The First Month

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”—John Steinbeck

86 Degrees

54% Humidity

It’s nearly been a month since I’ve been in Hong Kong. It’s been a whirlwind to say the least. I feel like I keep saying that, but it’s the truth. My feet have barely rested in one spot since the plane settled on the ground. That is not a complaint; mind you, simply an observation. Despite all my fears and apprehensions about this urban jungle, Hong Kong is definitely satisfying my hunger for adventure, much to see and much to do.

Just a few of the locations I have been since arriving on Sept. 4th.

The majority of the month of September has been dedicated to Dragonfly specific staff training with several days off to venture out into the unknown. Six days were spent on Lantau Island in the small village of Mui Wo doing all the policy and procedure side of things. We then moved to the miniscule village of Hoi Ha where we commenced our site specific training. I will be calling Hoi Ha home for the remainder of the season as long as I am not needed elsewhere.

Hoi Ha is a village consisting of about thirteen houses that virtually all belong in the same family, that being the Yung family. Many of the small villages within Hong Kong are all one family. Hoi Ha was started by the Yung family and has remained in their hands roughly for the last 200 and some years. Everyone carries the same last name, Yung, yet they are all separate from one another so you have to remember who you are doing business with. It’s Mr. Yung, who runs the restaurant, and it’s Mr. Yung who runs the kayak shop where we store our kayaks for programs, yet they are two different men.

Hoi Ha. My home for the next three months.



Our kitchen up on the roof.



The view from our open kitchen out on the roof.

In as small of a village as Hoi Ha, good relationships with the few business owners that reside there are extremely important. Burning bridges in Hong Kong don’t get you anywhere. That’s the Chinese way it seems. If you go up to someone with your western ways and pressure them into getting something that you want, you might get it, but you might get it for a hefty price as well. Whereas, if you are introduced to them by someone and you bide your time, you also get what you want and you save your money too. If you consistently do business with one restaurant and then you suddenly go to the neighboring competing restaurant, the next time you go back to the former restaurant, expect the food prices to be higher than they were the last time you were there. That is just how it works. It’s a delicate situation, despite the fact that the competitor might also be their relative.

The village of Hoi Ha fulfills my need for seclusion. Thirteen homes and only one restaurant that is just open at the lunch hour, serving local Chinese fare. If you don’t have a car you have to catch the bus to Sai Kung, the nearest largest town for any supplies. The bus costs $10.70 Hong Kong dollars which is like $1.30 cents U.S. dollars. It swings thru 20 and 50 minutes past the hour, its last departure from Hoi Ha for the day being at 1850pm. If you miss that final bus your only option is a taxi which will cost $100 Hong Kong dollar.

It’s only twenty minutes to Sai Kung but on occasion it can be a hair raising twenty minutes. The public transit drivers can be a force to reckon with. The driver’s priority is to make money since jobs in this area of Hong Kong are a bit limiting. In order to make money, they need to be efficient with their time. Needless to say, Hong Kongers do not dally. Everything is business to them. You do not hesitate in the grocery line; you do not dither at the taxi door unsure as to your destination. They will shoo you out of their vehicle, castigating you with their rapid flow Cantonese.

Bus drivers will often drive at break neck speeds. When you factor in the obstacles of narrow roads, oncoming traffic, moseying feral cattle in the middle of the road, the need to go to Sai Kung to the wet market no longer feels like a priority. Staying alive, however, does.

The speed that the drivers go at is visible above the rear view mirror for the passengers to see with a large sign saying the following: Maximum speed for this vehicle is 80km. This is posted right next to the digital speedometer, but how often it is enforced is another story. I spent one bus ride to Choi Hung from Sai Kung gripping the “Oh shit” bar for dear life sure that that day was my last. The driver careened through the tight turns, his finger permanently attached to the horn, blasting at anything that considered nearing his front bumper. I sat in the seat, my eyes fixated on the digital speedometer over the driver’s head, watching as the numbers kept a steady 90km when the speed limit outside was 60km. Amazingly enough, I arrived in Choi Hung without a scratch and ten extra minutes to spare. Despite the efficiency, it felt good to set foot on solid ground, I won’t lie.
 

Our days at Hoi Ha have been filled with familiarizing ourselves with site visits to the locations we will be running programs at. We’ve also been prepping ourselves for the experience of working with students that come from an ESL background. ESL meaning: English as a second language. I have worked with ESL individuals before, guiding in Alaska often puts you in contact with many different clients from all over the world.
 

