Why I didn't kick a scumbag cabbie's ass

This morning, I sent my father off to the airport. Actually, I didn't go all the way to the airport with him - I merely sent him to a bus stop where he could catch a bus to the airport. I wouldn't have even done that if he didn't need help with his luggage.

Because my dad's luggage was quite heavy, we took a taxi from Graduate House - he stayed at a guest room here - to the nearest bus stop in Sheung Wan. We asked the Graduate House office to call a taxi, and our taxi arrived within 3 minutes. Usually, taxi drivers will get out of their cars to help load luggage into the trunk, but this guy, a skinny guy in his 50's whose hair was dyed black, didn't budge from his seat. I loaded my dad's luggage - a mid-sized Samsonite suitcase filled with books and a mid-sized duffel bag full of clothes - into the trunk before my dad and I both got into the back seat of the cab.

The driver seemed to take a long route than necessary. The taxi metre doesn't usually exceed $25 HKD whenever I take a taxi to or from HKU to the airport bus stop. This time, the metre hit $35 HKD. For those of you who live in Hong Kong, the driver took Conduit Road all the way to the edge of Admiralty before finally going down the hill and through the middle of Central. In other words, rather than going down the hill sooner, the driver took us on a U-shaped journey that cost us an extra $10 HKD. That's not all - the sonofabitch charged us an extra $5 HKD for calling a cab, and yet another $5 HKD for the big piece of luggage. First of all, I've never been charged $5 HKD for calling a cab. I've been told that if we call for a cab to pick us up immediately, we usually won't be charged; we WILL be charged if we ask to be picked up in 15 min or 30 min or more, though. Secondly, most taxi drivers these days seem to waive the $5 HKD per piece of luggage, AND they usually help unload the luggage.

Did I pay without complaining? Did I put up a fight? Well, it's hard to say.

Under different circumstances, this whole thing would have turned out quite differently. Already annoyed that the driver took me and my dad for a ride, I was about to grudgingly pay the driver $35 HKD, but then, he demanded $45 HKD. I replied, "$45?? Yeah right." I gave him $35 HKD and got out of the cab. He got out of the cab and said, "Hey, you didn't pay me enough." If my dad weren't right there, I would have said, "Tough luck, asshole." But my dad WAS there, and he apologetically asked the driver, "Oh, then how much do we owe?" Before my dad could open his wallet, I forked over a $50 bill and took back my $35. The driver got back inside his car and got some change, and when he came out, he found that I was glaring at him. If you were there, you would have seen steam rising from my shoulders, neck, and head. I could stop a bus with that look. He handed me a $10 bill and a $5 coin, then got back into his car with me still glaring at his back. Five seconds later, the guy got out of his car and came up to me, saying, "I gave you too much change. I gave you a $10 bill and a $5 coin." My dad turned to me and said, "Then you should give him his money back." If my dad weren't there, I would have said, "You did? Where's your proof?" or "Oh? Then I'd like to see you TRY to take your money back, motherfucka." But what could I do? I grudgingly took the $10 out of my wallet and handed it back to him. He was about to get back into his cab, but then he turned around and explained to my dad, "We charge $5 extra if you call a cab, and $5 for each piece of luggage. It's company policy," all the while ignoring my glare. I said, "Yeah yeah, whatever. Get the hell out of my face" (not those exact words, but what I said in Cantonese conveyed exactly that tone).

I'm upset at myself. I'm amused that such a thing could happen, but wish that it could have happened without the presence of my dad. First of all, I don't want him to see my violent, menacing, and petty side. Sometimes, I do hate how I can be, and know that I should act more like a gentleman, or at least do what I can to avoid conflict. Unfortunately, I believe in a little something called justice. Secondly, waiting at the bus stop with my dad could be the last time I see him in months, perhaps years, or, God forbid, ever. I didn't want his last impression of me to be that of an ill-mannered guy or a guy with unrestrained rage. I'm pretty sure he sensed my anger, but he didn't say anything. In fact, 10 seconds after the cabbie drove away, I acted as though nothing happened by chatting about other things. Thirdly, this cabbie was such a bumbler, and taking revenge would have been TOO easy. He gave me too much change, then had the guts to ask me to give it back to him?? Do you think I'd ever give in to such a lazy, sneaky, greedy person? Don't you think I'd rather humiliate him by making him get back into the cab without getting his $10 back?

