Reading books for fun

After finally submitting my PhD thesis earlier this year, I finally had a chance to rediscover an old passion of mine: reading books for fun.

Reading is something I do every day, but I stopped reading books for fun a long time ago. I certainly didn't stop reading books, and I certainly didn't stop reading for fun, but I only read books when I had to, i.e. for school.

I read a lot of books in my childhood, and it wasn't necessarily because I liked books. When I was a kid, my parents didn't let me and me (and my sister) watch TV on weekdays. Because we are assigned so little homework in Canada, and because I wasn't particularly interested in sports at that time, I had a lot of spare time on my hands. So to kill the time, I read books. Lots of books. I would either borrow books from the school library or from the public library, and I also got books from my dad's bookshelves. I even read a lot of books that I couldn't even understand. But by doing so, I pushed the boundaries of my knowledge and improved my abilities in reading and writing. More so than most other kids, I could read quickly, write well, and I became a repository of obscure trivial knowledge. Sadly, this also served to reinforced my image as a nerdy kid, which didn't really help my social life.

In high school, reading books actually meant more freedom for me. My parents were a bit reluctant to let me go out on my own, but it was hard for them to say no to letting me go to the library. So in addition to going ice skating with girls, riding my bike with my brother, and hanging out at the mall with my best friend Keith, I also rode my bike to the Richmond Public Library. By grade 9, I started to take the bus to the Vancouver Public Library, and by grade 11, I started to ride there, a 25km ride. The fact that I wasn't an outstanding student in high school probably has something to do with the fact that I spent a lot more time reading books for fun than I did on my school work.


When I got to university, especially when I was doing my Masters degree, I was required to do a lot more reading than ever. But unlike in high school, I got to choose my courseload. I took a lot of courses in History, Geography, Economics, and the Political Sciences simply because I was genuinely interested in those subjects. However, I must say that reading and analyzing books for exams and assignments is very different from reading books for fun. First of all, when we read for fun, we can take away as much or as little as we want from what we read; when we read as part of an assignment, we must fulfill expectations by looking for specific things. Also, reading academic writing is generally not fun.


Sometime in the past decade, I became a full-fledged news junkie. No matter how busy I am, I set aside at least one or two hours each day to read at least one or two (but usually half a dozen) newspapers; on the weekends, I read magazines too. Reading the New York Times is as essential a part of my day as brushing my teeth and eating lunch. I'm not sure when I crossed the line between healthy habit to addiction. I also don't know if addiction also counts as fun, but for argument's sake, let's say that I read newspapers and magazines for fun.


Now that I think of it, I can think of some of the differences between reading books and articles. For one thing, it takes more commitment to read a book than an article. Even the 10,000 word articles in magazines like The New Yorker and The Atlantic (formerly The Atlantic Monthly) take around 1 hour to read, whereas books take at least several hours to read, and usually cannot be finished in one sitting. You have to be pretty interested in a topic in order to finish a whole book on it. For example, I recently borrowed biographies of George F. Kennan and Winston Churchill, the autobiography of Christopher Hitchens, and the memoirs of Zhao Ziyang, but have yet to get through 2 chapters of each of them. By contrast, I've had no problem reading length book reviews and article-length publications on the very same subjects.



After submitting my PhD thesis in April, I've had a lot more free time on my hands. More importantly, I've finally been able to free my mind of my thesis (at least for a while), allowing me the peace of mind to read books for fun. I did read for fun while writing my thesis, but never books. If I knew that I had to read 10-20 journal articles in a month, what's the harm of reading a few magazine articles for fun? But to read a book is a different story. It's not that I have absolutely nothing to do - these days, I've been preparing to defend my thesis, and I've also been looking for a job, but these things aren't as all-consuming as writing a PhD thesis is.



So what have I been reading? There are lots of books that I've been meaning to read over the years, and I heard of most of them from the New York Times Sunday book review section. Books like Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by the husband-wife team of Nicolas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn; In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan; God is Not Great and Hitch 22 by Christopher Hitchens; Born Round by Frank Bruni; and A Continent for the Taking: The Tragedy and Hope of Africa by Howard W. French, are books that were written by journalists whom I'd admired. Because I've enjoyed reading their work, I entrust them with the task of shedding more light on topics like gender issues, food, and neo-colonialism. Then, there are books like Eaarth by Bill McKibben and The Revenge on Gaia by James Lovelock, books that are about the environment. Though I wouldn't necessarily call myself an environmentalist, I think it's important to understand what's happening to Earth. To tell you the truth, I haven't read a single page of either book. As I mentioned earlier, I also borrowed biographies of George F. Kennan and Winston Churchill, as well as The Hawk and the Dove: Paul Nitze, George Kennan, and the History of the Cold War by Nicolas Thompson. I haven't touched these books either.

It seems that I have a thing for books about China, especially books written by China watchers who are not from China. These are the books that I couldn't put down. The first book I read after submitting my thesis was Factory Girls by Leslie T. Chang, a Taiwanese-American journalist. After that, I read Oracle Bones: A Journey through Time in China by her husband Peter Hessler, who also became a journalist after working in China as a US Peace Corps volunteer - he's my new hero, by the way. Then, I read River Town: Two Years on the Yangtze and Country Driving: A Journey through China from Farm to Factory to round out the Peter Hessler trilogy. After that, I read the very disturbing Poorly Made in China: An Insider's Account of the Tactics behind China's Production Game by Paul Midler. Then, I read China Underground by Zachary Mexico, which describes the seedier sides of China. I recommend all of these books, especially the books by Peter Hessler.

Pretty soon (though I'm not sure when), I will have to start working. Between a full-time job, exercise, news addiction, and keeping a girlfriend happy, I'm not sure how much time and mental energy I can spare to reading books for pleasure. I hope I don't have to wait until retirement to be able to read books for pleasure again.

A decade (or so) in China

This month, July 2010, marks my 5th full year in Hong Kong and 6th full year in China. This month also marks 10 years since I first moved to Greater China. All told, I've spent 3/4 of the past decade in this part of the world.

What brought me to Asia? And why have I stayed?