However, having the opportunity to instruct a day program of 80 Japanese nine year olds who don’t speak English was truly an educational opportunity. Despite the language barrier, you can still get young children to understand the necessities. All you had to do was smile and start cheering and you were surrounded by giggling, cute, little, dimpled Japanese imps eager to chase you in a silent game of tag. If you picked up a slow moving beach snail to show them you quickly had more beach snails presented to you than you knew what to do with. Despite the language barrier, they loved us.
 

So, what do I think of Hong Kong? Well, to put it simply, I am not sitting here disappointed. I’ll admit, I can recognize the fact that before arriving, I had actually succumbed to the stereotype that many Americans fall to when it comes to the idea of Hong Kong. I had been convinced that I would be living amongst towering sky scrapers and I wouldn’t see a blade of grass. Boy was I ever wrong.
 

Employed under Dragonfly’s wing, I have had the great opportunity to see the “hidden” side of Hong Kong. It’s rural side.
 

It’s amazing.

Street vendors in Central.



Sky Scrapers in Central.



The other side of Hong Kong...the villages.



Tai O...a little fishing village where they live in stilt houses.



















 

It’s still vastly different from anything I’ve experienced recreationally, but this journey can still be classified as a step into remoteness, something I need. I feel humbled to be wandering the little concrete trails that bisect the countryside of the New Territories, rambling in and out of the small cramped villages that are barely hanging on by a shoestring. It gives one a glimpse of how tough it is to survive here if you don’t make the commute to the big city to work.
 

Hong Kong is a mystery, an intriguing one. The name Hong Kong came from the Cantonese word, “heung-gawng,” meaning “fragrant harbor.” The story behind this christening is a specific tree, the Aquilaria sinensis, also known as the “Incense Tree.” The incense was exported as far as Arabia back in the day.
 

Historians state that Hong Kong was incorporated into the Chinese empire as early as around 200BC, yet it was considered a “remote pocket in a neglected corner of the Chinese empire” for many, many years. China as well as Hong Kong remained separated from the outside world for many centuries until around the 1500’s when Portuguese explorers set up a trade center on a small island called Macau. Today, Macau is the gambling center of China, bringing in more revenue than the glittering strip we call Las Vegas (more to come on Macau in a later post). The Dutch, the French, and then the British soon followed the Portuguese. By the 1700’s mainland China and the south lying islands consisting of Hong Kong were open to European trade.
Once the invasion of the West came, it was all downhill from there for the Eastern culture.
 

Today, Hong Kong can be broken into five different regions: the main island Hong Kong, Lantau Island, Kowloon, the New Territories, and the Outlying Islands. Hong Kong Island is most commonly known as the “central district.” Central and Kowloon is where you can find the impressive towers of sky scrapers and streets packed with bargain shoppers, the Hong Kong that we all hear about back in the states. Despite its metropolitan feel, it’s a sight to see. Little alleyway street vendors selling dried fish right next to glamorous Prada wanna be’s.
 

The New Territories and Outlying Islands is where Hong Kong’s “wilderness” is at and that is where I am located. The region consists of designated areas called Country Parks which is equivalent to National Parks back in the U.S. The sky scrapers were left behind and the land was reclaimed for recreation and preservation. This is where many of the small villages can also be found. It is a different lifestyle. There is very little “old growth” forest left in Hong Kong. The land was virtually clear cut during the Japanese invasion of World War II and has since been re-established mainly with non-native species unfortunately due to the fact that no native plant species remained.
 

This region consists of a myriad maze of hiking trails, some on beaten earth and many on a foundation of concrete. It took a bit to get used to the idea that the majority of the trails here in Hong Kong are on wide paths of concrete, but at the same time it is nice. It lets you cruise along at a good clip, left to enjoy the scenery.

Dim Sum Yum Yum

 "Good food ends with good talk." - Geoffrey Neighor

Air Temp: 82 degrees

Humidity: 50-75%

My second morning in Hong Kong I was treated to my first dim sum experience. My friend, Turk-A-Lurk was eager to show me the wonders of Hong Kong so we woke early before training and hit the streets of Mui Wo to break our fast. Turk has been in Hong Kong since last September, and is an intrepid traveler. I trusted his judgment and followed faithfully. I soon found myself sitting down to a table with a bowl and a set of chopsticks and a plethora of mouthwatering Chinese yummies. 

