So Fat! So Fat!

Chinese people have what some may deem a genetic advantage: they are, for the most part, very slender.  This is just a fact.  Put the average Western person next to the average Chinese person and that Westerner is going to look like a giant.  This can be good sometimes… I can always find my husband in a crowd!

I’ve never been a big person.  In fact, I’ve always been fairly small.  Curvy, but small.  In Hong Kong, I’m on the larger size of average among my co-workers but I did not plan to let my 10lbs weight advantage on my new friends get in the way of my life here.  Admittedly, I’ve put on some weight since moving here… it’s probably more than 10lbs now.  The cheap cab fares have made me lazy and, as it turns out, I’m a stress eater.  Hello, my name is Stephanie and I’m a chocoholic. 

In North America, we obviously see slender, fit women who are beautiful, but we also see overweight women who are equally gorgeous.  Just the same, either a tiny or large woman could be very ugly.  We’ve seen it all.  If you’re from North America, you likely have friends of all shapes and sizes and have never given it much thought.  There is such a variety of body types and such a variety of people who love and accept each one.  Of course people are still marginalized and ostracized but, on the whole, we accept and acknowledge beauty in its many forms.    

Unfortunately, Hong Kong doesn’t see it that way.  In Canada, I’m average (I range from size 6-8).  In Hong Kong, I think I’m borderline obese.  This drastic shift in knowing how I’m viewed by the public has really been playing tricks with my mind… seriously, who develops self-esteem issues for the first time at the tender age of 29?   

    

Here, there is no “curvy” or “overweight”.  There’s just perfect or fat.  No polite words, no beating around the bush.  And if you’re fat, you’re ugly.  There is just no arguing this.  And people here are blunt.  If they think you’re fat, they’ll just tell you.  Maybe it’s a lack of English vocabulary to say it more politely or maybe it’s a cultural difference in thinking it’s acceptable to say at all, but I’ve been told I’m fat many times in some pretty hurtful ways.  In Hong Kong, weight is a small talk topic.  In North America, we say “How is your family?” or “What do you think of this weather?” but in Hong Kong, small talk goes like this:

Person A: Hi!  Long time, no see… Wow!  You’ve put on weight.  You’re looking fat now!
Person B: Yes, I just started a new job so I haven’t had time to exercise lately.
Person A: Oh, well take care of yourself or you will get very fat like Person C. *points to a slightly pudgy Person C*
Person C: *seemingly not noticing the jab* New job?  How much money do you make?
Person B: Around $50,000 per month. (Financial status is also fair game to discuss.)    

So no one seems to care or take it to heart if someone just blatantly calls them fat.  But I care and it’s something I really struggle with over here, on my own behalf and on the behalf of others. 

In the classroom, it can be downright painful to listen to.  What is deemed as a classroom joke here would make national news headlines back home:

Me: Our sound today is ‘c’…. who can think of some words that begin with ‘c’.
Child: Cake!
Me: Very good!  C-c-c-cake.  Say it together now.
Class:  C-c-c-cake.
Me: Mmmm, who likes to eat cake?
Child: Me!!!!
Local Teacher: That is why you are so fat!

This was a real conversation, word for word.  When I told the other teacher later how awful that was, she replied that it was a joke and the child knew it because he’d made the same sort of joke about his love of food earlier that week.  Well, in my brief experience being “fat”, I have already learned that I would be the type of person who would make jokes about myself… that doesn’t mean I’d want to have jokes thrown right back at me.  Maybe it’s so imbedded in the culture that this child truly is fine with comments like this.  I somehow doubt it though.

Here are a few of the scarring things that have happened to me in the past few years:

-The first time I learned I was fat, I was shopping and had a few pairs of jeans in my hands.  I asked if I could try them on.  The sales lady looked me up and down and shook her head.  I watched, confused, as other people walked in and out of the fitting room.  Well, I wasn’t about to buy jeans without trying them on so I put them back.  I was still holding a button up sweater that I wanted to buy as I continued to browse.  A few minutes later she came back and grabbed everything out of my hands and told me that nothing would fit me in their store.

-I told my very petite local friend this story and she didn’t believe me.  She thought I must have misunderstood something.  We decided to go shopping together so I could show her what it’s like for me.  In the first store, I wanted to try on a dress and she wanted to try on a pair of pants.  She was holding both items when we went to the fitting rooms.  They waved her in, but when she handed the dress to me, a look of flustered embarrassment came over the sales girl as she explained to my friend that I would not be allowed in. 