It all started in January 1998, the second semester of my undergraduate studies at UBC. Ira Nadel, my ENGL 111 (Non-Fiction Prose) prof, assigned the book Red China Blues: My Long March from Mao to Now by Jan Wong, who is now a prominent columnist at the Globe and Mail. I highly recommend this funny and informative book, which is about the author's experiences of studying at Peking University in in the middle of the Cultural Revolution in the 1970s, then later working as a journalist in China in the 1980s (including June 1989 - she was watching from the Beijing Hotel, if I can remember correctly). Before reading this book, I knew very little about modern and contemporary China, so reading this book opened my eyes to China for the first time. The content and style of the book also differed from the readings (usually academic) that were assigned in the modern Chinese history courses I later took. What made the book so relatable to me is that Jan Wong arrived in China barely out of her teens and that as both she and I are Canadian-born Chinese, we share the same cultural upbringing. Reading about her experiences in China and seeing her vivid portrayal of a rapidly changing China inspired me to do the same thing: to experience China firsthand. Reading Jan Wong's China: Reports from a Not-So-Foreign Correspondent, her second book, only made me want to live in China even more.


In 2000, I hoped to spend the 2000-2001 academic year on exchange in China. I told Diana Lary, one of my Chinese history professors, about this desire of mine, and she suggested that I apply for a scholarship to study in Taiwan. To make a long story short, I decided that it would be better to let the Taiwanese and Canadian government pay my way to study in Taipei than for my parents to foot the bill for me to study in mainland China.

Though I complained a lot at the time, I now consider that year in Taipei to have been a positive experience. First of all, I learned to read, write, and speak Chinese. Secondly, I learned that I could take good care of myself in an unfamiliar environment, far away from home and from my family. Third, life in Taiwan prepared me for life in mainland China - though it's not as rough and tumble as mainland China, I nevertheless learned to expect the worst so that I could be pleasantly surprised by what I'd actually face. Though I didn't appreciate life in Taiwan when I was an exchange student there, I did come to appreciate the place a lot more when I did an internship there a couple of years later. If I told you in the past that Taiwan is a horrible place, then let me now state on the record that Taiwan is pretty pleasant and interesting. I'd also like to say that it's a lot more Chinese than Taiwanese people would like to admit. Much more Chinese than Hong Kong is.


Before I left Taiwan in August 2001, I visited China as a delegate of the China Synergy Program for Outstanding Youth. Even though we received red carpet treatment over the course of 2 weeks and were presented with a very mild form of propaganda (which I took with a grain of salt), I was nonetheless deeply inspired by what I saw. Even back then, which was long before it was clear that China was to become the juggernaut that it is today, I felt the energy and momentous changes going on over there, and I wanted to witness it, document it, experience it, and even play a part in it.


After finishing my masters degree in 2004, I didn't have a job and didn't have any plans, but I did have some money in the bank, thanks to a Teaching Assistant job at UBC and to scholarship money (and because I saved a lot of money by living with my parents). Having money, no plans, and nothing to lose allowed me to finally move to China so in July 2004, I packed 2 huge suitcases and moved to Beijing. I'll talk more about those experiences another time.

The following year, I jumped at the chance to earn a PhD in Hong Kong and five years later, I'm just about wrapping it up. After having experienced different cities in Asia as an exchange student, intern, graduate student, and very briefly as a low-level office worker, I will experience a different kind of life as I begin my career here. Pretty soon, I will start to bitch and complain about rush hour traffic, lunch hour traffic, long days at the office, bitchy backstabbing colleagues, wearing a suit to work, and who knows what else? Still, I'm pretty happy with how my life has unfolded so far, and I look forward to what's ahead, even the stuff I'll bitch about.


I'm 31 now, and I know and feel that it's about time that I settle down. Hong Kong is a pretty comfortable place compared to mainland China and Taiwan, and there are still lots of good opportunities here. Still, I look forward to opportunities to travel around the region, even if it's work-related. In fact, I'm still open to living in different cities, maybe Shanghai, if it feels right. In any case, I'm pretty sure that by the time I die, I will have spent most of my life in Asia. No matter what I do for a living, I hope that I will have the chance to allow Westerners to understand China better, and to let people in China understand the rest of the world better too.

happy again

Yesterday, like so many days in the past year, was a time for reflection. There was a lot to think about last year because my 30th birthday sort of crept up on me and made me think about the things that I’ve done and gone through and the person I’ve become.

I never imagined that I’d still be a student at the age of 30. Actually, I was supposed to finish my thesis work in October and to become Dr. Kenneth Ho before my 31st birthday. I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Well, graduating late isn’t entirely new to me – it took me 5 years to earn my BA because I took a year off to learn Chinese in Taiwan, and it took me 2 years to finish what was supposed to be a 1 year MA program because I was a Teaching Assistant for both years (which was really fun) and because I took up an interesting internship with the Canadian Department of Foreign Affairs, again in Taiwan (which was a bit less fun). Taking a year to live (and not study nor work) in Beijing between my MA and PhD prevented me from earning a PhD before turning 30, but it did allow me to understand China better than people who haven't lived there before.

Unlike the delays in completing my BA and MA, the reason why I will finish my PhD behind schedule wasn’t as fun or as rewarding. To make a long story short, I fell in love with and dated a girl I had no business dating. The relationship lasted only 5 months, but getting over her took me another 3 years. When the relationship ended, I exhausted my mental and spiritual energy in trying to make the relationship work, in trying to change her mind, in trying to understand why the world is so unfair, and in pitying myself. Before long, I discovered that I had nearly destroyed myself completely.

For a long time, life was simply about surviving to the next day. I passed the time by indulging in food, movies, and news and magazine articles. Some very patient and caring friends also helped more than they might ever know. There were also some little things for me to look forward to, things that may seem trivial to you, but which were exciting enough to keep me alive. For example, I’ve always looked forward to Saturdays, when I’d have dim sum with my aunt and cousin(s) in the afternoon and play badminton with friends in the evening. I especially looked forward to Muay Thai classes, which I not only enjoyed, but which would exhaust me so thoroughly that I’d be temporarily distracted from my spiritual pain. I’m damned glad I never resorted to drugs, alcohol, gambling, or other vices in those times. There was a year of rebound activity, though, which I put to an end when I saw the path of destruction I was leaving behind and when I realised that they didn’t make me feel any better.

Though I’m grateful to have survived that dark period in my life, I regret the time, opportunities, resources, and the patience of friends that I’ve squandered. I particularly regret that my writing output has slowed to an infrequent trickle, which won’t help me achieve my dream of becoming a columnist. Well, while I’m not overly concerned about whether or not I will come out of this experience with a PhD in hand, I’ve been a lot more concerned about when I will fully regain my sense of discipline and other qualities I once had. I’ve also worried about whether or not I’ll be able to love another girl as much as I loved my ex, and whether or not I’ll be able to experience that kind of happiness ever again.