Dim sum refers to a style of Chinese food prepared as small bite-sized or individual portions of food traditionally served in small steamer baskets or on small plates. It is also well known for the way it is served in some restaurants. Fully cooked and ready-to-serve dim sum dishes are carted around the restaurant for customers to choose their orders while seated at their tables.

Mui Wo Dim Sum

I dug in wholeheartedly, my stomach growling.

Eating dim sum at a restaurant is usually known in Cantonese as going to "drink tea" (yum cha), as tea is typically served with dim sum.

The History of Dim Sum:

Dim sum is usually linked with the older tradition of yum cha (tea tasting), which has its roots in travelers on the ancient Silk Road needing a place to rest. Thus tea houses were established along the roadside. Rural farmers, exhausted after working hard in the fields, would go to tea houses for a relaxing afternoon of tea. At first, it was considered inappropriate to combine tea with food, because people believed it would lead to excessive weight gain. People later discovered that tea can aid in digestion, so tea house owners began adding various snacks.

The art of dim sum originated with the Cantonese in southern China, who over the centuries transformed yum cha from a relaxing respite to a loud and happy dining experience. In Hong Kong many restaurants start serving dim sum as early as five in the morning. It is a tradition for the elderly to gather to eat dim sum after morning exercises.

In an essence, it is the eastern version of the western idea of a diner. Back in the states, the little local greasy diner is the gathering for all the senior citizens to get caught up on the local gossip of the area. Or at least this is how it was where I grew up in Afton, NY. 

The Dim Sum Menu:

A traditional dim sum brunch includes various types of steamed buns such as cha siu baau, dumplings and rice noodle rolls (cheong fun), which contain a range of ingredients, including beef, chicken, pork, prawns and vegetarian options. Many dim sum restaurants also offer plates of steamed green vegetables, roasted meats, congee porridge and other soups. Dessert dim sum is also available and many places offer the customary egg tart.

Dim sum can be cooked by steaming and frying, among other methods. The serving sizes are usually small and normally served as three or four pieces in one dish. It is customary to order family style, sharing dishes among all members of the dining party. Because of the small portions, people can try a wide variety of food.

Dim sum brunch restaurants have a wide variety of dishes, usually several dozen. Among the standard fare of dim sum are the following:

• Gao, or Dumpling is a standard in most tea houses. They are made of ingredients wrapped in a translucent rice flour or wheat starch skin. Though common, steamed rice-flour skins are quite difficult to make. Thus, it is a good demonstration of the chef's artistry to make these translucent dumplings. There are also dumplings with vegetarian ingredients, such as tofu and pickled cabbage.
• Bau : Baked or steamed, these fluffy buns made from wheat flour are filled with food items ranging from meat to vegetables to sweet bean pastes.
• Phoenix claws: These are chicken feet, deep fried, boiled, marinated in a black bean sauce and then steamed. This results in a texture that is light and fluffy (due to the frying), while moist and tender. One may also sometimes find plain steamed chicken feet served with a vinegar dipping sauce. This version is known as "White Cloud Phoenix Claws".
• Steamed meatball: Finely ground beef is shaped into balls and then steamed with preserved orange peel and served on top of a thin bean-curd skin.
• Spare ribs: In the west, it is mostly known as spare ribs collectively. In the east, it is Char siu when roasted red, or when roasted black. It is typically steamed with douchi or fermented black beans and sometimes sliced chili.
• Lotus leaf rice: Glutinous rice is wrapped in a lotus leaf into a triangular or rectangular shape. It contains egg yolk, dried scallop, mushroom, water chestnut and meat (usually pork and chicken). These ingredients are steamed with the rice and although the leaf is not eaten, its flavour is infused during the steaming.
• Congee: Thick, sticky rice porridge served with different savory items.
• Sou: A type of flaky pastry.
• Taro dumpling: This is made with mashed taro, stuffed with diced shiitake mushrooms, shrimp and pork, deep-fried in crispy batter.
• Crispy fried squid
• Rolls

Desert:

• Chien chang go: "Thousand-layer cake", a dim sum dessert made up of many layers of sweet egg dough.