I love teaching people to not mess with me, and perhaps to not mess with anybody. I pity the next person who crosses me - he or she is going to get it doubly bad.

Why I hate flying

I've discovered that I'm deathly afraid of flying. It's not things like fear of crashing that scare me, but rather what happens in the passenger cabin, the hassles of getting to and from the airport, procedures at the airport, etc.

Last night (the other day, actually - I've been having problems posting this), I came back from Malaysia on Air Asia, a Malaysia-based low-cost carrier (cost: approximately $100 CAD). By your standards, my flight may not have been such an ordeal, but it certainly was an eye-opening experience for me. The flight itself wasn't too spectacularly bad, but what happened before and after made things more difficult for me. Read for yourself:


From my hotel to the airport:

-left my hotel at 7:40pm; got to the train station at 7:52pm; rode express train from 8:00pm to 8:28pm

• It started raining extremely heavily just a few minutes before I had to leave my hotel
• It was tough to hail a cab during the thunderstorm - most taxis were occupied, and those that weren't were unwilling to take me to such a destination so close
• Though Indian cabbie agreed to send me to KL Sentral Stesion, he charged me 8 ringgit rather than the usual 5-7 ringgit (1 Malaysian ringgit = 32 cents CAD). I suppose it could have been worse - he could have charged me anything, and I really couldn't have refused!
• The KLIA Expres cost 35 ringgit (about $10 CAD), a bit expensive, if you ask me. By contrast, the buses from Beijing Capital Airport cost 16 yuan ($2.30 CAD) and even the bus I take to get to and from Hong Kong International Airport costs $21 HKD ($3.15 CAD). The silly thing is that I took the KLIA Expres 3 times in 3 days, including the round-trip I made to pick up my dad. (On the other hand, I realised that paying 25 ringgit ($7.89 CAD) for taking an airport bus really isn't worth it - it took more than 1.5 hrs from KLIA to the Petronas Towers!)

At the airport:

-arrived at 8:28pm; checked-in at 8:35pm; ate dinner at 8:45pm; arrived at gate at 9:25pm; boarded plane at 10:20pm.

• While checking in at the Air Asia counter, I was told that boarding would start 1 hour before take-off. When I looked at my boarding pass, I noticed that I was not assigned a seat. Then, I remembered that when I flew on Air Asia in 2003, passengers could sit wherever they wanted; this is called 'open seating'
• I asked the lady at the check-in counter whether or not a meal would be served on the flight. She said that there is no meal service on Air Asia flights, but that we could buy some snacks on board. I decided to eat dinner at the airport and to buy food and bring it on board to eat
• It was a very long walk to my gate. The LCC (low-cost carrier) wing of KLIA is pretty damned remote, quite far away from the check-in area, and not served by the aerotrain, but at least there are some motion-sensor-operated moving walkways
• As soon as I got to the gate, I discovered that the boarding time had been changed to 9:45pm
• I took a seat just 3 seats away from the boarding counter when I arrived at 9:25pm. I tried to read my Sociology readings, but women who looked like prostitutes kept talking on their mobile phones. I'm pretty sure that at least a dozen of them actually WERE prostitutes, and judging from the way they dressed and talked, they're probably from Mainland China, mostly from Fujian Province
• At 9:43pm, I moved towards the boarding counter, setting off a chain reaction: Three people who were already standing near the front of the counter raced to the front of the counter as soon as they saw me approach. I thought I would be fourth in line, but 4 or 5 of the friends and family members of those in front of me butted in. When I turned around, I noticed that EVERYBODY was scrambling to queue up
• Almost all 150+ passengers formed an orderly but impatient queue. We waited and waited and waited, thinking that we would start boarding at any minute. The guy at the front of the line placed his carry-on baggage onto the belt of the x-ray machine and the contents of his pockets in a tray. They would remain on the belt and in the tray for 55 minutes
• People behind me tried to budge in front of me. I 'spread my wings' and made sure this wouldn't happen. I'm pretty good with my elbows, and my backpack can work wonders
  The airport security staff began to arrive, one-by-one, at around 10:00pm. Every time a staffer arrived, the impatient passengers would get quite excited about the prospect of boarding. In total, 6 staff, all Malays, arrived, but all they did was sit behind the boarding and security counter and chat with each other
• At 10:20pm, we finally began to board! Although I was 10th in line, I was able to scramble past the high heel shoe-wearing grannies and prostitutes in front of me. I was first to board the plane!

