the bathroom...no prob- uh oh. Hand over mouth. Burp again. Uh-oh...this ones not stopping...nope not just a burp. Oh, hello puke all over the wall...and the door...and the floor. Who knew puke could get through a hand that fast and spray that far? That's lovely. Oh...we're not done. Welp...yup...here comes some more. The target is now is sight. I see the sink..oh great...remember the sink. BAM! I hit it. I get in position...perfect form again. I am getting good at this!
I look up. No blood vessels burst. Tears in my eyes. Most of the stomach stew is in the sink. Then I hear it. I hear the words...and I hear them in slow motion. It's Jenn's voice. I hear her say to John..."Call Kirk...have him bring their car. It's time to go to the hospital."
Oh great. Didn't she say we weren't going there unless...um...I...uh...um...was...um...dying? Great. I am dying. I am dying. Dying in China. Dying. Great. Well maybe they'll just wheel me down on a gurney to that incinerator. Cool. WAIT!
I feel better. Really I do. Then, my ride arrives...
About 1.30am or 2am, I feel something in my stomach trying to get out. I get up out of bed and head to the restroom and just feel sick and thirsty. I use the restroom and grab some water out of the cooler. Uncomfortable and not fun, but nothing too exciting...at least for another 30 minutes.
I woke up again...and now I am pissed! I hate waking up in the middle of the night. It is like someone is stealing from me. I get pissed. Then I feel my stomach. Eyes bug wide open. There is a monster growling in my stomach...and he's even more pissed than I am. He wins. Off I run.
This may um...get...um...graphic at times. Parental Guidance suggested.
Let's just say that I run to the restroom and park myself where you are supposed to park, and as Larry the Cable Guy says...I could have pooped through a keyhole it was going so straight and fast! Then...the other end kicked in. I am projectile out of both ends and making ungodly noises in the bathroom next to 8 ten-year olds trying to have a slumber party. I mean the noises were sickening and the odors worse. I was grossing myself out and having just a terrible terrible experience. All the muscles in my body were now involved and I must have looked like a bear choking on a hairball. It was terrible. That Dumb and Dumber clip had nothing on this.
My episode ends and all I can say is..."What the hell was that?" Many of you don't know that if I am not in the right stance to vomit, then I blow all of the blood vessels in my face and eyes and then I look like an absolute monster. Luckily I had good form for the hurling. This was a relief. I give myself a 10. Yay for me.
That feeling of relief would last all of about 5 seconds.
I look up, wipe my eyes clean of the tears that accompany convulsive muscular tremors beginning at your toenails and ending at your scalp, and I look into the sink, the lucky receptor of the contents of my stomach as well as all corners in my body...pretty sure my pinky tow turned inward so much stuff came out of me. The water that I turned on to "thin out" the...um...leftovers...yeah,not going down the drain. GREAT!
So...let's recap. Explosive diarrhea, projectile vomiting, 8 ten-year olds, next room, friends house, China, middle of the night, thirsty still, and sink clogged. Awesome. Oh...and I use up all the toilet paper on the roll at this point.
A few words are going through my head at this point. You can imagine what they were.
I clean up. I regroup...I stand up firm...even confident...I look at that sink...I look at my arm...I think to myself...my girlfriend is a nurse and she has told grosser stories...I CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN DO THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISS! I ram my hand in to the puke stew and unclog that drain myself!!! I am a MAN, I can FIX things. AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!
Well......no luck. I try again and I get some draining going, I work that hand around and sure enough get the drain open and down it all goes. The odor remains...the stink stew is gone. I feel significant about myself...and sick at the thought of what I just did...but oddly enough, prepared for fatherhood and diaper changes.
I clean off the arm...now considered a weapon of mass destruction, and disinfect it. I return to the bathroom every 45 minutes or so for mostly turbo-explosive diarrhea all throughout the night. I get madder and madder and madder. I start shivering uncontrollably at about 4.30am and run a bath. The hot water runs long enough to cover most of me before it turns cold. Still thirsty.
No place to go get Gatorade at this point. I am in someone else's home and all are asleep. I am not waking anyone up unless they hear me and come running to see death happening before their eyes. I mean, c'mon, this could be embarrasing if anyone finds out!
6.45 am rolls around and I am dying...no seriously. I feel terrible. Every bit of water I put in comes right out. So thirsty. I see John is up and I ask him if he feels ok. He and I ate everything the same all day except for at dinner. I have narrowed down the culprit I think. Sorry sucker feels just fine, looks fine, and has energy. I almost hate him a little. A little.
I finally get to sleep about 7am and wake up around 11. One more episode and off I go to bed again till 2pm. I get up, think about lunch...at this point I am starving and thirsty. John goes and gets Gatorade for me, and they just serve me left and right making sure that I am doing ok. We watch the Formula One race from Shanghai and then take naps until dinner.
Jenn is a nurse and I trust her judgment here, she and I both think that all seems ok and we are back on the right track!
And then...