-When I was getting my scuba diving license, I couldn’t be weighted properly.  They’d never seen anyone as buoyant as me before and made no bones about telling me so.  Standing on the boat in a skin tight wetsuit, I was told I might be too fat to dive.  I promptly lost many pounds of water weight in the form of tears.  And then I got my diving license anyway because if whales can manoeuver themselves in the ocean, I surely can!

-This summer, I went back to Canada and definitely overdid it on eating Reese’s and poutine.  What can I say… these are the things I miss while overseas.  So, after 5 weeks away, I stepped into the staffroom at work.  Immediately, a well-meaning co-worker ran up to me, jumped up and down with excitement, rubbed my belly and congratulated me.  This was the single most embarrassing moment of my life.  It wasn’t a baby-bump at all… just the remnants of my summer fling with cheese curds and gravy, stuffed into my size 7 jeans. 

-Ok, that was awkward, right?  Let’s end this blog on a light note.  So, a few years ago, I was walking on an overpass, across the highway to the train station.  It’s very common to see vendors of all sorts on these overpasses, handing out flyers or peddling their wares.  One man in a business suit said something to me in Chinese and tried handing me a flyer.  I smiled and tried to move on because I didn’t understand him and couldn’t read the flyer.  He then proceeded to yell after me in English, “So fat!  So fat!”  WHAT!?  I carried this horrible phrase around with me for over half a year, until the night of my bachelorette party at a stand-up comedy show.  A comedian came out on stage and proceeded to tell the EXACT same story about his girlfriend.  I was floored!  I wasn’t the only one who’d had to go through this public humiliation, but how was this funny?  Then came the punch line: his girlfriend came home crying and he had to explain to her that Mr. Business Suit was a real estate agent and that “So fat!” was actually a laboured attempt at saying “Show flat.”  This man, without his ability to pronounce “sh” or “l”, was just trying to sell me an apartment!  I have never laughed so hard in my life.

So that's my story.  I'm just an average-sized white girl trying to make it in a Chinese world.  

Thailand

Even though we are Hong Kong-based, we have been fortunate enough to travel a lot.  Hong Kong schools give plenty of extended holidays and it’s easy to travel cheaply within Asia.  In addition to sharing my life in and around Hong Kong, I’ve decided to use my blog to share some of my holiday adventures with you…  I’ll start with Thailand because that’s the first place we went.

Mai Tai in a pineapple

Thailand has a bit of a reputation for being a dangerous and crazy party country (thank you, Hangover II) but in reality, I never once felt unsafe or even uncomfortable.  Perhaps if I’d gone to Bangkok, I’d feel differently, but I found the people of Phuket to be friendly, welcoming and happy. 

Now that I’m more well-travelled, I do things a little differently than how I did it in Thailand.  When I visit another country, I like to explore all aspects of it.  I will usually hire a driver (because driving in Asia is completely insane), plot out my route ahead of time, and see the whole country.  I like to experience varying qualities of hotels, from 5-star to utter darkness.   I enjoy doing both touristy things and experiencing life in local villages.  I rarely stay in one town for more than 2 nights and the days are packed with memorable activities.  Thailand was more of a stationary, relaxing time (though there were definitely some wild adventures mixed in).  There was no plan, no driver, and certainly no 5-star option.  But truthfully, even now, I wouldn’t do things any differently if I visited Thailand again. 

We arrived at the airport a shortly before midnight and noticed that everyone’s bags but ours were wrapped tightly in plastic.  This is a precaution tourists take to prevent being unsuspecting drug mules. *Note to self for next time.* Outside the small Phuket airport, we tried to get a cab to take us to our destination, Kata Beach, about an hour away.  All the cab drivers had charts that listed how much it should cost to get to each place.  Word to the wise:  they will throw these charts in your face and frantically try to outbid each other for your business.  Ignore the chart prices.  They are designed to rip off tourists.  Whatever the chart says, say you’ll to pay about half that price and if that driver won’t accept your offer, move on to the next one.   Thailand is known for horrible, dangerous driving… maybe if I’d been in a city, I would have noticed, but Phuket seemed relatively safe to me.   

An hour and a half later (after an unsolicited ‘bathroom break’ at a high pressure tourist shop on the highway) we arrived at our hotel and just crashed for the night.  The next morning we woke up refreshed and ready to enjoy all that Thailand has to offer.   I had booked the hotel online a few weeks prior on hostelworld.com (now I do all my booking months before) and we planned to stay there for the duration of our stay in Kata Beach.  If you go to Thailand, I recommend this place.  It’s called Hotel Kata Center Inn (make sure it’s the one on Taina Street)…. It’s definitely no frills but the food is awesome and the service couldn’t have been friendlier.  Every morning, we had free pineapple-banana pancakes and banana milkshakes.  We still make these pancakes about once a month at home and reminisce about how great that trip was.