Recently, these fears have been assuaged. My thesis work, though a few months overdue and with some methodological weaknesses, will soon be finished. Even if I do manage to salvage my PhD work, the 4 years worth of work I’ve managed to do in 1.5 years, I won’t consider the last 4-5 years to be a COMPLETE write-off. After all, having spent many hours each day reading newspapers, magazines, blogs, and books, I have continued to further my knowledge and understanding of the world. Though I’ve wasted my chance to qualify myself to become a university professor, I’m confident that I will find other ways to contribute to human knowledge and to society.

I’ve become happier and more confident these days and people have been noticing. Muay Thai has become a significant part of my life: not only do I have a way to stay fit, but I see my Muay Thai friends more regularly than I see any other friends, and have a great excuse to leave my office, dorm, and academic work behind several times a week. Furthermore, being an assistant trainer and making improvements in my skills have boosted my confidence. I’ve also been able to write again, and while the vast majority of what I write remains unfinished and unpublished, at least I’ve been coming closer and closer to finishing and publishing my writing. But most importantly, I’ve discovered that I can love again. Someone special has come into my life, and she is as beautiful in mind and spirit as she is beautiful on the outside. I probably don’t deserve her, and I don’t know if we will ever be together, but she has become an intimate part of my life and has been inspiring me to continue to strive. Not just strive to make myself more deserving of her and to convince her that I am ready to be a loving, caring, and devoted boyfriend, but to strive to live a full life rather than to merely survive.

This year will be a year of significant changes for me, and I’m pretty optimistic about what lies ahead. Yes, I’m behind all of my peers, some of whom have reached lofty heights in their careers, accumulated wealth, bought property, gotten married, and even have children. But it’s not too late for me to accomplish these things. In fact, the advantage of starting with nothing is that I have the flexibility to choose where I want to live, what I want to do, and to define who I want to become. Yes, there will be hardship, but more than ever, I’m certain that there will also definitely be happiness. I hope that you, my friends, will also be able to overcome the challenges you will inevitably confront in your lives, and to find happiness too.

a speech

The following is the speech that I was to give at today's "orientation for non-local postgraduate students". There was a last minute change in format, from speech to talk show-style, but I did manage to cover some of these points:


I wish you all a warm welcome to HKU. I myself was a non-local freshman 4 years ago.

By now, I’m sure you will have heard university officials tell you how excellent HKU is and heard university staff talk about the different services available here. I’m not here to talk about that stuff.

I have little doubt that all of you will succeed in your academic endeavours. I hope you’re all enthusiastic about what lies ahead of you, academically-speaking. But you must realise and remind yourself from time to time that you’re not here just to study. You must realise that you’re here to LIVE here as well. I know a few people who push themselves too hard or who have supervisors or profs who push them too hard and who seem to be prisoners in their labs, offices, or the libraries. While I applaud their dedication to their work, I doubt that it’s a pleasant way to live.

Having friends makes life a lot more pleasant. Ever since coming to HKU, I never stopped making friends. I made loads of friends at Graduate House, in the compulsory Graduate School classes, in language classes, in sports classes, and of course, through the PGSA. Girlfriends too, but I’ll get to that part later. And I got to know friends of friends who have since become pretty good friends of mine. You know what? You’ll never know who you’re going to meet. In the past few years, several of my friends here have gotten married to their classmates. Actually, they weren’t classmates. There’s a Law student who married a Dentistry guy, a girl from Dentistry who married a guy in Chinese Medicine, an Engineering guy who married a girl in Education. I think the lesson here is to avoid limiting your circle of friends to your department-mates. And that you won’t find love in your own department or faculty.

As for me, I’m still single. Hi ladies!

Actually, I loved and lost, and to tell you the truth, that was very rough for me. I thought that I met “the One”, but it just didn’t work out, and when things fell apart, they really fell apart. If it weren’t for the folks at CEDARS, I probably wouldn’t be able to be here. I don’t mean be HERE to talk to you. I mean ALIVE. If things get rough for you, don’t be afraid to seek help. These people know what they’re doing, and they really can help.

Moving on, I’d like to talk a bit more about life outside of the lab, office, and library. I hope you never feel bored at HKU. In fact, there’s lots to do here. Mark “September 4th” on your calendars. That’s when registration opens for courses at the “Institute of Human Performance”. The university has several sports centres where you can swim, play tennis, golf, squash, badminton, basketball, football... you name it. You can also take courses in things like yoga, kung fu, all kinds of dance, and Muay Thai. I’ve been especially fond of Muay Thai, or Thai boxing. I first took this course at the IHP 3.5 years ago and became HOOKED. But for the first 2 years, I only took the courses offered at HKU, which meant that I could only train once a week for 2 months, then stop for 2 months. In the past year and a half, I started to train at DEF Boxing in Sheung Wan once a week, year-round. In the past month, I’ve started to train at DEF 3 times a week. I might even compete sometime in the near future. So boxing, along with the badminton, plus the other sports I play from time to time, have been keeping me relatively sane and have been preventing my belly from getting any bigger than it already is.

If your professors ever tell you they think that you’re spending too much time playing sports, you should tell them that exercise energizes you and that it’s a valuable chance for you to see your friends. That is definitely the case for me now that I’m in my final year. The only time I get to see friends is when I’m playing sports. Almost nothing can keep me from playing badminton with my PGSA friends every Saturday night. You too can join us, if you want.

Ah, this brings me to my next point: challenge your professors. When I was an undergraduate and a Masters student at UBC, I was a straight A student. A, not A+. For years, I worked harder and harder, yet always failed to raise my grades from 85% to 90%, which is what you need to get an A+ over there. I later learned, from the A+ students, that to get an A+, you have to challenge your profs. I got A’s because I always answered the questions asked and did so by writing clearly and concisely. What the A+ students did was to challenge the profs’ interpretations and opinions, which they often give in the lectures, or perhaps in the choice of readings. As postgraduate students, especially PhD students, we should challenge some conventions and perhaps even be somewhat provocative. But it’s best to do it without being a jerk about it.

