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April 6th 2010
Published: April 6th 2010
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The undersides of my feet are dyed a dusky indigo blue, as for some inexplicable reason I figured an adventure to Hong Kong a good enough reason to break in my new flats. This was to be one of a series of unfortunate decisions I would make in regards to this particular venture.

I have known for quite some time that I must travel to Hong Kong for visa purposes; as I have lived in the Mainland for a year now and have used up all possible extensions available to me. All this prior knowledge did not spur any sort of practical planning and my usual last-minute and haphazard travel arrangements were hastily pulled together at the last second. As I am not due to receive my first pay cheque from Ivy until the 16th of this month I had to beg an advance of 6000rmb from my agent to front the cash necessary to cover travel expenses and obtain a new visa. In an attempt to be as frugal as possible, I booked a ticket to Shenzhen (a boardering city to HK) and figured on finding my way to the crossing and traveling by MTR to … this was where my half-formed plan stopped.

Of course I didn’t manage to pack beforehand and spent my last night out with friends and our houseguest who I had made good pals with as Simon had abandoned us during the week on an impromptu business trip leaving me with instructions to, “play nice with Mattias”. My roommate is a memorable host. So Saturday found me out and about, shopping with Cathy (ex. new shoes) and then enjoying a nice Thai meal with the typical crowd. Of course then I was persuaded to join them out in Sanlitun for KTV and “just a little dancing”. The next time I looked at the time it was by then 2:00am and I had to catch an 8:30am flight on Sunday. Argh. I rushed home and into bed, arising at 6:20am to madly pack (ie. throw whatever I saw into a bag) and realized as soon as I arrived at the airport that I had neglected to pack any underwear. Hmmm.

I arrived in Shenzhen easily enough and immediately was struck with the change in humidity so I escaped into a bathroom to shed a shirt and my stockings. I remember thinking at that time that my shoes were a tad uncomfortable, but decided against switching them to my trusty (albeit tattered) old flats. I shouldered my bag and pushed on; ignoring the ill and unsettled feeling my poor caffeine riddled/sleep deprived body was torturing me with. I was instructed to go to Louhu Port by bus and enter customs there. I found the bus easily enough and did my best to not nod off during the trip, as I was scared of missing my stop. Not too much to relate about Shenzhen as it was so smoggy I could scarcely see anything.

All fears aside, I arrived at Louhu Port and was glad to see signs clearly marking the route to customs. During my walk it dawned upon me that I had (of course) neglected to change any of my rmb into HK dollars, but luckily there was an abundance of currency exchanges nearby. So, feeling slightly better with some cash in hand I prepared to leave China, the experience of which left me with the oddest and most surprisingly sad sensation. I was shocked and bemused over the emotional reaction I had… which I hadn’t encountered previously when I left Canada. How ridiculous to become nostalgic over leaving a country you expect to return to in less than a week! (I have no explanation). Predictably my guilt complex kicked in as I entered Customs, and I was sure that somehow my papers would be incorrect (or my visas found to be illegal!) or somesuch issue, and I spent the entirety of the queue sweating and on edge. I assume I am just so used to everything in life being extraordinarily difficult that I’ve become a bit of a pessimist! Haha. Besides thinking that the Customs Officer took a worryingly long time perusing my passport, I passed through without a hitch. Whew! At this point I was really beginning to suffer from the strain my poor tired body and increasingly uncomfortable feet weren’t prepared to handle. I boarded the MTR and headed towards Tsim Sha Tsui, where I had a vague idea the “cheapest” lodgings were to be had. Got a bit confused over the transfer system (apparently some transfer stations are only a particular direction on a differing line) but realized my mistake quickly enough and arrived at my intended station by around 4:00pm. Now this area is famous for its cultural diversity (of ethnic minorities) and is a mecca for sprawling labyrinths of shops, guesthouses, money exchanges, and curry takeaway. Immediately after exiting the MTR station I was bombarded on all fronts by various touts offering me rooms, tailoring, handbags and watches. Now one would think that coming from a year in China I would be well accustomed to this kind of in-your-face hard sell, but I’ll admit that even I was overwhelmed. I wandered into ChungKing Mansions and spent the next hour or so on this notoriously slow lifts going between and comparing guesthouses. This tuckered me out so entirely that I wearily accepted lodging from “Kamal” who lured me in with promises of wireless internet (which of course turned out to be a falsehood) but at that point all I cared about was a space to lay my head. Dormitories aren’t very common here (and if there are any they are immediately booked) so you instead find yourself cloistered into these tiny spaces smaller than most guest bathrooms back home. You get a bed, and about two feet of extra space to shove your belongings. (Luckily I’m not claustrophobic and have always been fond of ridiculously small spaces, otherwise this could be torture). I dropped my things and lay in bed, amazed that I had finally arrived. Too exhausted to function, I began to munch on the cookies I found from a Mrs. Fields outlet in the MTR station… the bliss of munching on those REAL chewy cookies after my exhausting day cannot be properly described. I fell asleep covered in crumbs at around 5:00pm and didn’t arise until 8:20am the following morning.