The hotel was ideally located about 5 minutes from the beach.  We spent many a long day at the beach.  You rent a beach chair and umbrella for dirt cheap and just lounge around while people bring you pad Thai and coconut shakes.   The beach also offered parasailing trips.  It took me a week to gather my nerve but it was a rush that was very well worth it.    

Parasailing at Kata Beach

When we weren’t lounging at the beach, we were adventuring.  My husband and I both love animals, so our adventures (and entire trips, in fact) tend to revolve around our furry, feathery and scaley friends.  On Christmas day, we went elephant riding through the jungle.  It was amazing winding up through hills, enjoying the fresh air and seeing the trees where rubber comes from. If you are going to do this, please book with a travel agent (tour shops are easy to find)… do not just drive around and find men with elephants.  They may offer you better deals but these fly-by-night, roadside operations often seriously neglect and mistreat their animals.  If you see a man who uses a stick with a metal poker to control the elephant, don’t do it.  Travel agencies will set you up with companies that are more reputable.  You will pay more, but that’s because the money is actually used to take care of the animals.  The same thing goes for snake and monkey shows and encounters.  Please pay more and observe the conditions of the animals.  Animal cruelty is a serious problem all over Asia.  That being said, what an amazing once in a life time experience!  We also got to play with monkeys and snakes that day. 

Jungle elephant riding

My friend, the Burmese Python

We also shopped a lot.  I got countless dresses and shoes for a fraction of the price I’d pay at home.  My husband had been to Bangkok with some friends a few months before and brought me home plenty of purses and shoes then too.  We also got our wedding favours in Thailand.  You can imagine their surprise in the shop when we ordered 125 musical wooden frogs!

Wedding frogs

Another day, we went snorkeling by the Phi Phi islands.  The water was so clear.  There were fish EVERYWHERE and they were eating bread right from our hands.  I’d never seen anything like it before.  In Thailand, it was my first time swimming in the ocean.  It’s too cold down the west coast of Canada and the U.S., and I hadn’t had the opportunity in Hong Kong yet at that point. 

Two doors down from our hotel, there was a foot massage shop.  The massages were so cheap!  (Maybe around $2 CDN for an hour.)  We went there every night.  There’s nothing like a foot massage to help you unwind after a day of swimming and eating!  One night, we decided to venture out on the town.  Again, I felt safe the entire time, but it was definitely quite the interesting experience.  We walked down an alley about 5 minutes from our hotel and entered an open air room.  Inside this one room, there were about 50 different bars squished together, most with a ladyboy or two dancing on top of the bar counter.  Despite Thailand’s reputation for red light districts, this wasn’t one of them…  it was just  interesting and entertaining.  In fact, the only creepy thing I saw during this trip was the middle aged American business men and divorcees.  They were plentiful and each was latched on to a beautiful teenage Thai girl (or, in some cases, ladyboy). 

So that’s Thailand in a nutshell.  It was an amazing time and a great start to our travelling adventures in Asia.  Stay tuned for more trip details and pictures, interspersed among the regular blog posts. 

Kata Beach

*Edit*  After I wrote this entry, I got a hankering for a Thai coconut shake so some girlfriends and I went to Bangkok for the weekend as a part of my friend's bachelorette party.  We stayed in a pretty quiet area and the entire city was 'dry' because they stop serving alcohol during election time (something you should find out about BEFORE planning an overseas bachelorette).  All in all, it was a great trip.  We took a hassle-free taxi from the airport, stayed in a hotel suite that was bigger than all our HK apartments combined, shopped, ate and got foot massages.  I wanted to go shark diving at the aquarium but the ladies weren't up for that.  Maybe I'll have to bring my husband back for next time.  

Movin' On Up

Hong Kong’s housing market is not to be approached by the weak of heart.  It’s a fast paced, cut-throat world where space is at a premium and square feet may as well be gold.  I don’t claim to be an expert at all, but I had a crash course this weekend with the end result leaving me feel like I just built hotels on Park Place and Boardwalk and all the Community Chest cards are stacked in my favour.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Since we moved here, 26 months ago, we've been living what I call “The Suite Life” (because I like puns).  We've had a beautiful suite on the 23^rd floor of a hotel that has everything we could possibly need, including furniture and gorgeous hotel facilities.  Basically, we arrived, checked into a hotel the first night and just never checked out.  (Of course, we weren't paying nightly because that would be ridiculous… we were on yearly rental contracts) Our hotel has two towers.  Tower 1, where we live, is called a ‘serviced suite’.  In Hong Kong terms, this means that it’s fully furnished and includes the perks of a hotel (maid service, fresh towels/sheets, pool and gym, etc.)  I've been 2 train stops from work and about an hour from downtown (which is fine by me… I’d so much rather commute for social things than every day for work).  We've been really happy there.  Tower 2 is an actual hotel that is usually packed to the brim with tour groups.  Since capacity is so high, the powers that be made a very smart decision to turn both towers into full hotels.  This completely makes sense.  So at the end of our contract (Jan 11), we have to leave.