Okay, let’s change gears here and talk about Hong Kong for a bit. I encourage you all to get off campus once in a while. And I don’t mean to do grocery shopping. It’s easy to isolate yourself on campus. You can live in a dorm, eat at the canteens, spend most of your time at the library or your office or lab, and to occasionally go to the sports centres to play sports. But why would you deny yourself the chance to explore this wonderful city? I know.. this city can give you awful first impressions. For me, I was pretty damned impressed when I took the Airport Express from the airport to Central. But I was less than impressed when I stepped outdoors and entered the furnace. I wasn’t impressed when I stepped into a noodle shop and got yelled at.. by the server! I wasn’t impressed when I asked an old lady for directions.. and she SHOOK HER HEAD AND KEPT WALKING! Yeah, it can be discouraging. But you know what? When the weather gets cooler, after you learn a few phrases of Cantonese, after you’ve met some local friends who’ll recommend what to eat and where to eat it, you can have a great time exploring the city. It’s a very clean and extremely safe city and there’s so much to see. And not just the touristy stuff. Just 3 days ago, I decided to go on a jog late at night. I ended up exploring an area just 2 km from this very spot and saw some pretty cool things I never even knew about. Like a cemetery. A big one.

Another thing about Hong Kong is that you can get by with relative ease by speaking either English or Mandarin. Why learn Cantonese? Well, you may not NEED to learn Cantonese, and you may not WANT to learn Cantonese, but here’s why you SHOULD: do you REALLY want to tell people that you’ve lived in Hong Kong for 1-4 years and you can’t even speak a single phrase of Cantonese? Believe me, it’d reflect very badly on you. Don’t worry about how bad you might sound. Worry more about how sincere or insincere you’d appear.

One final thing before I shut up: I hope that whether you’re only here at HKU for 1 year or if you’re here for 4 years or more, that you will leave HKU a richer person. I don’t mean financially. That’d be impossible. I mean I hope that being a student at HKU will be an enriching experience for you, and that you will graduate a better person.

Thank you, and do have a wonderful time at this lovely university and this wonderful city.

A "satisfying" jog

Last night, I decided to go for a jog. Though I’m not fond of jogging, it was surprisingly fun and satisfying.

I only intended to run for around 20-30 minutes, from St. John’s College to Queen Mary Hospital (1.6 km away) and back, but things didn’t go as planned. As I reached the hospital, I found myself running down Bisney Rd., all the way down to Victoria Rd. Before long, I discovered that I was all alone, running along a road that cuts through the Chinese Christian Cemetery – needless to say, I ran a bit faster. I started to worry when I saw road signs that said “Cyberport” and “Aberdeen”, places that are considerable distances away from home. I didn’t bring anything, not my phone, cash, or even my Octopus card, so I would’ve been in serious trouble if I were to have cramped up or gotten lost and needed to take a bus or taxi home. After running along Victoria Rd., I passed the West Island School, giving me some idea of where I was. I also passed ritzy waterfront condos as I rounded the base of Mt. Davis before being greeted, with great relief, by the familiar sights of Kennedy Town. It was the first time I ever passed through Kennedy Town with absolutely no cash, which meant that I couldn’t buy any tasty snacks or drinks, so I took a leisurely-but-tantalizing stroll down Victoria Rd./Belcher’s Street and up Smithfield Rd. and Pokfield Rd. back to St. John’s. According to Google Maps, I ran 7 km, and it took me 1 hr.

The run was surprisingly pleasant and relatively pain-free. I didn’t expect it to go as smoothly as it did, since I used to get shin splints after 20-30 minutes and used to feel soreness in my knees after 30-40 minutes. And this was 5-10 years ago, when I weighed 20-40 lbs less than I weigh these days. Even at midnight, it was damned hot, probably around 30 degrees Celsius, so as expected, I sweated A LOT. I sweated so much that I stopped, took off my t-shirt, and wrung out a huge puddle of sweat, probably more than 1 litre of it. That felt surprisingly satisfying, to tell you the truth.

I actually like the sensation of soreness after any kind of workout. It’s actually very satisfying, even when slightly painful. But I’m a bit worried about tonight’s Muay Thai class. The Wednesday night crowd is usually a lot more serious than the Sunday afternoon crowd, and I’m often paired with gung ho white guys who like to go all out, so it’d be quite embarrassing if I’m upstaged by a newcomer or an inferior fighter. Even though I’ll probably suffer such consequences in the short-term, I’m going to try to make it a habit to jog so that I can shed some weight, burn some fat, and improve my stamina. Perhaps I’ll even be able to participate in next year’s St. John’s College “Round the Island” event, which is an overnight 38 km run around Hong Kong Island.

PS: I think it’s about time I invest in a thesaurus. I read over what I just wrote and noticed that I used the word “satisfying” way too many times.

The hottest day of the year (so far)

It turns out that last Sunday was the hottest day in Hong Kong (so far). Unfortunately, the air conditioning in my dorm room wasn't working very well, and my room was sweltering at 28 degrees C even though the a/c was set to the coolest setting. I sweat a lot, and my t-shirts get soaked very easily. If my t-shirts become more than 80% soaked, my shorts and underwear will get wet too, and wet underwear makes me want to piss my pants. Sunday was not a pleasant day. Here's a quick rundown of the day:

1:30pm, dorm room, St. John's College - I put on a blue HKU PGSA polo shirt

1:40pm, laundry room, St. John's College - the polo shirt got 70% soaked after only 6 minutes in the un-air conditioned laundry room. I took it off and hung it on the back of my chair for about 45 minutes, then put it on again when I put my clothes in the dryer

2:45pm, dorm room, St. John's College - I put on a light brown polo shirt with blue horizontal stripes, then entertained a visitor, feeding her bananas, coffee, wasabi peas, and cookies. It was surprisingly fun to watch a cute, skinny girl eat

3:00pm, dorm room, St. John's College - after fetching my laundry and baking in my room, the second polo shirt was 80% soaked. My visitor was very nice - even if she DID mind that my t-shirt was soaking wet, she didn't show it, and therefore didn't make me feel any more uncomfortable than I already was

3:10pm, dorm room, St. John's College - I put on a black "Jack Wolfskin" t-shirt and soaked it 20% or so while fetching my laundry

3:20pm, Pokfulam Road - sent off my guest and waited for a bus to Sheung Wan; the black t-shirt got 50% soaked during the 6 minutes of waiting

3:55pm, DEF Boxing, Sheung Wan - I changed into my Muay Thai shorts and t-shirt #1, a navy blue t-shirt from Giordano. The black Jack Wolfskin t-shirt was 70% wet when I changed out of it. Pre-workout weight: 225 lbs

4:30pm, DEF Boxing, Sheung Wan - after warming up, skipping rope, jumping around, and some warm-up drills, my t-shirt got 80% soaked. I changed into t-shirt #2, my "Pacman" t-shirt