Boarding the plane:

• I chose the aisle seat in the first row on the right side of the plane. If I were to sit in the first row on the left side of the plane, I would have had much more legroom, but since the passengers were boarding on the left side, I knew my feet would trampled if I were to sit there. At least I was in the front row - I HATE IT when people sitting in front of me recline their seats
• Even though my feet didn't get trampled, my left shoulder was the victim of numerous hits from carry-on baggage. I hate it when passengers don't check-in their luggage and bring everything into the passenger cabin
• The seats were narrower seats on any other airline, but fortunately, I was able to fit my fat ass into my seat
• Two guys from northeastern China sat beside me. They were relatively well-dressed and they SEEMED okay

The flight:
-took off at around 10:45pm

• There was no in-flight entertainment, not even radio or overhead TV screens, let alone personal TV screens
• The snacks available for sale were overpriced and included instant noodles, chocolate bars, and bags of chips. I was so glad I brought burgers from Burger King on board
• They turned the lights off during most of the flight, and I would have made people around me quite unhappy if I turned on the light to do my Sociology readings
• Soon after take-off, the two seemingly okay guys sitting beside me decided to take off their shoes and put them on the wall in front of us. The guy beside me took off his shoes first. He was wearing socks. He urged his friend to take off his shoes. "It's much more comfortable when you take off your shoes," he said. His friend wasn't wearing socks. What was more shocking was that the other guy had tattoos on each of his feet!
• The two seemingly okay guys sitting beside me became very bored. Perhaps out of boredom, the guy right beside me began to rub his face and brush his hair. I made a point of shifting in my seat and leaning in the opposite direction whenever he did so (which was quite often)
• Face rubbing and hair brushing gave way to nose picking, then ear picking, then fingernail biting. If they're going to do all of those things, I wish they'd use separate fingers, or at least do it in a different order. Disgusting!
• Quite a few people used the toilet at the front of the plane, which was about 2m from my seat. Not everybody closed the door. Some people came out with a trail of smoke following them. Non-smoking flight, eh?

(At least there were no crying babies or annoyingly loud kids or annoyingly loud adults)

Arrival? Not quite yet..

-touched down at around 2:15am; got out of plane at 2:20am; went through immigration at 2:23am; retrieved luggage at 2:30am; taxi to ferry terminal 2:37pm to 2:50pm; ferry to Hong Kong 3:00am to 4:05am; taxi to HKU 4:20am to 4:30am

• Fortunately, Macau International Airport is very very small and relatively user-friendly. Also, though I wasn't the first one out of the plane, I was the first to get to the immigration counter
• Because there was only one flight, the bags got to the carousels quite quickly
• Buses don't run at 3am in Macau, so I had to take a taxi from the airport to the ferry terminal. Cost: 46 pacatas, around $8 CAD. And Macau is SO SMALL! Taxis were so much cheaper in Kuala Lumpur and Bangkok
• The ferry to Hong Kong cost $178 HKD and took just over an hour. Fortunately, it was a Turbojet ferry, which is faster than other ferries
• Food service on the ferries is very expensive, yet so many people forked up $20 HKD for a bowl of instant noodles. I ate the second of my Burger King burgers on the ferry
• I took a cab to HKU. Cost: $25 HKD

There you go. Flying from KL to HK should only take a little over 3 hrs, and with express train links to their airports that whisk travellers to and fro in under 30 min, such journeys should take no more than 6 hrs. Perhaps the extra 3 hrs it took me were particularly painful because this was a red-eye flight, only the second time in my life I flew overnight within the same time zone, the first time being the time my family flew to Los Angeles via Las Vegas to catch a cruise ship. Still, I suppose flying is still better than travelling long distances by bus or train. Unless I'm driving, of course.