Upon hearing this in September, I went through all the stages of grieving before arriving at acceptance last week.  I was so terrified to look for an apartment here because everything is done so differently from Canada and, well, sometimes different is just plain scary. 

In Hong Kong, to rent an apartment, you NEED to hire an agent.  The advice I’d been given was actually to hire MANY agents.  Don’t worry, you only pay commission to the one who actually gets you a place.  This was the part that terrified me the most… we’d heard many stories of swindlers and liars.  In this volatile game, they’ll do anything for a buck.  And not speaking the language can obviously be a huge barrier for you/advantage for them.  What happens is that you tell the agent what you want, being careful not to give too much away.  Maybe they shouldn't know where you work because they can guess how much you make.  Maybe you shouldn't tell them exactly how many square feet you’re looking for in addition to your budget because they may show you only junk within your budget and then utter luxury outside of your budget to make you think that’s all that is out there.  I have friends who have used as many as 10 agents all at once.  They go into each office and disclose vague specifications.  Then nightly (and sometimes even through the night) agents will call and show them different flats.  I can’t imagine how overwhelming that would be.  After you find a place, you sign all sorts of scary contracts between the agent, tenant and landlord.  You pay 3.5 months rent (first month, 2 months security deposit, and .5 months commission to the agent).  The thing that I thought would be very frustrating is that each agent only has access to certain flats.  A building could be at 50% vacancy, but if your agent only has the key to 1 unit, that’s all you’re able to see, unless you go with another agent also.  (Hence the recommendation to two-time your agent.)

I was so desperate to avoid the middleman that I spent about 3 hours on Friday walking around, trying to get into buildings and talk to porters/concierge to see if I could find out which units were available and which agents were representing those units.  Unfortunately, it turns out that most of the buildings I was interested in had locked gates with private entrances.  The ones I could get into had a strict privacy policy about their availability and said I’d just have to find agents.  It’s one big guessing game.

So, this weekend I put on my big girl pants and stepped into a real estate office with my husband.  Our agent, Stephen, was great and we trusted him right away.  Instead of just taking our information and getting back to us, he set aside his whole day to take us around.  He listened to exactly what we wanted and even traded keys with other agents so he could show us homes that fit our needs.  The next morning, he did a lot of research for us and we met after lunch for round two.  That’s when we found our dream house.  Stephen was an amazing negotiator and made it all happen so smoothly.  Let me tell you all about it and I’m really sorry if it seems like bragging… I'm just soooooooooo excited!

First, the estate is about a 5 minute walk to work in one direction and a 5 minute walk to the train station and grocery store in the other direction.  It’s also home to two of my friends (looking forward to having some neighbours to hang out with) and right around the corner from one of my favourite Hong Kong restaurants.  (For those who are familiar with Hong Kong, we are moving to Yuen Long.)  We get the keys January 2^nd.

The estate itself has nine towers.  The nine towers share a clubhouse.  For a very nominal monthly membership fee (and a few small ‘per use’ fees depending on what it is) we will have access to: an outdoor pool (seasonally), indoor pool, saunas, jacuzzis, a pool table, piano practice rooms, a bowling alley, and a KARAOKE ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!   (For those who don’t know, I love both bowling and karaoke.)

Now on to the apartment itself…  it’s a PENTHOUSE.  That’s right, penthouse: high ceilings, lots of space and our own private ROOFTOP PATIO.  I had joked with the agent about wanting a roof because I really miss having my own private outdoor space (very few yards here).  But it was supposed to be just that… a joke… because in Hong Kong, this sort of living is practically unheard of unless you’re a millionaire.  Our penthouse has two bedrooms.  Usually, bedrooms basically fit a large bed and not much else… this isn't the case here.  There’s also a bathroom with a bathtub (luxury in Hong Kong).  The kitchen and living room are spacious and open concept.  Each has a door out onto the patio rooftop which is also quite spacious.  It’s a good thing my husband is tall because there is so much high storage room in the kitchen.  The patio has a panoramic view of the Shenzhen, China skyline and surrounding mountains. 

