My Christmas cactus, all grown up

My dad was very thoughtful to send me the following email:


Hi Kenny,

The Christmas cactus in the dining room is now blooming. See attached photo.

Dad


The Christmas cactus to which he was referring is, as you can see, almost as big as our dining room table. That's not how big it was when I bought it. In fact, it was about the size of my palm when I bought it.

I remember my parents bringing me and my siblings to a boring plant show at Van Dusen Gardens. Knowing them, they probably brought us on "Open Day", the one day of the year that the gardens were open for free. I remember them letting me buy a plant at the kiddie garden plant sale. I bought two plants: a tomato plant for 10 cents and a cactus for 5 cents. That was in 1987.

My Christmas cactus had three homes: on my desk, in the dining room, and when in full blossom, in the kitchen. I remember taking care of it once in a while, but mostly, it was my mom and grandma who watered it, trimmed it down, and even re-potted it several times. Over the years, the plant has gotten so big that my mom and grandma had to cut off several branches so that it wouldn't collapse.

When my grandma was still alive and was constantly moving between my family's house and those of my uncles, she gave branches of my cactus to my uncles. Today, these branches have become large cactii in their own right.

I'm not the most sentimental person in the world, but that picture really brought a tear to my eye.

The Pringles test

Pringles, the potato chips that are sold in cans, are among the few affordable junk food snacks I buy in Hong Kong. I prefer Cheetos, Doritos, and Ruffles, all of which are available here, but not as affordable. The average price of a 200 gram bag of the latter three is $17.50 HKD, which is nearly $3.00 CAD. Pringles, on the other hand, has been on discount for more than a month, and normally costs $9.50 HKD, less than $1.50 CAD. I've eaten more Pringles in the last month than I've eaten in my entire life.

One thing I hate about Pringles, however, is that most cans are filled with broken chips. Even though the cans may seem intact, the chips inside are usually not. What I've learned to do is to bring the cans to my ear and turn them upside down, allowing me to hear how many broken bits slide inside the can. I usually have to turn 10 cans upside down before I can find a can that has an acceptable casualty rate.

A few weeks ago, I was at Wellcome (one of the two dominant Hong Kong supermarket chains) at the Westwood (a luxury condominium complex near HKU), and was conducting my Pringles test. I forgot to mention that I sometimes turn my head when I do the Pringles test. On my fifth or sixth can, I turned around and saw a cute girl watching me. When she saw that I noticed her, she giggled, then continued along, pushing her shopping cart, and a few seconds later, turned around to take another look. By coincidence, I bumped into her at the check-out aisle. In fact, she was right in front of me. She turned around a couple of times and smiled. I didn't bother to start a conversation with her because 1. I didn't know what to say and 2. I was already unavailable at the time.

I always thought that my Pringle test would mark me as a weirdo, not a cutie.

"Get outta my way, goddammit!"

The longer I live in Asia, the more tired I am of crowds. Walking down the street is no longer a simple affair. Population densities can be so damned high in some of these cities that a typical day here can seem like a festival day in Vancouver.

I must admit that Hong Kong people are slightly better than people in Taiwan and Mainland China at getting out of other peoples' way. I must say that perhaps the majority of people who get in my way on the HKU campus and in Hong Kong's major shopping districts are from the Mainland. Just today, I was waiting to get into a lift at the KK Leung Building during rush hour, and when the lift came, the two guys (Mandarin-speaking) who got out of the lift first got out, then paused to chat with each other for 2 seconds, seemingly oblivious to the dozen people still in the lift waiting to get out and the 20-30 people in the lobby waiting to get into the lift. I couldn't believe it! And yes, I wanted to get violent.

Perhaps what I hate most is that so many people are oblivious to the fact that they're in the way. They have no idea that they are blocking the way on busy sidewalks, in bottlenecks, at store entrances, in the tight aisles of supermarkets, at crosswalks, at the top/bottom of escalators, and yes, in front of elevators.