Not quite in the vacation mood (but having a good time nonetheless)

Greetings from Melaka! My dad and I are having a blast in Malaysia, and are both hiding in this not-so-quiet internet cafe to get some relief from the heat. This is my second time to Malaysia, but it's a real pleasure to show my dad the sights I enjoyed when I came here nearly 3 years ago. Melaka is particularly enjoyable with its history of Chinese and Arab traders, as well as its Portuguese, Dutch, and British colonizers, not to mention the Sumatran-Malay sultans who introduced Islam into what is now Malaysia. Our hotel is on the edge of Chinatown and just across the river from the European settlement. And we're very lucky to have come during the weekend, just in time to make it to the weekend night market.

The Chinese communities here are very interesting and retain and even make up a lot of new traditions. I've always been interested in how peoples' identities change when they move to new places. Malaysian Chinese seem to feel more 'Chinese' than Chinese I've seen anywhere else. To see how they've survived and prospered here is even more inspiring than the Chinese communities in North America - they've been here for centuries longer.

Oh, if I can help it, I'll never go to Kuala Lumpur again. Really, there's not much to do there. I do have a couple of friends there. I really have to thank my buddy from CSP for letting me stay at his place in Petaling Jaya. Puay Seong, you're welcome to visit me in Hong Kong (or wherever I go later) anytime. Oh, the one good thing I have to say about Kuala Lumpur is that it has many of my favourite fast food joints that neither Hong Kong nor Mainland China have, including A&W, Burger King, and Kenny Rogers' Roasters. Hey, I did have local fare like nasi lemak, char kuay teow, laksa, and of course, Hainan chicken rice, but I knew I'd eat even more of this stuff while travelling with my dad, so I loaded up on the Western fast food I missed before he met up with me yesterday.

One nice thing I can say about this trip is that history has not repeated itself.. yet. When I came here 3 years ago, I had what has been my most terrible travel experience so far. In a single night, an ATM machine ate up my bank card and I got a terrible case of food poisoning (which included vomiting 7-8 times and going to the toilet about 20 times within a 7 hr period). The HSBC bank machine I used dutifully spat out my HSBC bank card this time, and my stomach has been able to handle whatever I've put in my mouth so far. Let's keep my fingers crossed - I still have more than one day to go!


While I'm having a great time spending time with my dad, I'm really not in the travelling mood. There's someone else with whom I'd rather be travelling. My trip to Thailand with her was one of my best vacations ever, and whether she would come here with my dad or without, I'm sure we would have had a great time. She said she'd be more than happy to travel with me again as friends, and I suppose that would make me happy too, but perhaps less happy than as boyfriend and girlfriend.

We're friends now

Hello all,

Thanks for your concern. Things have been getting better. She and I are already very very good friends. Perhaps the intimacy will not be there anymore, but at least we will have companionship. I hope for more, but will not hold my breath.

Fortunately, I can get my mind off things when I leave for Malaysia tomorrow for a 5 day trip. My dad will join me there after his 3 week backpacking trip to Burma/Myanmar, then will come to Hong Kong for a week.

Anyway, I hope to write more when I get back.

Moving on isn't easy

For the first time since the break-up, I've had a good night of rest. Though it was rudely interrupted by my neighbour and his 'guest', I slept well nonetheless, unlike previous nights when I could only manage to sleep for 4 hrs, only to wake up when I became too excited by my dreams.

I'm really trying to 'move on', as she has urged me to do. It really isn't easy, but perhaps the worst of the pain and desperation is over. I no longer coop myself up in my room, and I've even been able to exercise and get some work done. My appetite still isn't the same as it was, but at least I have an appetite again. When I run into friends who comment that I look ill, exhausted, or even grave, I no longer burst into tears when they ask me what's wrong. I still feel too exhausted to tell even some very close friends the details of what has happened, but I do appreciate the encouragement and support everybody has been giving me.

The most difficult thing now is getting on with my life in Hong Kong and at HKU. What makes things so difficult is that of my roughly 7 months in Hong Kong and 6 months at HKU, we were together for 5 months. In the days since the break-up, I've come to realise that so many mundane details of my life were intricately connected to hers. I usually took the initiative since she has always been shy about these things: I would call her as soon as I woke up (unless I knew she would wake up later that day), stop by on my way in and out to give her a quick kiss and a hug, call her every time I got on a bus.. but now, every time I wake up, every time the elevator passes her floor, and every time I take a bus, it feels very very different, and I know exactly what's missing. And this is not to mention the places we've been together, the most numerous of which were at or around HKU. Do I have to leave HKU? I certainly hope not, and I certainly hope she doesn't leave either. She tends to run from her problems, but I really hope I don't become such a 'problem'.