Then...it happens. I paid $12 for a 2-hour massage. It was incredible. That little 90-pound chinese massage lady bent me in ways that no human should bend and basically folded me into a pretzel about 12 times...all at the same time. Ever folded a table cloth...yeah...a little like that. Once...just once...it really was uncomfortable.
They give you these little paper shorts and shirt to wear if you want. Well, I put the shorts on and they had little sewn in underwear in them, I was like...this is unnecessary. I am not going swimming in paper shorts. Then she folded me into a pretzel and I totally ripped them right in that spot where as a man you hate to rip any kind of covering. Luckily I kept my manties on! That could have been embarrassing! What...you don't call them manties?
I feel a little sick at the end of this little assault and am excited we are taking a cab home. I mean, the little communist must have moved my stomach all around my internals. My stomach saw more of my internal cavity on this trip then ever before!
It takes us 45 minutes to find a cab in this city...it was unbelievable!!! It has never been like this. Every cab was full. I was dying. I wanted to lie down on the street and sleep. It was after midnight and I was super-relaxed...all except a little nausea from little Ms. Ali's boxing my body back there.
We finally get a cab thanks to that sickly loud whistle my Dad taught me as a kid...Dad and David Fultz. He helped me put what Dad told me into action. Not sure if he knows that. Hmm...seems like he did the same with learning to swim. Thanks man! Anyway...I caught the empty cabbie going the other direction and whistled him around to our side of the intersection. A great way to end the night!
Or...begin the morning...
John is up early and I am sleeping in. I hear a knock on the door of the room I am staying in and he summons' me to the breakfast buffet at the Holiday Inn. This is the hotel that I usually stay at where the western breakfast buffet is killer. I am even considering getting a room for one night of my visit just to feel like old times...and another excuse to get the buffet again.
I pound down all of my favorites and this time around I am not as shell shocked to the few Asian items on the other side of the buffet...they seem normal to me. That is one point I realize that this is normal, that this is home to me. I have those every now and then. We visit with the hotel management that he has introduced me to over the years, a few American's who are there on business, and enjoy that great coffee that the hotel has perfected.
Shortly after, we head home on foot. We are walking around and I am just being updated about all the latest development projects. The most shocking was seeing that from the hotel all the way back to the oldest Christian church in China had been leveled. Completely leveled. All the shops, homes...everything. I had bought things in these stores, been to small groups in these homes, and basically just looked at them from the rooms high above in the hotel and wondered about the life among the people there. All of it is gone...just so we can add another shopping mall I am sure.
We walk and walk, and I am soaking it all in again, it feels so great to be back in this city. We pass the incinerator where they cremate bodies, and while we are passing, a fresh one rolls up. Luckily, it was in a van. Sometimes, they just come up from the hospital still on the gurney. We lingered there a minute, hoping to see such a sight. Nothing happened. We walked.
We stopped for a frozen lemonade there by the University Campus...XIA DA (sha da). LUIS TOVAR I AM THINKING ABOUT YOU RIGHT NOW. Anyway, Tovar took Xia Da to a new level. So, yeah we walked, talked, got a cab. Headed home. After a bit we went and looked at another hotel to see if it would be too nice for groups to stay in, and it was. Too nice, same price. Can't be too high on the hog on those kind of trips.
From there we looked at the newly installed boardwalk all along the beach-front. The great thing about the Chinese is that once their minds are made up, they do it. No red tape. Just do it. Bulldoze. Tear down. Build a boardwalk. But, the downfall of this bias for action is that it gets done. Without planning. Just done. They built the boardwalk on the beach during the daylight hours during low tide...well guess what happens during high tide?...that's right...boardwalk disappears! T.I.C! (this is China...they just do things differently).
So from there we grab a mango smoothie and head home, make popcorn for the 8 ten-year olds that are at the 4fish home and are going to spend the night with their daughter. From there we head to get pizzas at an Italian restaurant favored by the local internationals for their dinner. After we deliver the pizzas we head back to this restaurant and I have one of the best meals I have ever had. Chicken leg stuffed with sausage. It was incredible! I mean the flavors melted together so well. The chicken was actually stuffed with more of a salami than sausage. So as it cooked, the juices and everything married so well together. Amazing.
We head home and check on the rest of the family and the 10 year olds.
Dinner began pretty um...quietly...that would change.
While we are at dinner at the aforementioned "rooftop" the place was swarming with college students who were drinking lots of beer and basically getting wasted. As time went on, it got louder and louder outside on that quiet little retreat we like to call the best meal in town for $2.
It seemed that just after we finished eating Gua Bao Ro (the best sweet and sour pork you could ever find in the entire planet) and Gambien Sujido (yeah, no idea how that one is spelled...5 Spice Green Beans) they all got up to do the pee pee dance right behind us by the bathroom door. It took until then for them to realize that there were three whiteys among them dining. One of them a redhead....and the weirder part was two of them spoke Chinese!
That is when the beer goes down and everyone is suddenly an ambassador for Xiamen and for China. We are then surrounded by super nice drunk Chinese college students who pour us a few shots of Coca-Cola. Albeit in their previously beer-laden glasses while they try and communicate in drunken Chinglish. It really was quite a gesture.