4:50pm, DEF Boxing, Sheung Wan - after 20 minutes of bag-work and pad-work, it was time to change into t-shirt #3, my "fast food" t-shirt

5:30pm, DEF Boxing, Sheung Wan - after some one-on-one striking and blocking drills, it was time to change into t-shirt #4, a black t-shirt from Giordano

6:10pm, DEF Boxing, Sheung Wan - after soaking t-shirt #4 with a few rounds of sparring, I hit the showers and changed into a navy blue polo shirt. I soaked this polo shirt 30% during the 10 minute walk in 35 degrees C weather (and this was after sunset) to the barber shop. Oh yes, post-workout weight: 218 lbs

9:00pm, dorm room, St. John's College - I got back home after my haircut and some grocery shopping. The blue polo shirt was 80% wet when I took it off. Carrying a dozen pounds of groceries, as well as 5 wet t-shirts in my backpack, uphill from the bus terminal to St. John's didn't help. After taking another shower, I changed into a tan polo shirt with blue horizontal stripes right before heading out for an interview for my thesis work

11:45pm, dorm room, St. John's College - got back from my interview and took a third shower


So there you have it. One hot day, 8 different shirts, and 3 showers. At least I didn't piss my pants. I can't wait till the 4-6 week long winter arrives, even though it feels like Vancouver in late October, only drier. Today (Wednesday) wasn't quite as hot, but I still went through 7 t-shirts after 2 separate boxing workouts and a thunderstorm.

It's time to get over this fear of mine

There is really nothing I fear more than cockroaches, if you don’t include stuff like loneliness, poverty, cancer, castration, etc. I fear those things more than I fear death, and I fear cockroaches only slightly less than I fear those things.

If you’re from Vancouver and you haven’t travelled around much, you’d probably have no idea what a cockroach even is. I myself didn’t even know of their existence until I moved to Taipei in 2000. Well, actually, I once saw them in a movie called “Joe’s Apartment”, but figured, at the time, that those things couldn’t possibly be real. In case you don’t know, cockroaches are extremely tough insects that have apparently been around for hundreds of millions of years, have many legs, can climb up walls, can sometimes fly, can have bodies as long as an adult pinkie finger, and have very scary-looking shells that make horrifying “crack”-ing sounds when crushed. And they move DAMNED FAST in freaky, jerky movements. Sorry to be so vague, but I absolutely refuse to look up “cockroach”, in case I end up seeing pictures of them. The very sight of them makes me cower, shiver, and scream in fear. The one time a cockroach ever touched me, when one fell onto and crawled all over my shoulders as I was at a supermarket check-out counter in Taipei, I was frozen in fear for more than a minute and shivered for more than an hour afterwards, despite the scorching 35 degree weather that day.


Up until last week, I’ve considered myself to be quite fortunate to have seen cockroaches in any of my homes only five times (two of them in the room I’m in at this very moment) in the more than 6 of the past 9 years that I’ve been living in Asia. Even in the filthy ground floor dorm room I shared with 2 other guys that year I lived in Taipei, I didn’t see a single cockroach until my last month there.

I think it’s about time that I do something about my fear of cockroaches. They’ve been appearing in my life (specifically my residence) with increasing frequency in the last week or so. This is no coincidence: these roaches have been showing up ever since the Cambodian guy who lived next door since September (and who repeatedly told me that he saw cockroaches in his room EVERY SINGLE DAY) moved out… about a week ago.

What scares me the most is that I’ve been seeing cockroaches of varying sizes in my room. This suggests that they may be breeding somewhere in my room, most probably deep in my closet. My first thought upon realising this was to consider moving out of this damned place.


It would have been nice if I were able to have gotten used to cockroaches over time, but this simply hasn’t been the case. When I see them on sidewalks, I immediately scamper out of the way. When walking around at night, I often jump up at the sight of individual leaves that suddenly get blown around, which, for a very quick moment, can almost seem like a cockroach. When walking around with friends, I always point to cockroaches to warn everybody else, scamper out of the way as usual, and I’m told that I cross my arms over my chests as I scamper about. Yes, my friends do poke fun at me. To come to think of it, it really is quite absurd. Can you imagine the sight of a lumbering 220 lb guy, a kick boxer, who’s not afraid to take a punch, but who is frightened by a tiny little insect like a cockroach? I haven’t hesitated to call up friends and neighbours, including females, to help me get rid of these pests. Not only do I lack the courage to kill cockroaches myself, but I’m also not sure about which cockroach killing method is ideal when it comes to effectiveness and minimal clean-up. Stepping on a cockroach can be effective, but what if I miss and it ends up crawling all over my foot? Walloping a cockroach with a rolled up newspaper is another possible method, but what if I miss and the cockroach ends up flying towards my face? Yet another method would be to spray insecticide at it, and I prefer this method because it’s slightly less disgusting to dispose of an intact carcass rather than a mashed up one. The main problem with insecticide is that it could end up killing ME – my buddy Trylon said that insecticide causes insects to become neurological paralysed. If you unload a can of bug spray on a single insect, I bet it’s not just the insect that experiences neurological damage!


The recent abrupt intrusion of cockroaches into my life has made me recall a childhood phobia of mine that I have since overcome: a fear of dogs. I used to be afraid of dogs when I was very young, but got over this fear by the time I finished primary school. I can still remember the very day I overcame this fear. One day, when I was around 12 years old and my brother was around 11, a large, unleashed dog suddenly appeared as we were walking to school. This dog began to bark at us rather furiously, causing my brother, whose fear of dogs eclipsed my own, to run away in panic. The dog gave chase. I chased after my brother, caught him in a bear hug, then glared at the dog, and barked at it for good measure, causing it to saunter off. Since that moment, I was no longer afraid of dogs, unless they sniff my crotch a bit too curiously. Even when I see big, fierce-looking dogs and even guard dogs, I walk around as though I own the place, and I kind of tell them, telepathically, that I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the crap out of them. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think I could actually bring myself to hurt a dog, but please, don’t tell that to THEM.

If I can overcome my fear of dogs, it shouldn’t be impossible for me to overcome my fear of cockroaches. Just tonight, I killed 3 cockroaches: 2 tiny ones with bodies less than 1cm long, and a small one with a body that was almost 2cm long. I had no fewer than 3 chances today and 2 chances yesterday to kill larger cockroaches that have bodies that are 3-5cm long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.. yet.