Forgetting that Monday was a Chinese holiday, I awoke determined to sort out my visa application. I remembered that the MTR stations had photobooths, so I first went there to get the necessary photos taken. (Unluckily for me I would later discover that the PRC policy has changed to requiring a particular background color and ears showing, so this venture would prove to be worthless and expensive!) You could basically sum up my entire visa quest as an unfortunate battle. I went from agent to agent, only to be told that the policies in Hong Kong have recently become quite strict and to obtain an “F” visa I needed to have a business card from my home country (never needed in Beijing) and that my companies invitation letter could only come from Shenzhen…? Which made no sense, and it seemed that everywhere I went had a new story, or new problem. It may end up after all that I just get a tourist visa to re-enter China and then upgrade once back in Beijing. Tired of this fruitless endeavor I returned to my room to console myself with cookies and beg an outlet converter from the staff so I could charge my laptop. After he lent me the converter he then proceeded to knock on my door every five minutes or so to offer me cups of chai, naan, then a box with some pastry stuffed with date and bean paste? and an orange cut into a flower… and then offered to buy me some beers. This forced courtship was a little much for me after my visa trials and I really attempted to be polite, but firm that I needed privacy and alone time… but I don’t think the proper message was conveyed and probably by accepting his other gifts we are now betrothed. Oh well, one issue at a time…

Knowing that there was little I could do about the visa, as it is a holiday, I chose to leave the matter for the time being and explore a little. Ironically enough I encountered a sweet roasted potato cart that reminded me so of Beijing that I had to purchase its warm tasty goodness and enjoy the sensation of home. Afterwards I wandered down Nathan Avenue towards Victoria Harbor and ended up on the Avenue of Stars. That was quite fun to stroll down and try and discover various stars I recognized. (Yes, I placed my fingers in Jackie Chan’s handprints). I rediscovered how irritating it is to travel by yourself when it comes to photo taking. There are only so many of the arm outstretched shots one can handle as I find they all end up looking the same. I’ve been really spoiled in the past with the hostels I’ve stayed at, as they have all possessed common rooms, which makes befriending fellow travelers an easy feat. Here, with everyone tucked away in their own tiny hole and expensive rents make common areas an impossible luxury. Also, with so many people harassing you to buy their wares or offering their services, I find folks are quite wary of being approached. I was even met with suspicious stares when I offered to take a picture for a couple so they could both be in the shot. Not the friendliest bunch here. So yeah, it’s weird to feel limited in making friends, or at the very least meeting people. I’m so starved for human connection that I desperately struck up a conversation with the Turkish man selling Indian meals inside the Mansion. He was laughing at my shoes (I switched to the comfy ones that are riddled with rips and holes) which made me point out the obvious fact that I was so poor I required discounted food. We had a good laugh and some pretty tough bargaining (which interestingly enough isn’t that common here), but he ended up thinking me quite charming and gave me quite a hefty discount on my meal with free salad and chai. I munched away and chatted with him and another Cantonese lady for some time. Both had been in Hong Kong for over 15 years but consider it a mistake. We didn’t get into it, as the past is done, but I found that an intriguing reality and concocted my own imaginative explanations. I’ve been instructed that I’m welcome back as long as I keep mum about the deal he gave and I can only eat if there are no other customers. The small kindness shown of being fed and the conversation exchanged did much to cheer me, and even though my phone rang late at night with husky offers of beer from my irritating suitor, I was good spirited enough to grunt a rejection as sweetly as possible.