Yes, I worried that we may haven taken up too much of each other's time. The truth is that both of us had little to no self-control when we saw each other. A quick hello would lead to a hug, a hug would lead to a kiss, a kiss would lead to kissing, kissing would lead to stroking her back and her sides, and a quick hello that was supposed to last one minute could occupy us for an hour, or two, or more. Sometimes, when we intended to chat for just a few minutes, we ended up chatting for hours, sometimes chatting until the sun came up. Time passed far too quickly when we were together. Yes, she was sometimes late for class (and sometimes missed classes), and she sometimes had to rush assignments, but I really did try to avoid letting her do that.

I've asked her before if seeing her so often, calling her so often, and spending so much time with her was a hassle. She's quite upfront and honest, and she has usually told me that no, I wasn't being a hassle, and that in fact, she was very happy that I called or dropped by. During times that she had to get work done or didn't have time to see me, I usually tried my best not to bother her. But I now realise that what felt normal and pleasant during less busy times must have felt suffocating while she was at her busiest last week - she has an important deadline looming, and she had to resolve a monumental personal crisis in which I could play no or little part in assisting. I truly regret not being much more sensitive to her feelings and that I could interpret her reactions to me more clearly so that I could have stayed away when I should have.

I'm very sorry that I'm responsible for driving her to such a desperate moment in which she made such a desperate decision. She could not admit that it was a rational decision, and I feel that she's trying to convince herself that it's the best decision. I know there are other factors involved, but we were doing a pretty good job of handling them. But the bottom line is that it's hard for me to accept her decision because she still loves me. (Of course, after she reads this, she will try to convince me that she no longer loves me. But you.. she still loved me when you made the decision.. and she can't deny that)

Now, I'm trying very hard not to be miserable. My sorrow may be difficult to hide, but there is a way to be sad with dignity. When she looks at me, I don't want her to see a pitiful loser, and I don't want her to feel guilt - if she were to change her mind, I don't want her to change her mind because she pities me. When she looks at me, I want her to see the same guy she was in love with. I wonder if she would remember the joy we experienced together and change her mind. I wonder if she has been tempted to come to me or call me and tell me that she has made a mistake...

Love, from beginning to end(?)

I still remember the moment I met her. It was at a party. I got there first, and she arrived half an hour later. She immediately caught my attention. She was tall and slim and had shiny perfect hair tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing a brown, patterned dress that clung to her curvy body. It exposed her neck and part of her shoulders, showing the perfect skin that matched the skin on her face. As soon as I spotted her from across the room, I gulped my drink and excused myself from the 2-3 people with whom I was chatting at the time.

I waded through the room full of people and introduced myself, then chatted with her and her friends. She was polite and friendly, and when she laughed at my jokes, she had a dimple in her right cheek. Did I have a chance? I asked for her number and MSN ID, and added her to my MSN list as soon as I got home.

I chatted with her for a little while every day. Just three days after we first met, I asked her if she'd like me to show her around Hong Kong since she had only arrived a week ago, and hadn't had a chance to explore. She took me up on it. We spent the whole afternoon and early evening together. We chatted all day. Though she was quite shy, she was very considerate and pleasant, intelligent and attentive.

For the next couple of weeks, we continued to chat on MSN Messenger. I made her laugh. We were becoming friends, but I had to make it clear to her that I was interested in being more than just friends. Of course, that could have jeopardised our friendship, but I fell in love with her, and decided to take the risk.

One night, while we were watching movies, I finally mustered up the courage to let her know that I was interested in her, and told her I wanted to know if she were interested in me. She was shocked when I told her so, but she later revealed that she felt the same way about me. However, she was not yet ready to date me. She convinced me to date someone else (which I did: I dated another girl I was interested in for two weeks, and I misled another girl. I feel tremendous guilt for misleading both of them, and for perhaps breaking their hearts. I really did want to give them a chance, but my heart was telling me otherwise).