My anger began five years ago in Taipei, during my first stint in Asia. Most of Taipei's sidewalks are half-filled with motorscooters, leaving a walking space wide enough for two people. In theory, this should be just enough for two-way pedestrian traffic, but sadly, this is not the case. Not everybody walks alone, and when people walk with their friends, many of them tend to walk parallel to each other. In Taipei, when I walk towards a couple of people walking parallel to each other, the vast majority would make absolutely no effort to get ouf of my way. Most would keep walking and cause me to stop, then there would be an awkward moment when we'd have to get out of each others' way. Ideally, people should file into a single-order line when they see oncoming pedestrians or when someone wants to pass. That's what I do when I walk with my friends. I even do that when I hold hands with my girlfriends.

Again, what pisses me off the most is that so many people are oblivious to the fact that they are in the way. When I want to pass people walking in front of me, I usually give them 10-15 seconds to realise that someone behind them wants to pass. In Taiwan, I got so tired of waiting that I began to master the arts of stepping on heels, tripping people with umbrellas, and barrelling my way through gracefully. Of course, I sometimes employed the "excuse me" method, but I usually followed through by muttering, "idiots.." as I passed.

Yes, the longer I stayed in Taipei, the less patient I became. Rather than stopping and getting out of the way of oncoming pedestrians, I began to keep walking and let my shoulders do the talking. In fact, I began to discreetly focus my weight onto my shoulders at the moment of impact. I got a lot of dirty looks, but I always returned these looks with a half-innocent, half-belligerent look. No, no one messed with me in Taipei. I was told that Chen Shui-bian kicked all of the gangsters out of Taipei City when he was mayor, so I wasn't afraid of being swarmed by a dozen armed louts. Oh, I also didn't do this to old people (or pregnant women or young children). Any old ethnic Chinese person who lived through the war went through tough times no matter where they were, unless they were collaborators.

Something else that pissed me off about Taiwanese people was that when they exited shops, they never bothered to see if there were people walking on the sidewalks. Again, I just kept walking, usually barrelling people over. I know this is terrible, but I felt that I was on a civilizing mission to teach these people to watch where they were going.

Things were slightly different in China. I was actually quite discriminatory in Beijing. For some reason, I left the blue-collar workers alone, probably because I've done a lot of research on them and I really pity and admire them. Construction workers, restaurant staff, people who work in hair salons and supermarkets, etc., and people who sell fruit and scavenge for salvagable trash, make very little money, live very hard lives, and their families depend on them - city folk generally treat them like shit. On the other hand, I treated rich people like shit. Well, it's not that I hate rich people, but I hate rich people who think they're better than everyone else because they have money. Still, I wasn't as bad in Beijing as I was in Taipei, maybe because I was never too sure who had money and who didn't.

Because I know a lot more people in Hong Kong than I did in Beijing and Taipei, I really don't want to create a negative image of myself. Imagine my supervisor seeing me get into silly arguments and fights. Imagine my friends' parents seeing me behaving so boorishly. Imagine a stranger seeing me act violently, and the stranger turns out to be someone who will interview me for a job, or is the head of the University Grants Committee. Yeah, I'll try to behave myself in Hong Kong.

Need a new racquet

I think I'm going to invest in a relatively nice badminton racquet. My old one wasn't bad, but I've tried my friends' racquets, and with some of them, it's as though there's a spring in them to make hits more powerful. Well, today's events presented me an opportunity to buy a new racquet: I destroyed my racquet today when it slipped out of my hand while I was going for a smash. My bitchy badminton instructor always told me to relax until just before the moment of contact with the shuttlecock. Unfortunately, sweaty palms and a powerful smash don't mix well. My racquet hit the floor hard. The face bent backwards at a 15% angle and the rim cracked.

The $23 CAD ($150 HKD) I paid for 8 badminton lessons was well worth it. Learning the basics was a very good idea. Outside of class, my friends have been shocked at my progress in the last couple of weeks, and some are afraid of my backhand. Every time I play against someone who's better than me, I adopt some of their strategies. In recent weeks, I've learned how to make gentle shots where the shuttlecock just goes over the net (and drops to the ground immediately afterwards), make my opponents run around the court, feign short and long serves, and exactly when to smash. Of course, I still have lots to learn, but I'm no longer the suckiest guy on the court.

Can anyone suggest a reasonably-priced racquet? Does anyone have anything against any particular brand or material? Should I go for carbon, graphite, titanium, or what? I think I can spend around $300 HKD/ $50 CAD.

Hong Kong people: fashionable, or fashion-conscious?