Thoughts on the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics

Today is a day that I've been eagerly anticipating for more than 7 years. On July 13th, 2001, not only did I step foot in Beijing for the first time in my life, but I also witnessed firsthand the euphoria that erupted in Beijing the moment it was announced that it had won the bid to host the 2008 Summer Olympics.

In the past 7 years, especially in the year I lived in Beijing (2004-2005), I have derived great pleasure in witnessing dramatic transformations in Beijing and China. Unlike many other Westerners, I believe that on the whole, these changes have been positive. In recent years, China has come to inspire a looming sense of discomfort among a growing number of people around the world (a sense of discomfort exceeded only by the fear caused by a small number of terrorists and insurgents from the Middle East and Central Asia, and perhaps the "liberators" who have gone after them). China has been blamed for propping up rogue regimes and arming (and giving diplomatic shelter to) future war criminals; unfair trade practices, job losses, and environmental degradation; heavy-handed enforcement of its ethnic minorities, the forced displacement of its population, and persecution of dissidents and those who question the regime; and threatening rhetoric to separatist and pro-independence movements that challenge China's national sovereignty.

While I am no apologist for the China's top leaders, and while I do acknowledge that there is some truth in the statements above, I also know well enough that things could be far worse than they currently are, and that China's leaders have been doing a superb job, considering the constraints they face and considering the shape the country was in only a brief 32 years ago. Let's put our criticism into context and also give credit where it's due. I feel that that the positive developments in China have been overshadowed by far too much negative reporting. No, China is not perfect. Nobody is.

What about Beijing itself? Has it become a better city? On the one hand, monuments (and projects of monumental scale and spirit) designed by the world's most illustrious architects and state-of-the-art infrastructure have been built in record time; money has been poured into the long-dismal public transportation system, and the subway, which just 5 years ago consisted of 2 lines and 54km of track, has expanded to 6 lines and 180km of track; the factories that scourged Beijing's skies in the 80s and 90s have been dismantled and relocated to the outer suburbs; taxi drivers and other service sector workers have been brushing up on their English and have been taught to be more friendly; and residents of Beijing have been urged to behave better, e.g. to stop spitting on the ground, to stop smoking in restaurants and other public places, and to queue up at subway stations, bus stops, post offices, etc. On the other hand, large numbers of Beijingers have been evicted from their traditional "hutong" (alley) neighbourhoods, which have been demolished to make way for Olympic venues and other new construction; the social campaigns aimed at changing behaviour seem both heavy-handed and insulting; the lives of ordinary Beijingers have been disrupted by strict traffic restrictions and vigilant security checks; and millions of migrant workers have been asked to disappear during the Games, depriving them of their livelihoods in the capital.

Yes, the Beijing and central governments have been a bit drastic in trying to put on a great show this summer. But rather than attacking the government for going to such lengths and for their desire to put on a show, let's try to understand that the Chinese people want the Games to be a success too. Applauding a job well done does not endorse communism, communists, tyranny, totalitarianism, or an oligarchy. Talk to some people in China or from China and ask them whether or not they want the Games to go well. Talk to the hundreds of thousands of volunteers and to the millions of residents in Beijing. They would be most disappointed if their efforts to be gracious hosts are rebuffed. It would a be a slap in the face if people insist on talking about Tibetans, the Falun Gong, Darfur, or Taiwan. It would be a grave insult if everybody's efforts on hosting the Games is overshadowed by the protests of some ill-informed and naive has-been celebrity, second-rate athlete, or blowhard foreign correspondent or news anchor.

I sincerely hope that the world will focus on the positive, that China will be gracious hosts, and that the rest of the world will be grateful guests who will be impressed and pleased by what they see. I hope that instead of constantly nitpicking on niggling issues, world leaders, athletes, reporters, and spectators will give credit where it is due and will appreciate that however slowly, China is headed in the right direction and that we are all on the same page. Rather than pointing to what China has been doing wrong, why not offer constructive criticism on what China has yet to do right? Rather than singling out China's top leaders for abuse, why not recognize what they have accomplished well and to understand the constraints that hinder what yet needs to be done?

For the next 17 days, I will cheer for both Canada and China, and will even cheer for Hong Kong's athletes too. I will cheer for Hong Kong, where I currently live and the place where my parents grew up. I will cheer for Canada, the land of my birth and a country I admire for its values (e.g. multiculturalism, universal health care, etc.) and for its wonderful people. But most of all, I will cheer for China, my ancestral homeland, a once-glorious civilization that is once again becoming glorious after two centuries of suffering, humiliation, and backwardness.

Searching for Home

This March, I will go home for the first time in nearly three years. The funny thing is that I never intended to go home even once during my four-year program at HKU. Why not spend my limited money and vacation leave exploring more interesting places I’ve never visited before? If it weren’t for my alma mater inviting me to present a paper at a conference, I wouldn’t have gone home at all during these four years.

I’ve never missed home, nor do I miss it now, and I don’t feel I’ll miss it anytime soon. It’s not that I come from a place that’s particularly dangerous or boring; on the contrary, Vancouver is quite famous for its natural beauty and cosmopolitan flavour, and it’s long been a favoured destination for immigrants from all over the world (especially THIS part of the world). Don’t get me wrong – it’s not that I’ve fallen so deeply in love with Hong Kong that I don’t want to leave. Actually, Hong Kong can be quite a despicable place, with the greatest income disparity in the developed world; a terrible sub-tropical climate that’s definitely not suitable for people from more temperate areas; the stresses of living in one of the world’s most cramped cities; and people who can come off as frosty, extremely competitive, and rather callous. What’s more, I’ve been feeling, rather paradoxically, increasingly lonely in this large, crowded city. Still, there are worse places to be, and I do like Hong Kong most of the time.

I should also point out that I’m not estranged from my family. We get along fine. It’s just that we’re now used to not seeing each other for long periods of time, especially me. My parents and I even seem to get along better when we communicate by email. Though it’s not the same as seeing each other in person or talking over the phone, I still let my mom nag me as much as she wants to. I do miss my parents, but I also don’t mind not having them around to nag me on a daily basis. Sometimes, though, it occurs to me that I might never live in the same city as them again, and this does make me feel a bit sad.

‘Home’ is merely the place where I hang my hat at the end of each day, no matter where I might be. I’m not even that fussy about it. I’ve lived in some crummy places in my life, and Graduate House definitely isn’t one of them: my cramped, filthy, mosquito and roach-infested dorm in Taipei was far, far worse; I’ve also lived in a dank, poorly-lit Mao-era fifth floor walk-up in Beijing; and an illegal rooftop structure in Taipei near an old red-light district. It didn’t matter that these places weren’t ideal. What mattered was that at the end of each day, I was able to bathe and to curl up in a bed that was mine. This sense of sanctuary provided me with a ‘home’. These experiences also toughened me up and gave me the courage to leave home without fear.

