Mmmmm… Chewey

Chow last night with 17 co-workers, my only requirements were no chicken feet or drunken chicken (of which the major point seems to be gnawing the bones for delicious marrow.)
Of much interest is what the white boy would eat. No one would eat until I’d sampled whatever was placed in front of me, which greatly fucked with my OCD: I usually must pick through and identify all the bits before throwing anything down my gullet.
The only oddities included shark fin soup, which wasn’t bad — but somewhere between motor oil and wallpaper paste on the consistency scale. Next up: jellyfish, which didn’t have much taste per se. If you want the experience and the store’s fresh outta jellyfish, just do a rough chop on your sack (yeah, that one) and saute lightly in sesame oil.
The whole dinner consisted of about 10 courses, and was really quite delicious. I must say there’s some spectacular cuisine to be had here, including the “beef doughnuts” I had last Saturday night.
Tonight had Indian, as my colleague has some whacky dietary restrictions/superstition on Friday which I don’t pretend to understand. (Hell, Indians get superstitious about breathing.) We ended up in Wan Chai, where I learned that street numbers mean basically nothing. (In Japan, they’re numbered in the order in which they were built. Same here? F if I know.) The dal and dosa were delicious though!
Saturday tomorrow, which means a half day of work, since these people are masochist… I mean, SOOOO hard working. I can tell by the many MickeyD’s and KFC’s that given another decade Hong Kong will enjoy the same obese lethargy that makes America USA USA USA #1! Saturday will take it’s proper place: hang-over recovery day.
Oh, I found a relatively uncrowded supermarket today and picked up a few things. Smooth sailing until I wanted oatmeal — my choices included “drinkable” oatmeal or two flavors: chicken & mushroom or anchovy. I passed.

Crikey!

This apartment came complete with teddy bear sheets and sand-paper towels, so of course the first thing I did was scurry out and acquire new — a hair-raising experience as shopping anywhere here is akin to a European soccer riot.
The place was cleaned today, the lil’ darling even sweet enough to pick up my dirty socks from the floor (charmed, I’m sure) and fold them into neat piles arranged by hue. (Or is it crustiness?)
Anyway, they absconded with my $250 worth of new sheets and towels! I’m back to the sand-paper, my bed now sporting a bi-polar nautical/sunflower theme.
Tomorrow: I brave the supermarket! Edge of yer seat, ain’tcha?

Oh, Kylie!

Sleeping on a Cliff

My apartment here is on the 31st floor on the eastern side. I’m told that, for Hong Kong, it ain’t half bad: small, functional, cleaner than most restaurants.
The combo washer/dryer has all manner of settings foreign to me, and for being a computer engineer, it took me a remarkably long time to locate the soap cup. I’ve always thought that combining a washer/dryer into one unit was smart, but in execution it takes about 5 hours to complete one cycle and the maximum load is about 2 shirts and 1 sock (not both).
The bed is elevated and butts up against the bedroom window. I’ve mostly overcome my fear of rolling over in bed, having the window promptly pop out, and waking up somewhere around the 21st floor and about 7 seconds before I become a strange stain on the sidewalk.
Pictures:

click for larger view
bedroom view	window of death	living room
balcony view	kitchen/laundry?!

Obligatory Touristy Snaps

From the Sky Lounge in the Sheraton Kowloon:

From the ferry back to Wan Chai:


And from Victoria Peak:

Today went Canon 30D shopping in Mong Kok, without the assistance of a local. Utter chaos. During the week going to drag someone ‘in the know’ down there. Prices I was getting today were at least $280 less than the US, but I think if I go into some of the places off street level I can go a bit cheaper. I may pick up several unlocked phones to hock on eBay as well — there’s all manner of 750, 810, 900, SLVR, RAZR’s and the like to be found.
Move out of the hotel and into our ‘company’ apartment tomorrow. There’s a clothes washer underneath the burners in the kitchen. No dryer. Kwazy.

No Naked Smoking

Reprimands

Fay Gwai Lo

…or ‘fat white devil’ in Cantonese. You learn so much here!

Origins of ‘Stinking Drunk’