All of my life, I've heard that Hong Kong people are among the most fashionable people in the world. Now that I've lived in Hong Kong for a while, and now that I'm a bit older and wiser, I'd like to challenge this notion and to demote Hong Kong people from "fashionable" to merely "fashion-conscious".

What's the difference between being fashionable and fashion-conscious? I believe that to be fashionable is to be on top of fashion trends and to be able to discern between what is tasteful and what is not. Perhaps the most brave and cutting-edge, such as Madonna, are willing to push the envelope, but extremely few people fit in that category. To be fashion-conscious, on the other hand, seems to mean simply being aware of one's own appearance, but not necessarily being tasteful or discriminating about it.

Hong Kong (as well as most developed places in Asia) is a place where the nouveau riche and the aspiring nouveau riche make up the bulk of the population. The nouveau riche, or "newly rich", like to show off their wealth, some of them rather eager to proclaim that they are not poor and that their newfound wealth has brought them social status and respectability. In their minds, because they have money, and because they can afford expensive things, they are better than they were before, and they are better than people who cannot afford expensive things. All too often, I hear people show off how proud they are of paying too much for things. Some so-called friends of mine made fun of me for wearing plain white t-shirts from Giordano that cost about $5 CAD, while showing off the silly t-shirts they were wearing, t-shirts in the $20-30 CAD range that sport silly nonsensical words like "Christmas Hotdog!", t-shirts that may have been imported from Japan and designed by cool designers employed by companies like Esprit. I bit my tongue. No use saying anything. You can't win when you argue against stupid people who don't know that they're stupid.

Unfortunately, Hong Kong peoples' desire to show off their wealth is not matched by their sense of taste. Hong Kong people are very very conscious of luxury brands, perhaps more than people in any other place in the world. EVERYBODY, including Filipino maids, schoolchildren, grandparents, and ESPECIALLY girls and women of all ages, knows of all of the luxury brands out there. Hong Kong people like to say, "___ is 'in' this year." How do they know? They read it in magazines, watch it on TV, and they see what their favourite celebrities are wearing.

Let's face it: Hong Kong people are suckers. The Taiwanese, Korean, and PRC housewives who buy $1000 USD purses, and expensive cosmetics are suckers. Fools. Fodder for marketing departments. Consumers who foolishly part with their money in exchange for overpriced things they do not need. Suckers who buy what they are told to buy.


To be fair, I must say that while Hong Kong people tend to be more fashion-conscious than people in Taiwan, China, and South Korea, at least they're relatively less foolish than the people in the aforementioned places. In South Korea and Taiwan, for example, it seems that nearly half of the women in their forties and fifties dye their hair orange and try to dress and act as though they're teenagers. I can't help but chuckle when I see such women, most of whom are beyond help, buying expensive cosmetics at department stores. They think they look GOOD like that? I think they look more like circus clowns. If I ever become a gigalo, I'd have to charge 5 figures (USD) if they ever want my services. I'd probably need a lot of liquid courage, and even a little blue pill or two, to do the job.

In some ways, Hong Kong has always been ahead of the curve, but only because of a small group of refined people who have adopted the best of British tastes. They know exactly how to tie a tie, which tie patterns and colours are appropriate and which are not, exactly how long the sleeves of a shirt and coat should be, etc. These are people who own Church's hand-made English leather shoes rather than Kenneth Coles, and get their shirts and suits tailored rather than buy off-the-rack Versace. They prefer the classic designs of Aquascutum, Lanvin, and Gieves and Hawkes to flashier and more trendy designs of Kenzo, Paul Smith, and DKNY. When such people buy things, their concerns are respectability, craftsmanship, and perhaps even durability and value-for-money. These people also understand that haute couture is not for everyday people or everyday wear, and that only mobile phone salesmen wear purple shirts. An important thing to note is that the higher you go up the occupation ladder, the more you dress like these such people.