I still have a vague-and-fading attachment to the place where I grew up, where my family still lives. It’s comforting to know that the house where I grew up is still there, that my parents will likely spend the rest of their lives there, and that I even have a place to go back to if I’m truly down-and-out, or even just feel homesick. Still, home is different now. The exterior has been painted, the electronic appliances have been upgraded, and most tangibly, my sister has annexed my bedroom, having turned it into a study room. I was quite sad and angry the day she told me, on MSN Messenger, how she planned to throw out most of my “junk” (her choice of words, not mine). I probably won’t wear the clothes, read the books, or pay any attention to the “junk” I’ve accumulated in my room over the years, but knowing that this stuff was there gave me a sense of comfort, the feeling that no matter what kind of hardships I’d have to deal with, no matter how crappy my living conditions might be, there is a familiar place somewhere in the world. This is a feeling I can no longer enjoy. In this sense, I am homeless.

To tell you the truth, my ‘identity’ hasn’t been much of a consideration for me. No, I’m not a die-hard patriot, but I do feel a strong sense of gratitude for what Canada has given me. I’m not just talking about the subsidized education and health care, but also being made to feel welcome and included as an ethnic minority. I’m also thankful for the fundamental humanistic values that have been imbued in me over the years. Having said this, I’m not the kind of Canadian who sews a Canadian flag on his backpack, constantly espouses the virtues of Canada in the company of non-Canadians, and lives for beer and hockey. And no, I don’t feel guilty for leaving Canada to explore and understand the rest of the world. I can feel comfort in knowing that in lieu of tax revenue, Canada’s investment in me will probably pay off in the form of projection of Canadian values and in different forms of mutually-beneficial transnational linkages.

As for the other major identity of mine, I myself know that I’m Chinese, even though many China-born Chinese people in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Mainland constantly try to convince me otherwise. Conversely, I feel no need to deny my Chineseness like I used to do when I was bullied by Caucasian kids in primary school. I’ve already gone through all that cliché Joy Luck Club “exploring my roots” 寻根 bullshit after feeling deep shame about feeling ashamed to be Chinese when I was younger. I’ve put some time into learning Cantonese and Putonghua; have been studying Chinese history and culture; have a strong desire to see the rise of a proud, strong, prosperous, and responsible China; and for the rest of my life, will try to do what I can to make that happen.

I’m not sure how I will feel when I go home in March. I have no clue where I will want to live or settle after graduation. Even when I’m ready to settle down, I don’t know when I’ll be able to buy property, and when fate will deal me the luck to meet and marry the girl of my dreams. On the one hand, I feel very fortunate to enjoy the amount of mobility accorded to me, but on the other hand, I sometimes feel jealous of those who have a very clear idea of where ‘home’ is, even if it means being stuck somewhere. In any case, I’m beginning to long for an anchor, imagined or real, that I can call ‘home’. It seems I do miss ‘home’ after all, though I’m less clear on where or what ‘home’ is, and where or what ‘home’ will be.

Phone numbers

It just occurred to me that I've lost the ability to remember phone numbers. I've also forgotten the vast number of numbers I once committed to memory.

Fortunately, I can still remember my family's home number. My family has been using the same number since before I was born. I can also remember my best friends' phone numbers, at least my best friends in high school, but we're talking about just 4 numbers here. And of these 4 friends, only 1 (an ex-girlfriend) is still living in Vancouver, but at least the others' parents still use these numbers.



Whose number is this? Oh... damn you, Tommy Tutone!



Of all of the phone numbers I've had in the last few years (I've had around 10), I can only remember one: my mobile phone (or "cell", as we call them in North America) number in Beijing. I can't remember the mobile phone numbers I had in Taipei and Vancouver or the land line I had in Beijing. I can't remember any of my office numbers either. In fact, I haven't even memorized my current office number, but perhaps that's because I'm never there. Well, at least I can remember my current home and mobile phone numbers.

In Hong Kong, there are people I call regularly, but mobile phone rates here are so cheap - I get 2000 anytime minutes a month for $95 HKD, less than $15 CAD - that I usually just call them with my mobile phone. And the person I talk to (or perhaps talkED to) most often lives in the same building as me, so I just have to dial her 4-digit extension number.

Perhaps I no longer bother to memorize telephone numbers because I rely on the phone directory in my phone. I can connect to any of my friends and relatives by looking up their names, which is a simple matter of pushing a couple of buttons - no memorization necessary. In high school, I committed my best friends' phone numbers to memory because I had to dial their numbers every time I called them, which I did quite often; bear in mind that this was before the age of instant messaging. We eventually began to own mobile phones, but the rates back then were not cheap, so we usually used land lines. I suppose we could have used speed dial, but 1. they were my family's phones, not my own, 2. I was too lazy to program numbers into speed dial, and 3. I committed numbers to memory rather quickly.

Unfortunately, because I no longer have to dial phone numbers, I no longer memorize numbers. I also have the nasty habit of ONLY programming peoples' numbers into my phones and not writing my numbers down anywhere else. If I lose my phone, I will lose all contact with the outside world! If I lose all of my numbers, the only people I can contact are my parents, an ex-girlfriend in Vancouver, the parents of my 3 best friends in high school, and my own mobile phone number in Beijing!

Maybe I should write down my phone numbers somewhere...

Such nice weather, for a change

The weather has been incredibly nice in the last couple of weeks, with the exception of a couple of very hot and muggy days. I'm surprised that it's been so cool after experiencing some rather unseasonably warm days in January and February. I really don't know how long this wonderful weather will last, but I'll savour every bit of it while it does.

The weather I've been enjoying here lately reminds me of the sort of weather I enjoyed in Vancouver. April and September are my favourite months in Vancouver. It's just perfect during these months - not too hot, not too cold, and not too wet. When out in the sun, one feels quite warm, but never hot. It can be quite cool in the shade, and while shorts and a t-shirt will suffice in the afternoon, you'd need to wear a light jacket and long pants in the evenings. And though it rains in Vancouver year-round, there is significantly less rain in April and September than in the more dreary days of late autumn, winter, and early spring.