During the two weeks that I was dating someone else, we still chatted with each other - intermittently at first, but with increasingly frequency. By the end of the two weeks, we were chatting with each other several hours a day, from late at night until the sun came up in the morning. It became more and more clear that she was falling in love with me. It became more and more clear that I was still in love with her. At one particular moment, we both summoned the courage to tell this to each other, and it was at this moment that we began dating.


Our five and a half months together were among the happiest times of our lives. I felt very fortunate to be able to let her experience things she had never experienced: she would melt when I kissed her lips and when I brushed my hand up and down her back. Time always passed so quickly, especially when we felt each other's warmth as we lay in each other's arms. We revealed and shared our feelings with one another, openly and sincerely. It delighted her every time I dropped in unannounced to give her a kiss on my way out, and when I called to say "I love you." To be able to bring her so much joy, exhilaration, and pleasure made me feel like a Great Lover. Someone so outstandingly beautiful and intelligent, someone so considerate to me, someone who enjoyed my company as much as she did, made me feel joy I have never felt before.

But just as easily as she brought me joy, she has caused me pain. I shouldn't say it is easy for her, because it is obvious that it pains her to do this to me, and to herself as well. The suddenness of this is shocking, the reasons unconvincing - I still haven't been able to accept it, but I've told her I will try, if just to respect her decision. But how could anyone give up what we had together? If one or both of us stopped loving the other, or if one of us had done something to betray the other, perhaps it would be easier for me to understand and to accept. Or if I could have seen the end coming as I had with my second girlfriend in Beijing, it would have softened the blow and let me prepare for and manage it.

I will never forget her, and will probably never stop loving her. If she realises she has made a mistake - that she is actually not willing to let go of me, that our love is worth fighting for, that our love is worth the hassle - then I would gladly welcome her with open arms. Because she loves me (but is trying very hard to stop loving me), she is unwilling to hurt me again, but for the chance to feel what I've felt in the last few months, I'm willing to take that risk again, and again, and again.


If 'you're' reading this, I just want to thank you for making me happy, that I'm sorry for causing you pain and hardship, that I do not regret being with you, and that I love you.

My broken heart

My heart has been broken.

This hasn't happened to me in 8 years. After the last time it happened, I vowed never to let it happen to me again. Even if I were to have been on the receiving end of a break-up again, I don't think I would have been too hurt or too upset. I protected myself very very well. Being dumped on my birthday last year didn't faze me at all. I was composed within hours, met someone new - a truly wonderful girl - within days, and began dating her within 2 weeks.

Eight years later, it has happened again. I'm hurt. Very hurt. More hurt than I've ever been hurt before in my life. I knew I was had let my guard down, making myself vulnerable, but I did so willingly. I'd never been happier before in my life, and although we had to overcome some very challenging obstacles to be together, we both tried very hard to do so, especially her. We were happy. More happy than either of us we imagined we would be. And we fell in love. Very deeply in love.

Not to say that my previous girlfriends were not special, but I really thought that this girl was particularly special, the one I could be with for the rest of my life. She made me feel excited in a way that other girls did not. With all of my other girlfriends, I felt as though we all just ended up together accidentally, but when I met this girl, I thought she was the girl of my dreams, a dream I first though unattainable. Exceeding my expectations, against the odds, and very quickly, she fell in love with me. Fell in love with me, not with any tricky gimmicks, expensive gifts, fancy meals, or fast talk. She appreciated me for what I am, for being sincere and honest, for making her laugh, and making her feel comfortable and happy.

What really hurts is that she still loves me. She loves me so much, and was so happy with me, but she still decided to end our relationship. External pressures are the main cause of our break-up - a unique set of circumstances ellicited a sense of desperation and caused her to make this decision. This is not to say that I'm perfect, or that she's perfect - we do have our differences, but who doesn't? I've lived with disappointment and pain before, but this kind of disappointment and pain hurts more than any other kind, and more than ever before. And I've been humbled. Nothing can be more humbling than this.

I know all of you will say, "Ken, cheer up." I know most of you will say, "Ken, look on the bright side..." I will survive, but it will not be easy.