• Egg tart: composed of a base made from either a flaky puff pastry type dough or a type of non-flaky cookie dough with an egg custard filling, which is then baked. Some high

Tea With Dim Sum:

The drinking of tea is as important to dim sum as the food. The type of tea to serve on the table would be typically one of the first things the server would ask dining customers. Several types of tea is served during dim sum:

• Chrysanthemum tea – Chrysanthemum tea does not actually contain any tea leaves. Instead it is a flower-based tisane made from chrysanthemum flowers, which are most popular in East Asia. To prepare the tea, chrysanthemum flowers (usually dried) are steeped in hot water in either a teapot, cup, or glass.
• Green tea – Freshly picked leaves only go through heating and drying processes, but do not undergo fermentation. This kind of tea is produced all over China and is the most popular category of tea.

Dim Sum Etiquette:

There are common tea-drinking and eating practices or etiquette that Chinese people commonly recognize and use. These are practiced not only during dim sum meals but during other types of Chinese meals as well.

It is customary to pour tea for others during dim sum before filling one's own cup. A custom unique to the Cantonese is to thank the person pouring the tea by tapping the bent index finger if you are single, or by tapping both the index and middle finger if you are married, which symbolizes 'bowing' to them.

This is said to be analogous to the ritual of bowing to someone in appreciation. The origin of this gesture is described anecdotally: an unidentified Emperor went to yum cha with his friends, outside the palace; not wanting to attract attention to himself, the Emperor was disguised. While at yum cha, the Emperor poured his companion some tea, which was a great honor. The companion, not wanting to give away the Emperor's identity in public by bowing, instead tapped his index and middle finger on the table as sign of appreciation.

Leaving the lid balanced on the side of the tea pot is a common way of attracting a server's attention, and indicates a request for more hot water in the tea pot.

The Turk in the flesh!

A glimpse of Mui Wo

A little Mui Wo magic

More to come :)

Hong Kong: Asia For Beginners

 "Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still." -Chinese Proverb

Air Temp: 84 degrees

Humidity: 81%

Léih hóu (Hello in Cantonese, pronounced “lay hoe”)

I have officially been in Hong Kong for three days. It feels forever ago. Our plane settled on the ground at the Chek Lap Kok Hong Kong International Airport a little after 1800pm on Sept 4th. I have to be honest and say that the mystery of the Hong Kong landing strip is no longer true. I had heard thru the grape vine that landing in Hong Kong was a night mare of an experience because the pilots had to careen thru various sky scrapers to set the planes down on the landing strip. Alas, that is no longer the case. Since 1998, the airport was rebuilt at Chek Lap Kok, allowing for pilots to land their planes with an ample landing strip. 

 I departed the plane unsure as to what I would face on the other side of that door. There was no turning back. Similar to my flight to Antarctica last fall, this was a sealed deal. I was here until December 5^th. The only way I would be boarding a return flight earlier than what was scheduled would either be due to a death or serious illness in the family. 

Thankfully, as the Lonely Planet guide book promised, the Hong Kong International airport was ridiculously easy to get around. Everything was in English and there was airport personnel stationed in strategic locations to point you in the correct direction if you needed. It was service with a smile. Everyone smiled at you. So I smiled back. 

I made it thru customs without a glitch, my passport stamped with a 90 day visitor visa. No questions asked. The man simply held my passport up and stared at my face for about a minute and then stamped it with a solid smack of finality. As if to say, you’re here to stay. 90 days. My backpack was awaiting me at the luggage carousal and finally it was time to make my one phone call. 

In the packet of information Dragonfly had sent me, I had been informed to look for the white phone on the wall after getting my luggage. The white phone was a courtesy phone and would allow me a free call to the staff housing so I could alert someone of my arrival. I spotted the white phone and made my call. I was greeted by a soft spoken man named Brandon who informed me that I would get on the blue Lantaou Taxi to be taken to Mui Wo (pronounced Moy Whoa) and be dropped at the Mui Wo Wet Market. Someone would meet me there and walk me to the staff flat where we would stay for the first few days of training. Initially the directions had been to be dropped at the Mui Wo McDonalds. Reading those directions reared my unruly imagination and had me fearing I was a part of some Hong Kong drug heist.

Get in the blue taxi, don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Look for the McDonalds on the street corner. If you don’t have 55,000 in Hong Kong dollars we’ll take your first born child. 