To go a bit off topic here, I don't know why such fashion houses even have fashion shows, the kind in which models strut down runways, if no one is going to wear that stuff anyway. If you pay $100-200 USD for a pair of jeans, how much goes to the "designer", how much goes to the people in Bangladesh or China who sew the jeans together, and how much goes to the supermodels employed by these labels? Do you really want to subsidize the lavish lifestyle of the Versace family, or of models who think they are better than you because they THINK they are more beautiful than you? What's wrong with $20 USD jeans? Or $5 USD jeans, for that matter? The Bangladeshis and Chinese seamstresses will make the same amount anyway. And how complicated is it to design a basic plain t-shirt or undershirt? Why do people buy Armani t-shirts and undershirts, and why do they spend $20-30 USD on them? Undershirts are worn underneath clothes, anyway.

If you're not going to be either fashionable or fashion-conscious, at least try to be sensible.

Axworthy and the Stinker

Today, former Canadian Minister of Foreign Affairs Lloyd Axworthy gave a talk on Human Security, emphasizing the "Right to Protect" (R2P). Nothing new. Besides, his talk was a bit boring because he lost his talking points and he had a bad cold. Still, I respect the guy for his achievements. Oh yes, about half of the fifty people in attendance were Canadians.

The venue was the "Senate Chamber" of the Knowles Building. This particular senate chamber is cool because the seats are arranged in a circle, with two or three rows. There was a very very beautiful girl (who happens to be my girlfriend) sitting in the seat across from me, but a bald, chunky Aussie researcher at my department was sitting in front of her, so it was hard to check her out during the talk. Hard if I didn't want the Aussie researcher thinking that I'm into him.

The most memorable thing about this talk was the guy sitting next to me, a guy also named Kenneth (and also a Canadian) who recently earned his PhD from the Centre of Asian Studies. Ken sat beside me when he saw that the seat was empty. Don't ask me why my girlfriend didn't sit beside me. Anyway, this guy, a big and tall fat guy, had terrible terrible body odour, and he kept doing annoying things: he took off his glasses and rubbed his oily face, picked his ears, coughed without covering his mouth, and scratched his head. All I could think about was that I probably had to shake this guy's hand afterwards. What's worse was that he borrowed my pen. Afterwards, all I could think about was the oil from his face on my pen. If I weren't such a cheapo, I would have binned the pen right away.

Ken's a nice guy, but Three Strikes is Three Strikes. Actually, that's FIVE Strikes.

KC, you were there, sitting right behind me. Was I visibly frustrated?

"Get a room!" A handicapped toilet, perhaps?

A friend of mine who's Senior Hall Tutor at one of the brand new residential halls at HKU invited me and a bunch of friends for dinner at her flat (at the hall). My friend is responsible for three female floors at this hall. During dinner, I asked her to tell her about the naughty girls who live at the hall and the naughty things they do - I stopped short of asking her for their names and telephone numbers, though. Anyway, my friend told me some very amusing stories about residents' sexcapades, including several girls who got kicked out of the hall for having male overnight visitors, some of them within days of moving in!

The most amusing thing about this new hall is that there are handicapped toilets on every floor, in addition to separate public toilets that have several stalls and urinals. There are no handicapped residents at this hall. Since residents share double rooms (i.e. two beds in one bedroom) and have no privacy, these handicapped toilets now have an unintended function.

Honestly, I'd be a bit embarrassed to walk out of a washroom with a girl. I've never been on an airplane with a girlfriend, and I don't know if I'd join the "Mile-High Club" because there are usually people lining up to use the toilet. If my girlfriend walks out of the toilet first and somebody in line tries to go in while I'm still inside.. well, you get the picture. This kind of spontaneous thing seems fun and exciting, but facing people afterwards, the cramped size of the toilets, and the potential smell.. they all put me off. Besides, it's a TOILET!

Wow, I'd better stop here before I start getting TOO personal.

"Hold the lift!"

Something I absolutely hate about Hong Kong people is their lack of patience. This is most evident when taking the lift. I absolutely hate it when thd lift door opens, then promptly closes. I can even see the sonofabitch inside repeatedly pressing the "door close" button! It doesn't help that the "door close" button causes the door to close immediately, quite unlike North America, where there's usually a delay of 2-3 seconds. The person inside presses the button even though he or she can see me directly in front of the elevator door.

Anyway, I usually stick my hand into the elevator to push the panel on the inside of the elevator door that is located between the shaft door and the car door, the panel that causes the door to open if pushed. If I want to become more dramatic, or if my hands are full, I can kick this panel. If the person inside has pushed the "door close" button, I usually give them a disappointed glance, look towards the ceiling, shake my head, and make a "tsk tsk" sound. Sometimes, I may mutter "what an asshole."