The students then went to playing a game they play during this holiday week that isn't played anywhere else called BoBing. A little obnoxious game that sounds like bells going off all around town.
It is a dice game thrown in a ceramic bowl and they all chip in to purchase prizes for the players to win. They have small prizes and large prizes. Tissues may be one small gift, and a rice steamer a large gift. As we were leaving, one of the students reached over and gave me one of his prizes, a cup of fruit custard. Sounds cheesy, but it was really humbling looking back on it. He just gave me, a complete stranger, a gift. Something he could have really enjoyed. And you wonder why I love this place so much?
Again, that thought hits me about the whole dinner experience...You just don't see that everyday!
J, J, and I head back to their place and the redhead and I head out to our favorite coffee-shop over looking Gu Lang Yu Island, which at this time of night is all lit up and beautiful! A couple of coffees, some Haagen Dazs, and a good deep convo and its night night sleepytime.
Little did I know the night would be whispering through the cool air a warning message for me,..."silly boys – rest well...you are going to need it!"
I just boarded my plane in probably the fastest time I have ever boarded a plane.
Not to mention that I am flying on the newest airliner I have ever flown on...it even has that new car smell! Other than buying out Wal-Mart of those little Ozium scented aerosols...how they got that car smell into an airplane I have no idea! ;0) (of course I know how...they just parked a bunch of new cars in it at the factory...duh!) 
It’s an Airbus A330 and seriously...it has to be week’s old if that old. The Rolls-Royce Engines are massive and put out an amazing amount of thrust as we took off into the Hong Kong Sky headed northeast along the evening lit coast of China. I feel like I am in a finely appointed Ferrari. Or... imagine that I’m in a Ferrari...basically because I have never been in a Ferrari so I would have no idea.
Anywho, even the bathrooms are nice...I even lingered in there for awhile if you know what I mean...hahaha...lingered. Ok, just kidding...saw the opportunity for a fart joke and took it. (Slapping my wrist now and telling myself to grow up...My reaction?...I am stomping my feet in protest. If only I had those light up shoes, it would be a freaking strobe party up in this hizzy).
Where was I...oh yeah. So this jet is sweet. Made me think about those entertainers that we pay crazy amounts of money to, being able to lease one of these bad boys all comforted with swanky leather and...well, strobe lights. There they are again. Strobe lights.
OK...I just re-read this post and I sound like those two friends of mine back at the pub took over for a few minutes. They didn’t...no coup here in my part of Asia. I guess I am just really excited.
The flight lasts about 55 minutes and after all of the flights I have taken on this airline, probably 10 by now, the food on this one is definitely the least favorable. Fish-Burger. No thanks.
Passing on the fish-burger I wait for the greatness that is ‘the rooftop’! This has to be the best hole in the wall I have ever eaten at! I was told that we would head there immediately after my arrival.
I land, and make my way toward Immigration. It is then when I am walking there alone, without 25 college students or even a handful of them...that this is weird. I wound up at the same Immigration post as when the college students all landed there with me. I looked up and I swear I saw J. Sand getting stamped in, T Dizzle, Jess, Mya, McElligot, Anna and Shelby...the whole crew was there in my mind. I realized how much I miss all of those students, and more importantly their friendships.
I walk through customs with no problems or hassles. My passport pages are now completely filled with China visas and I’ll have to get more pages sown in this next week at the consulate. I head through the gate and there is that red-headed rascal looking all skinny and smiling, ready to pick me up. John is one of those guys that shouldn’t be one of your most trusted buds, but is. He is 20 years older than me...on paper. This guy would wear anyone out energy wise and just happens to be one of the coolest people I have ever met. Talk about young at heart...the man defines it.
We get a cab and head to meet up with his family. The man driving the cab was a guy with a regular car trying to pick up a few dollars...normally they look like the one in the picture. His was just painted silver with no light on top. We negotiate down from 60RMB to 50RMB and get on our way. Our cabbie is a shifty little man. I mean that literally...he kept shifting in his seat and rocking. He is making up some time and getting us there in fine speed...then.
Then he pulls over, throws up the emergency brake, says something in Chinese and jumps out on a three lane road. I am thinking...he is going to take my luggage hostage from the trunk and demand more money. Then it hits me...this isn’t America...this is China...he probably needs to...yep, there he goes...he just needs to tinkle. The dude pulls over and heads into the woods to take a leak. How great is that?
While Captain Leaks-a-lot is relieving himself I am relishing in the hilarity that it is. Little did I know how much better it would get. A few minutes down the road we wind up in a traffic jam. For those of you who have been to China...you know traffic jams don’t last long because of the creative driving they employ. This one had to last a good minute. Turns out we were trapped behind slow moving Dirt Movers that were working on a construction project. Sir Leaks-a-lot yells out the window at the drivers and basically road rages on them as we inch by. Finally free of the jam, he bears right and pulls over. I am sitting here going...what...is he going to fight the guy? No, he grabs his bottle and tries to go in to get hot water for tea. John flips out, threatens to get out and get another cab, and I am just thinking to myself...This doesn’t happen everyday!
We get back to the house with no problems and head out for dinner!