Yes, these are the things that sometimes go thru my mind. 

But, finally touching base with someone on the phone who directed me to a specific location, made it real. I was in Hong Kong and yes, there was indeed a company here called Dragonfly Outdoors.  I would soon get my first glimpse of Hong Kong. 

China. 

Asia. 

I walked out of the airport and was nearly knocked over by the heaviness of Hong Kong’s oxygen. It was heavy, hot, and dripping near 100% humidity. It was stifling. I wasn’t prepared for that first inhalation of Hong Kong and it definitely caught me off guard. I cringed at the thickness of it. What was that smell? That taste? Hong Kong is known for its air pollution. They weren’t joking. I was no longer being spoiled by the purity of Alaskan air. In Antarctica it had been 100% zero humidity, I was facing the near total opposite. My body’s system has been in complete shock over the last three days as I remember what it is like to function in sweltering heat. 

Once my lungs and breathing pattern had stabilized and become accustomed to the thickness of the air, I easily found the appropriate blue taxi that I needed to take. There are three types of taxis in Hong Kong, red, green, and blue. The red taxi is considered the “urban” taxi and will operate in most areas of Hong Kong. The green taxi is the “New Territories” taxi and mainly operates in the north-eastern and north-western parts of Hong Kong. The blue taxi is the Lantau Taxi and only operates on Lantau, one of the islands that makes up Hong Kong. 

I hopped in, stated where I need to go and we were off. I hadn’t even really thought about it, but I was slightly surprised that in Hong Kong you drove on the left as they had in New Zealand. Then it made sense because Hong Kong had once been under Britain rule as had New Zealand. We wheeled out of the airport and I was afforded my first glimpse of Hong Kong. 

I was not disappointed. 

Where the airport is located is away from the main “downtown” district of Hong Kong. The Hong Kong we all hear about back in the states. So I have yet to get a glimpse of that Hong Kong. Where I was, there were still a few sky scrapers, but it was not as densely populated. As we drove by I found myself staring at these tall buildings, a little dumbfounded. They just didn’t look real. They stood higher than anything else, lit up like Christmas trees in the quickly falling dusk, surrounded by palm trees. 

They didn’t look real, yet they were pretty in their own way and they had caught my curiosity. We sped away and I quickly found myself peering out into the darkness at narrow, winding roads as the taxi driver careened toward Mui Wo. It was a short twenty-thirty minute taxi ride to the Mui Wo Wet Market that cost me $136 in Hong Kong dollars which breaks down to roughly $17 U.S. dollars. 

The red star marks where I was dropped to start staff training

 I hopped out of the taxi and found myself standing on the street corner of a tiny little market like no other market I had ever seen. It was nearing 20:00pm at this point and the market had shut down for the evening, but I was intrigued by what I did see. Red Chinese lanterns dangled from the ceiling, the smell of fresh fish and sea food still wafted in the air. I later learned that a wet market means a market where you can find fresh fish and other ocean dwelling creatures that they will kill and cut up right there for you right along with fresh veggies and fresh fruit.  I stood on the street corner looking around. I had no idea where the staff member that was supposed to meet me would come from and I had no idea who it was going to be. I didn’t know where my friend Turk-A-Lurk was located at in Hong Kong. We had exchanged a few emails, but he hadn’t known if he would be able to meet me when I flew in. So I had no idea when I would see him. 

So I stood there, sweating profusely as I waited. I took in the sounds around me. I listened to the pitter patter of a few lasting rain drops from the sudden torrential downpour that had hit as we drove from the airport to Mui Wo, the sounds of the locals chatting in Cantonese as they rode by on their bikes, dinging their bells as they passed pedestrians on the street. I took in the smell of feral cattle standing a block away, chewing their cud, swishing their tails to stir a little breeze in the thick air. I watched the wild dogs wandering down the empty street corner looking for an easy meal in the trash bins sitting along the edge of the cobbled street. 

I was in Hong Kong, yet I wasn’t in downtown Hong Kong. I was in a small village on one of the neighboring islands making up Hong Kong. I hadn’t even set foot on the actual island of Hong Kong. I was getting to witness village life in Hong Kong and it was fascinating with just what little I could see standing there in the dark. 

I was dumbfounded over the fact that I had easily arrived in Hong Kong without a single glitch. It had been so easy, too easy. But there I was. 

Adventure commence.