In the future, if I get out of the lift before the "door close" person does, I just might press all of the floors just to make sure they enjoy an extra-long ride. So rushed that they couldn't let me walk in the door in peace, huh?

I love BusinessWeek

BusinessWeek is great. You should definitely sign up for the free weekly email alerts. I've learned a lot of neat things from reading BW articles, the most memorable of which include Samsung's design revolution and Hyundai's commitment to quality in the last couple of years. Just look at how those companies have outpaced Sony and Toyota, respectively (GO KOREA!).

This is what I read today:
http://www.businessweek.com/bwdaily/dnflash/nov2005/nf20051110_5243_db016.htm?campaign_id=topStories_nws_14Nov&link_position=6

Although they don't disclose it in their financial filings, the real earnings engine at Best Buy and Circuit City is not the sale of gadgets themselves but the sale of warranties. Those are the high-priced, multiyear protection plans on TVs, computers, and other items that are hawked by the retailers' salespeople at the close of each purchase.

Cool! I had no clue!

And if you want to find out "How the Swedish Retailer (IKEA) became a global cult brand", check out:

http://www.businessweek.com/magazine/content/05_46/b3959001.htm?campaign_id=nws_insdr_nov4&link_position=link1

COOL!

On the Wealth and Poverty of Ken

I sometimes wonder whether or not I will "make it" in the conventional sense, which for most people means material wealth and financial security. Among Chinese people, my career path and my lifestyle is rather unconventional, but most of my friends and family do expect me to settle down one day. Something that bothers me is that most of the Chinese people I know consider the time and money (mostly time) I've spent on my education as an investment that will yield high returns, money-wise. I'm really not so sure about that.

Some of my friends my age, and some a bit younger than me, really are "making it". The ones who studied Accounting, Business Administration, Pharmacy, and Engineering are doing quite well with steady jobs and steady incomes, and some are even starting families and buying homes; those who studied Computer Sciences and Economics aren't doing as well as they expected to, and one buddy who just finished his MBA, a very very bright guy named Vince (whom you may know as "Cosmic Ocean"), is in the unfortunate Catch-22 situation of "no experience, no job - no job, no experience." It seems most of my friends chose to engage in further education, and some of us are in our eight year of university. Those still studying Law and Medicine are generally in a bit of debt or will face some financial limbo, but they have no doubt about their future careers as legal and medical professionals.

I, on the other hand, am a PhD student in the Social Sciences. It doesn't help that I'm not a scholar of any one particular discipline. When I apply for jobs, it would help if I could define myself as a Sociologist, a Geographer, a Political Scientist, etc, but instead, I will not appear to be an expert on any one particular discipline. Furthermore, I will graduate from the University of Hong Kong, and though HKU has illustrious faculty members, excellent research facilities, generous levels of funding (and alumni contributions), and world-class facilities, the truth is that in North American and European academic circles, any school outside of North America and Europe is considered peripheral. Long story short, there's no way in hell I can ever possibly become a professor at UBC. Would I really want to become a lecturer at the University College of the Cariboo? Or at the University of South Mississippi? Looking at the list of faculty members at HKU, CUHK, and the HKUST (the so-called "Big Three" universities in Hong Kong), the vast majority of faculty members earned their PhD's at the top 30 schools in the US and the top 5 schools in the UK. Almost none earned their PhD's in Hong Kong. Things look a bit grim on this front.

Well, I've considered all of this before enrolling at HKU. First of all, there are other opportunities open to me. For example, I can still live a comfortable and respectable life as a "research officer" or a "lecturer", whether at a university, a college, or a research institute. Perhaps not in Canada, but I know the pay can be quite good in Singapore or Hong Kong. Also, I can probably become a university professor in China, though my salary would be very low (while prices in China are only getting higher), and it would be quite tough to find universities that have English-language instruction. I will also quite likely work in the non-academic world, perhaps for a press agency, a think tank, or maybe even as a freelance researcher or writer. I can even create my own opportunities by establishing an "Institute for Migration Studies" at HKU or at another major university in the region.