It gets even better… the couple that lives there right now is leaving in a bit of a hurry for a family emergency and can’t take a lot of stuff with them.  There is a GIGANTIC custom-made wardrobe in the bedroom.  It has more storage space than we might actually need… even enough for all my clothes and shoes!  We had negotiated with the current tenants about us buying the wardrobe, curtains and patio furniture from them.  We agreed on a price and then they just started throwing in everything else for free: shelves, light fixtures (including two pink mini-chandeliers), microwave, mini-oven, kitchen table and shiny red BBQ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It feels like Christmas; there are visions of sugar plums dancing in my head!  Am I going to wake up from this dream?  Agh!  No, it’s real!!!!   

Here's the estate.  There will be real pictures once we actually move in.

(P.S.  I really encourage all my unemployed/under-employed teacher friends to take a leap of faith and move to Hong Kong… you can’t beat this life!)

Open Letter to the United States

Dear U.S.,

I’m not from the United States (though I love your beautiful country), but I can’t say as though I’m a completely impartial bystander with this whole election business.  I had a clear favourite and I’m pleased with the outcome (as pleased as one can be when only given two choices).  I am, however, going to try to remain impartial here because I have a message for the people of the United States that transcends a four or eight year term in office.

Overall, I’ve been absolutely disgusted with some of the behavior I’ve seen both before and after the election.  (Did we really make fried chicken and Oreos into a political bargaining tool?!  For the record, I don’t eat fried chicken because I’m a vegetarian.  I do, however, eat Oreos because they’re pretty darn awesome.)  

There have been downright vicious arguments and attacks all over Facebook.  Someone writes in their status “I’m happy Obama won” and that status garners responses that are so atrocious I won’t repeat them here.  Um, don’t you have freedom of speech?  I don’t think it’s a crime to be happy about the outcome of an election and to voice your opinion.  I even saw a few people’s profile pictures flying an inverted flag: a sign of distress. Clever way to show how you feel, but you are not in distress.  If you live in the United States, were able to make it to the voting polls and then post about it on Facebook via your iPhone, you are NOT in distress.  Get some perspective. 

There has, however, been some comic relief. 

“Obama won.  I’m just going to leave this country… maybe go to Alaska.”  Please pick up an atlas or map.  Did you know that U.S. citizens’ geography knowledge is a joke worldwide?

“If Obama wins, I’m just going to give up on America and move to Canada.”  You are in the United States, we are in Canada.  Together, we are both part of America.  And need I remind you that in Canada we have socialized medicine (and it’s awesome), gay marriage and marijuana. 

It’s easy to point fingers at Republicans for poor behaviour right now, but before you do, look in the mirror and admit to yourselves that had Romney won, you’d be doing the same thing.

Please research the health care reform before judging it.  Many developing countries have subsidized health care.  It’s really wonderful to have your appendix out or have a baby without taking out a loan.  Imagine the burden removed from a family struggling with a loved one’s cancer treatment if they didn’t have to remortgage their house.  I understand there are a few clauses in the health reform that some people aren’t fond of.  That’s fine, I don’t like the wording either… but look at the big picture and the greater good for everyone.  Catch up to the rest of the free world.  If you do some research and still don’t like it, that’s fine.  Be glad you have that freedom to openly disagree, to protest, or to petition your government.

I would like to echo Obama’s sentiments from his victory speech.  The fact is, neither candidate is evil.  They are both men who want what is best for you.  They may have slightly different ideas as to what is best or how to achieve it, but they really do have the best interests of the nation at heart.  Unlike some past presidents, neither of these men seems hell-bent on destruction.  Obama had quite the mess to clean up and he’s done well with what he was given.  It’s time to accept that these are the election results and move forward together.  You, the people, have spoken.   So Democrats, stop gloating.  Republicans, stop whining.    I'm not saying you shouldn't celebrate or complain, but do it with class.  It’s time to unite and make your world, and the world at large, a better place.

And be grateful you can exercise your democratic right to vote.   Be thankful you have that choice. 

Lots of love,

Canada

Me, 4 years ago.  (I know I said I was trying to be impartial, but, so what, I failed.)

The Wonderful World of... Toilets

I’d never thought about doing a blog on toilets before, but the other day, my toilet in my apartment decided to overflow from a stupidly placed escape valve on the side of the tank and flood the whole bathroom.  Thankfully it was clean water.  Initially, I freaked out because I keep boxes of supplies from Canada under the sink and everything was drenched.  How was I going to survive two years without a bottle of Tums or my Neti Pot sinus rinse solution?!  Luckily, I was able to salvage everything.  This lead to a conversation with my uncle about toilets which then lead me to believe that perhaps toilets are, indeed, something to “write home about”.  It should be noted that I don’t really have a lot in the way of toilet photos, but I feel that visuals are necessary in the post so I'm going to use other people’s pictures from the internet.