Today I made up my mind to escape my love dungeon and find more social surroundings elsewhere. I remember reading of a “Travelers Friendship” hostel in the neighboring Mirador Masions so I set off to track down the possibility of a dorm and was lucky enough to secure a bed. Within five minutes I dumped my bags and latched onto an Israeli male and British female who were venturing forth to go market hunting. Eager to be in anyone’s company, I accompanied them. We wandered the streets and hunted for bargains, but I must admit that my impression of Hong Kong is INSANELY EXPENSIVE! My poor Chinese system is sorely shocked at the obscenity of prices here and the real reluctance and restrictions in bargaining. I truly cannot wait to return home to Beijing! It’s amazing how ingrained certain behaviors and habits have become… I hadn’t consciously noticed any changes in myself, but being here has presented a contrast and truly makes me realize how much Chinglish I use in common conversation. Certain words and phrases don’t come out in English naturally any longer, and I find myself speaking Mandarin unconsciously, only to be startled by the confused stares of those around me, and then attempt to trigger the appropriate English explanation. Darn Cantonese! I have had no further luck on the visa front and am getting quite frustrated with the whole process. Write more later… ta ta.

… the rest of my stay in Hong Kong consisted of hectic rushing from visa office to visa office - despairing over the twisted language, different stories, and general unhelpfulness from the professionals who held my re-entry in their hands. What I came to understand was that with the Expo approaching all the policies have once again tightened and for some reason Hong Kong was now restricted to only issue business visas for companies in Shenzhen. Odd. Frustrated over how my intended “holiday” had transpired into an extended formality nightmare, I settled for a tourist visa (just so I could get the heck outta there) and began to make plans for my trip back to Beijing. Purchasing the train ticket home put me in a much brighter mood and I was then able to settle slightly and shift focus from stress and strife to more positive matters. Ironically all the folk inhabiting my room were all having “I Hate Hong Kong” experiences, so commiserating with them was bonding and fun. We formed a little posse and tried to discover any cheap option available. One restaurant we discovered was called “Africa Home” (or so the scribbled slip of paper on the door led us to believe). It was an illegally run establishment out of someone’s apartment, so when you knocked on the locked door they first checked to ensure you weren’t the police before allowing you entrance. There were no menus… instead you were sat down and told you would each be getting a different dish. It was great! I believe the plantain and rice was everyone’s favorite. We stuffed ourselves silly and tried to leave the premises as unobtrusively as possible.

Friday arrived soon enough and I gleefully packed my belongings and set off for the train station. Experienced my usual panic when exiting HK (sure my visa was a fake) but made it through without a hitch. While I was lounging about the waiting room I struck up a conversation with a British gal, who amazingly enough ended up being in the same compartment with the top bunk across from mine! I discovered she was going to stay in Leo’s (the old hostel I lived in when I first arrived in Beijing) and was glad to give her tips and advice on local spots in that area that were worthy to check out. We spent as much time as possible in the dining car as our bunk space was so cramped! I don’t know if words justify the joy I experienced when pulling into Beijing. I was home! When we exited the train station my euphoric state greatly increased my Chinese skills, so for a laugh, I negotiated an “illegal” cab fare for the two of us. (Basically bartering out a rate from a local with a car). We piled in with a gentleman and his wife and I was in such good spirits I shared my stock of cookies with them. Sarah thought it was great fun to be doing exactly what every guidebook warns you against the minute she arrived - which I couldn’t agree with more!

Routines have been once again picked up and I am really glad to be back at work with my kiddies. It’s really exciting to see how much English they are picking up and willing to mimic. Plus, the ones who were frightened of me now are comfortable with my funny foreign face and shower me with hugs and kisses!

The only sour note is that we received word from our landlord that he intends to hike the rent on our apartment 41% when our contract expires (May). Darn property values! Consequently I expect to hit the pavement this weekend and seek other lodgings. Simon has a work mate who is also looking for a place, so we hope to discover an affordable 3-bdrm. Please pray for us! We love the area we are in and location-wise it is so convenient for all our jobs. (Plus I don’t want to learn another address!!!!) Anyways, this all has to be sorted soon, so cross your fingers.




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