The second reason why I insisted on pursuing my PhD at HKU is that I don't regard a PhD as a means to an end, but as an end in itself. I'm very happy to have the privilege of engaging in research, to contribute to the intellectual discourse in my subject area, and to possibly change the world, albeit just a little bit. This is a big deal for me, and though it may be hard work, it is also fun and rewarding. If I die the day after I earn my PhD, I will have died a happy man.

The third reason why I chose to study at HKU is because despite my grim job prospects after graduation, and despite the possibility of never being able to attain material wealth in my lifetime, I know that I can be happy with living a simple life. Over the years, I've learned to live modestly. I don't need top-of-the-line electronics, a German automobile, a mansion in a ritzy part of town, name brand clothes, and fancy watches to be happy. This is not to say that I can live without money, or that I have absolutely no expensive tastes and habits - travel and dining ain't free - but I know that I can control my spending on the frivolous. Having said that, I'd still like to earn enough money to be able to repair or replace household applicances and automobiles, pay for any medical expenses for my parents (and later, for myself), ensure that my parents and my in-laws live comfortable lives, provide my children with a quality education (both in and outside of the classroom), and to be able to afford anything I want.

Que sera sera?

Preparing for the WTO Ministerial Conference

As some of you may know, some bigwigs are coming to Hong Kong in mid-December for some big WTO conference. The local authorities are anticipating the arrival of up to 10,000 protesters. I think the foolish professional demonstrators will be shocked by how expensive hotel rooms can be in Hong Kong. Then again, they'll probably stay in shitholes like those found in Chungking Mansions.

I'm a bit tired of these professional demonstrators. It's usually the same people at all these different demonstrations. Though they are articulate and motivated, I find that they are usually stubborn and misinformed. Perhaps most importantly, I think that their methods are far from constructive. What good does it do to blame Hu Jintao on the Tiananmen Square Massacre when he had nothing to do with it? Why insist on immediate democratisation of China when it would bring utter chaos? On the other hand, one thing they succeed in doing is they MIGHT raise awareness of certain issues. However, because of their annoying tactics and their gung-ho attitudes, they offend fence-sitters like me. I feel exactly the same way about pan-Green Taiwanese politicians.

I remember the riot at the 1997 APEC Summit, which was held at UBC. Hell, I was THERE! Well, not exactly. I had a Math tutorial that day, and went to the protest site to check it out. By the time the police were pepper spraying the more rowdy of protesters, I was already in class.

I noticed one very interesting preventative measure while walking around Causeway Bay the other day: all sidewalk tiles were glued down to the sidewalk. I wondered why the cracks between the tiles were glistening, and my friend pointed out that this was a measure aimed to prevent demonstrators from throwing these tiles at the police.

Battle in Seattle. _____ in Hong Kong?

Summer in November

This is getting ridiculous.

My friends in Beijing are probably wearing winter coats now, probably even thermal underwear, scarves, gloves, and hats.

Those of you in Vancouver have probably started turning on your heaters in your cars and in your houses. You probably see frost on the grass when you leave your house in the mornings.

In Hong Kong, I'm still wearing shorts. I still turn on the air conditioner 24 hours a day. Am I in hell?

We had a brief respite from the heat for a couple of days two weeks ago, but daytime temperatures have since returned to 30 degrees celsius (the high 80's, in case you still use the idiotic fahrenheit system, you dumb Yanks!), and it only cools down to about 23 or so at night.

Perhaps my body is telling my brain that it's still summer vacation, and maybe THAT'S why I haven't been able to get much work done.

Pigs at Movie Night

I thought I was really smart. I really thought I solved the problem this time, but I was wrong.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a regular at the Graduate House Friday Night Movie Nights - the same jerk who borrowed, lent out, scratched, and got splash marks on my DVD - piled potato chips onto his plate, and it was a big plate, around 25 to 30 cm in diameter. I immediately thought of buying smaller plates, about 15 cm in diameter.

This week, I bought the smaller plates, and since Pringles were on sale ($9.50 HKD per can) but Lays were not (original price: more than $17 HKD), I bought two cans of Pringles. With my vantage point, I was able to see who got up to get snacks and approximately how much they got. This one girl came for the movie about 30 min after the movie started. She poured herself a drink and filled a plate with Pringles. I noticed that she took quite a bit, and she kept eating at the table, never bothering to sit down. I went over to the table to say hello, and was shocked to see half a can of Pringles on her plate! I remarked, "Wow, that's a lot!", thinking she'd be embarrassed. Instead, she replied, "Well, I like them." I couldn't believe it! What was even more unbelievable was that after 15 minutes of stuffing her face with chips, she walked out the door!