HONG KONG: EAST MEETS WEST IN THE WASHROOM

My biggest fear in moving to Asia was the toilet situation.  I’d heard such horror stories (and now I do have some of my own, but it no longer terrifies me.  Actually, it doesn't bother me at all.)  I stepped off the plane in Hong Kong and had to pee.  It was bound to happen sooner or later but I was hoping to at least get through immigration first.  Nonetheless, I cautiously approached the bathroom, expecting the worst, and was relieved to find that there were stalls upon stalls of that old familiar porcelain.  Ok, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. 

Depending on where you go in Hong Kong, you will have no problem finding a western toilet.  In fact, it’s very common for hotels, restaurants and malls to have very fancy washrooms with attendants who clean the porcelain throne the very second you are done using it.  Just last night, I used the washroom in the Peninsula Hotel and was greeted by a 60 year old lady in a French maid uniform.  Interesting, but not terrifying in the least.  (Well, maybe terrifying for her… that can’t be a good job.)   Western toilets are a common but relatively new thing in Hong Kong so some people prefer to use them as they would squatters.  It’s not entirely uncommon to see footprints on the toilet seat as someone perches 2.5 feet above the ground to do their business.  This even happens at work. 

So what about squatters?  We have plenty of those too.  Public washrooms in Hong Kong (ones on street corners, in parks, at beaches) usually have a choice between squatter and western.  Hong Kong squatters are actually fairly nice.  There is a standing platform made of porcelain or stainless steel.  They also have grating to prevent you from standing in your own, um, missed aims.  Using a squatty potty is an act of delicate balance and precise coordination.  You have to hold your clothes up and out of harm’s way (particularly pant legs!), balance your bags on your legs or across your shoulders, and have one hand ready with Kleenex as this is not a supplied thing and you won’t be able to dig through your bag for it afterwards.  Never go anywhere in Asia without your own stash of tissue in your purse! 

Well, that’s in Hong Kong, arguably the most westernized place in Asia.  Not every place has the choice.  It all sounds awful, and the first few times it really was… but now I'm so used to it, it honestly doesn't faze me at all.    

Typical squatty potty as found in Hong Kong

THAILAND: NOZZLE TOWN

Our first trip away from Hong Kong was to mystical Thailand… land of coconuts, pad Thai, elephants and the spray nozzle.  You can imagine our surprise when we found our hotel didn’t supply toilet paper.  A few days in, they started leaving the tiniest rolls ever on our sink counter, but that was worth one, maybe two, trips to the washroom.  Instead, beside the (western) toilet, was a hose.  We thought it was part of the shower, but it turns out, it was in lieu of toilet paper.  Didn’t use this… just bought Kleenex.  At this point, I should explain our confusion about thinking it was part of the shower.  In most parts of Asia that I’ve been to, it is very common to have an open shower head near the toilet… no tub or stall… you just move your stuff out of the way, shower, and eventually the bathroom will dry off.  (We have a separate bathtub in our apartment and consider ourselves very lucky.)  I soon learned that this spray nozzle was a luxury.

Toilet/shower combo in our hotel

Spray nozzle in a public washroom in Thailand

CHINA: NOT ALL WALLS ARE SO GREAT

China is a fascinating place (and I have the privilege to return in 22 days).  It is ancient, red and grey, with a touch of magic.  It’s a place where time has truly stood still; their culture is deeply rooted in traditions that have been steadfast for centuries.  This is also true when it comes to toilets.  Most toilets I've encountered in China are little more than holes in the ground.  If you are lucky, these holes are surrounded by enough grey bricks to give you some privacy.  (This is obviously a bring your own tissue sort of situation.) 

Small villages have community washrooms.  These are open-air brick houses that everyone shares.  These are not pleasant places… the stench is unbelievable and it’s often quite cold, but when you've gotta go…
  

So, what happens if you have to go but the community bathroom is full?  You just go anywhere.  This starts from a very young age (there are no diapers... just a flap in the back of your pants) and doesn't seem to stop.  They will do their business on the sidewalk and just keep on going about their day.

This behaviour then leaves the villages, migrates to the city and even makes its way to Hong Kong by way of tourists.  And I don’t just mean a discrete Number 1 by night in a dark alley.  I mean full drop your trousers Number 2 at midday in Tiananmen Square.  No shame.

This is my photo from outside the community washroom in the small village of Xingping.

Luckily, for those who are a little more reserved, there are plenty easily accessible public washrooms in Chinese cities.  My experiences in Chinese public washrooms have been less than stellar.  Once, I was in a very grey hutong (alley) in Beijing (I really can’t believe what a grey place it is) when the urge hit.  I found a hutong public toilet and, to my utter horror, found that the wall between each of the basic squatters was about 2 feet high.  I walked in and took my place towards the end of the row of holes, placed about a foot apart, and began the nearly comical balancing act required by squatting in the winter.  An elderly lady was to my right (how do old people squat like that?!) and a young teen, blaring music on her iPhone, was to my left.  At least the music was a distraction.  I finished, while avoiding eye contact in such close proximity and declared to my husband that it had easily been the worst washroom experience of my life.  That stands true to this day, even after having travelled through India last year.

A public washroom in Beijing.  This one looks comparatively spacious and bright.

INDIA: LEFTY WASHY, RIGHTY EATY

India, in some ways, wasn't as bad as China, but in other ways it was oh so much worse. 

The pros: there is more privacy in India.  Each public toilet is in its own stall with adequate walls around it.  Um, I guess that’s really the only ‘pro’ but I find it to be so important that it outweighs the cons.

The cons: Again, I stress, when in Asia, B.Y.O.TP.  In India, one uses their left hand (that's right, HAND)…and some water from a conveniently placed jug or trough, if you are so lucky.  I didn't do this.  Being well-travelled by this point, I knew enough to bring ample rolls.  And sanitizer.  Another ‘con’ in India was the smell of the stall.  Take a Chinese village community toilet, raise the temperature by 82 degrees Fahrenheit (I'm not even kidding, I just did the math) and you've got yourself an Indian public toilet.  And then there are the bugs.  Everywhere.  And then there was the added difficulty of wearing extremely large legged (modest) pants and a long, flowy head cover.  That’s a whole lot of stuff to keep wrapped up in your arms while you squat precariously above a very filthy trench (no porcelain grating to protect your feet here!)

Well, this is a particularly nice Indian toilet.  I never saw one this nice.  You can see the jug for water and appreciate the door for privacy.

However, India was such a friendly and mesmerizing country that it really just didn't seem that bad at the time.  I'm pretty positive there were much worse toilets in India, but we had hired a driver and I think he went out of his way to bring us to the most acceptable ones.  I guess I've become a bit of a veteran squatter at this point.  I’d be surprised if anything could shock me, toilet-wise, in this whole world now.  I feel like I've seen and done the worst of it, and that won’t stop me from coming back for more.

Does It Really Smell As Sweet?

This blog post will be little more than a list, but I just thought I should share some of my students’ “English names” with you.  Some are hilarious.  Some (though not particularly funny) are unexpectedly popular.  And others are just plain bizarre or even cool.  Chinese people typically have 3 names.  The last name (surname) is listed first, followed by the first and middle name.  And most now have an unofficial English name that is sometimes changed frequently.  So a student named Wong Sze Man with an English name of Kim becomes Kim Wong.  It should be noted that Sze Man is pronounced “semen” and is a very popular Chinese name that I can’t say without blushing.  Oh, my western sensitivities…

Ok, here’s the list:

Kinda Cool

-Rix
-Neo
-Bosco

-Nash

Strangely Popular

-Enoch
-Dick
-Apple
-Cherry
-Esther

Just Odd

-Pinky, Winky and Minky (sisters)
-Yoyo (at least it’s not YOLO?  Give it a few years…)
-Wammy
-Medy
-Anner
-Cardi
-Carwan
-So-So
-Andfield
-Isaddei
-Elodie
-Packo and Parko (I think one is a mispronunciation of the other)
-Hendry
-Noddy
-Sily

Random Spanglishese (?!)

-Lolita (who is pretty much the cutest kid ever)
-Hugo
-Sonia Santana Alamo (Well, that's a mouthful!)

Misspellings and Misunderstandings

-Arron (Aaron)
-Cocoa/Seventeen (As if Cocoa isn’t already an unfortunate name for a 12 year old, somewhere along the line, her student number -17- got placed in the name column on a list and now all the teachers call her that.  She’s too shy to correct them.)
-Candy (This is a boy.  I convinced him to change it to Kenny.)
-Merlin (This is a girl.  I convinced her to change it to Marilyn last year, but now she is going by Merlyn again, this time with a ‘y’, at least.)
-Twinkle (A boy… but he is very young so it’s still cute.  I’ll talk to him about a name change in a few years.)