It then occurred to me that I see this girl regularly, and she's late every time, and she leaves early every time. I thought only one pig attends the movie screenings, but there are in fact two. I'm going to give her one warning, and if she still keeps hogging chips and taking off before the movie ends, I'm going to shame her publicly.

Hello again, dear Martha

Today, I participated in the opening ceremony of HKU's "Global Lounge", a really really cool new lounge area that features international newspapers from around the world, a dozen flat-screen TV's that air foreign programs, a cyber cafe, a gym, and really really comfy sofas. The university hopes that the Global Lounge will be a meeting place for international students, exchange students, and Hong Kong students who are interested in meeting such people. By the way, the Global Lounge is on the ground floor of the Swire Building, which also houses Swire Hall, so I have the feeling that it will soon be overrun with Swireans. Well, since the Centre of Asian Studies is just next door, I'll still use it, Swire-dominated or not.

The opening ceremony was quite a grand affair, with extensive media coverage and a long list of VIP guests, among them the 21 university chancellors/presidents of the Universitas 21 network. As some of you may know, UBC is a member institution of U21 (http://www.universitas21.com/), which meant that President Martha Piper was in attendance. After the opening ceremony, I made my way to the VIP seats and chatted with President Piper, mentioning that I'm a UBC grad and that I'm doing my PhD at HKU. She asked me what I'm studying here, and what I studied at UBC. Then, she asked me if my education at UBC prepared me well for my education abroad and for postgraduate studies. Could you believe it? She was fishing for compliments! I can smell this sort of thing from miles away, because I'm quite guilty of doing this myself sometimes. What could I say? I smiled, nodded, and said "Yes, my education at UBC prepared me VERY well for this." Then, she asked about the quality of education and research at HKU, to which I replied that HKU does a better job of teaching methodology and the fundamentals of thesis writing, whereas UBC is very much "sink or swim". Then, she got touchy and said, "Well, the vast majority of universities are like that...", but before she finished, I said, "Yes, 'sink or swim' has its merits." I guess I didn't want to sound like a baby who needs more supervision, but perhaps it's too late.

Old Martha is resigning, right? I think people really give her a hard time. I don't mind that she's paid what she's paid. After all, she's done quite well as a fundraiser, right? And she has to be a pretentious bitch and has to give lame speeches - it's part of her job.

"Literally"

I wrote about this before in one of my big emails: http://www.slate.com/id/2129105/nav/tap1/

I just wish I wrote an article on it and sent it to www.slate.com

Sigh..

High Table Dinner

Graduate House held its first "High Table Dinner" of the 2005-2006 academic year last night. As Student Representative and Chairman of the Residents' Committee, I was seated at the head table along with members of the management committee, the Master, and the guest of honour. The guest of honour was a boring stuck-up lady, director of some Taiwanese cultural office in Hong Kong. She gave a boring speech about how culture and politics are separate matters; I retorted by saying that Taiwanese people can simultaneously feel more Chinese than people in China, but at the same time be increasingly assertive of non-Chineseness, and ALL of it is politically motivated and sometimes even government-sponsored.

Dinner was nice. It was nice to have a free dinner, and pretty tasty meat. I had the New Zealand lamb steak, which was a good size, grilled perfectly, and well-seasoned. A lot of people had the seared duck breast, but everybody who did complained that it was undercooked.

Anyway, I think High Table Dinners are a good idea. Every residential hall and even some faculties and departments have them. They're formal affairs in which residents, hall tutors, the master/warden, the management committee, and guests of honour gather for dinner. Apparently, some halls have monthly High Table Dinners, while others have them annually.

Next year, I hope not to have the honour of sitting at the head table. It's hard to have conversations with old farts, especially when I can see that everyone else is dining with fellow residents. And sometimes, I feel it's harder to make a good impression than it is to NOT make a BAD impression. I think I held my own last night, but it was painful. Oh, I used the wrong knife and fork for my salad. Sigh..