Let's Talk About the Weather

(Disclaimer:  Having grown up on the Canadian/U.S. border in the 80’s, I talk about temperature in Fahrenheit.  My apologies to the rest of the world.)

Everyone loves a nice pumpkin space latté (decaf with soy milk for me, please) to ring in the fall.  Wishful thinking.  We all know that pumpkin spice lattés only happen when the leaves turn crunchy, you’re wearing a sweater, and the air turns sweet and crisp.  So, what happens if you live in the tropics and it’s still 90 degrees half-way through October?  No pumpkin spice lattés here!  If you’re a Canadian transplant, you rent a boat for your October 18th birthday and spend the day splashing in the water and basking in the sun with friends.  If you’re a local, you put on your parka and batten down the hatches; you’re in for a long winter.

I guess tolerance of hot and cold weather largely depends on where you’ve grown up and what you’re acclimatized to.  Quite a few years ago, I spent a snowy, beautiful winter in Québec.  (I won’t say how many years ago because, with my birthday tomorrow, I’m feeling quite old!)  Even though there was more snow piled on my lawn than I’d seen in my whole life leading up to that winter, I didn’t feel particularly cold because I was very used to freezing winters, with the bitter lake-effect of the Great Lakes.  My roommate, on the other hand, was from temperate Vancouver Island.  When discussing our experience with Canadian winters, she famously stated about Vancouver Island that “a puddle froze once”.  A few years later (ok, it was a decade later!), I fell toque over boots for the North American west coast and moved to Vancouver Island.  I found I didn’t need a coat all winter (in fact, I hadn’t even bothered to bring one).  Meanwhile, the islanders flocked to the grocery store in droves to stock up on toilet paper and canned beans if there was even mention that the mercury would dip below 40 degrees.  You can never be too prepared.

In Hong Kong, it’s a different story altogether and I must admit that I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around some of it.  Differing tolerances and ideas of hot and cold go so far beyond the outdoor temperature. 

  

Let’s start with summer.  The temperature here is unrecognizabley hot.  I’m not sure how hot it gets but with the humidity (which must be pushing 90%) and air pollution, I basically feel like I’m swimming in a cauldron of creamy soup from around May till, let’s say, two days ago.  Now that the temperature has dropped to a more comfortable 88 degrees, the doorman in my building has started wearing a jacket and my students turn into little icicles if I so much as turn on the ceiling fan.  Not to be unsympathetic, but I told them they need to bring their sweaters to class because if I have to teach in a sauna, I will melt into a puddle of Miss Stephanie.  And puddles can’t teach phonics.

The other problem with summer is that the second I sneeze, people around me clamour to turn off the air conditioners and fans.  I sneeze a lot!  I have a dust allergy!  Even if I did have a cold, I wish cab drivers, shop owners and my co-workers would all realize that being cold doesn’t CAUSE a cold.  The fear of cold air and drafts is unfounded.  All turning off the air does is make me get super hot and miserable.  A few weeks back, I was co-teaching a class.  I started the class with a sneeze and this set into motion a 75 minute comedy routine between the other teacher and myself whereby we would take turns walking across the room to turn on (in my case) or off the ceiling fan and air conditioner.

Then there’s winter.  Yes, we actually do have a winter here… it gets down to about 50.  That’s quite pleasant but not when you work an 8 hour day with every window wide open!  This time, at least, the reason does make sense (I think).  Rather than be cooped up with everyone’s germs, you get a constant flow of fresh air.  This is great in theory, and I think it works in my much more rural school, but the people who work in the densely populated areas can’t actually be getting fresh air by this method.  It doesn’t bother me at all…. I get to wear my cute winter toques and countdown to my next warm vacation. (53 days until Cambodia!)

The air in Hong Kong is dirty.  So dirty, in fact, that it has taken me two years to adjust to breathing it.  I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been sick since I’ve been here!  Surely, more times than in my entire life leading up to our move here.  I guess they expect people to have trouble adjusting because English teachers here get more paid sick days than we could ever possibly need.  I’m fairly sure my being sick is from the air quality and just being around so many children.  My co-workers are convinced it’s because I eat cold salad for lunch.  This is the same theory as with the air conditioning… cold begets colds.  I'm going to stick with my beliefs that raw veggies are good for me and just learn to accept the looks of "She sneezed earlier and now she's eating a carrot... she has it coming."     

P.S.  I know it’s not real fall here, but if anyone can tell me where to get a pumpkin spice latté in Hong Kong, I’d be eternally grateful.