September is nice because we finally get some relief from the summer heat (bear in mind that while Vancouver's summers are not considered hot, air conditioning is not very common in Vancouver). July and August can get quite hot, perhaps hotter and hotter every year (thanks, global warming), yet the difference in temperature between early September and late September is quite dramatic. It can still be quite warm in the afternoon, but as evening approaches, the air becomes crisp, perfect weather for strolling. In the morning, the dew on the grass becomes heavier and heavier, and is still many weeks away from becoming frost. And in the final days of September, the first of the falling autumn leaves appear on the ground.

April is nice because we finally get some relief from the chilly, windy, and wet Vancouver winter. It can still be a bit windy, but I've always liked the wind in Vancouver, which is not only much cleaner than the wind elsewhere, but which sometimes carries the sweet smell of flowers or the distinctive scent of needles of coniferous trees. It's still a bit wet in April, but only half as wet as the winter (though still twice as wet as the summer). It's still a bit too cold to sunbathe on the beach, but it's definitely warm enough to go hiking, to stroll on a beach, and to dine al fresco. As I grow older, I've come to appreciate the beauty of the flowers that blossom in the spring.. well, except for the hay fever all that pollen causes.

While I suffer in the humid, sub-tropical climate in Hong Kong and Taipei and the dry, dusty, and sub-toxic air in Beijing, I long for the "clean" and mild weather of Vancouver. Yet, as I have been reminded in the last couple of weeks, there are still some perfect days I can still enjoy here.

Sleep problems re-emerging

I overslept today. I suspect it's because I slept with the air conditioning on for the first time in more than four months. I've been sleeping a bit later than usual in the last couple of weeks, and am in danger of falling back into my old patterns.

I want to be very careful with my sleep habits. I consider sleep, or getting a sufficient amount of sleep during "normal" sleeping hours, to be a fundamental first step in putting my life back together. After battling a sleep disorder and terrible sleep patterns for an entire year, I finally got myself back on track in December and January with a breakthrough sleep therapy I pioneered myself. Let's just say that it involves manipulation of time zones. Well, $500 CAD and 8 time zones later, I began to sleep at 2:00am rather than 8:00am, and I woke up at 9:00am rather than 2:00pm.

Most of you will never know the extent to which I have destroyed myself in the past year. My recovery has been taking much longer than everyone had anticipated or expected. I'm not even sure if the worst is behind me yet. In any case, I still consider proper sleep to be an important first step. If I sleep normal hours, I can eat regularly; if not, I can only eat one proper meal at the canteens and will be forced to survive on 7-11 meals or junk food for my other "meals". If I sleep and eat well, I can probably concentrate better, and therefore produce better work. When I produce work I can be proud of, I'll feel better about myself, and will perhaps like myself again. And when I like myself again, perhaps others will like me too.

Ham sandwiches

Last weekend, I organized a party for the residents in my dorm. Perhaps I was a bit optimistic when I ordered food for 75. I'd say that around 50 people came and went throughout the evening. Anyway, among the dishes I ordered was cold cuts. What a disaster! The pan-fried dumplings, cheesecake, and sushi were very popular choices, but the guests barely touched the spinach and feta cheese pastries and cold cuts.

Needless to say, I have a lot of leftovers on my hands. Two pounds of sliced ham! And what can I do with sliced ham? Make ham sandwiches, of course.

It just occurred to me that I haven't eaten sandwiches regularly in years. Believe it or not, I brought a ham sandwich to school every day from kindergarten to the final year of my Masters degree. By my calculation, that's 18.5 years of schooling. In other words, I've probably eaten more than 3500 ham sandwiches in my life. I'm sure I brought tuna sandwiches and egg salad sandwiches sometimes too, but for the most part, most of the sandwiches I consumed were ham sandwiches. And believe it or not, I'm not sick of ham sandwiches.

I'm a bit embarrassed to say that my mom usually made lunch for me. I remember making lunch for myself during my high school years, but for some reason, my mom started making lunch for me again during university. I actually enjoyed making my lunch the night before school. It was simple enough to spread mayo or salad dressing on sliced bread, to slap on a couple of slices of ham, and maybe sliced sweet pickles too (better than dill). Sometimes, when my mom couldn't control herself and bought tomatoes in bulk volumes, she coerced me to add sliced tomato to my sandwich. I hated this, not only because tomato makes bread very soggy, but because raw tomato seems to make the inside of my stomach itchy. I always fell asleep in class after eating raw tomato. I sometimes added lettuce, but my mom usually bought iceberg lettuce, which really isn't appropriate for making sandwiches - it's too thick and too watery, and it's difficult to find flat leaves. Romaine is probably best. And when ham wasn't cheap or when we were low on ham, I sometimes added a slice of processed cheese to my sandwich. Sliced processed cheese is annoying because it's too salty and too small to fit sliced bread, making the centre of my sandwiches too salty and the crust flavourless.

As much as I like sandwiches, I rarely order them at restaurants. Why should I pay $10 for something I can easily make myself? But as I grew older, I've learned of sandwiches I've never eaten before. The "Reuben", for one, is a kick-ass sandwich I probably wouldn't make on my own. Not only are corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and rye bread not widely available, but it's also troublesome to pan-fry the sauerkraut. Hmm.. to come to think of it, it's probably not that hard to make a Reuben., and that stuff really isn't hard to find.

Anyway, I've almost finished eating my two pounds of sliced ham. I'll be sure to savour the last bite of my last ham sandwich.

Hail the smoking ban?

I couldn't be happier about the city-wide smoking ban in almost all indoor public spaces and outdoor areas such as beaches, stadiums, and parks, which has been in effect since midnight, January 1, 2007. Smoking has only been banned from places such as cinemas, banks, and supermarkets as recently as 1998, but people were still allowed to smoke in places like restaurants. Smoking will still be permitted in bars, nightclubs, bath houses, and mahjong and massage parlours until 2009.

I've never been a fan of inhaling second-hand smoke, and I've been inhaling more than my fair share in the last couple of years. Though Hong Kong is nowhere near as bad as cities in Mainland China, it's still pretty bad. At the restaurant where I eat dim sum with my aunt every weekend, less than 1/3 of the restaurant is non-smoking, and since it used to be quite hard to get a table in the non-smoking section, I usually ended up eating in the smoking section. It's quite nice to be able to taste dim sum WITHOUT the taste of smoke, for a change. It shouldn't be TOO hard for smokers to smoke outside, right?

The University of Hong Kong has decided to apply this city-wide ban into a campus-wide ban in which smoking, both indoors and outdoors, is now prohibited. I think it's a terrible idea. The university used to have designated smoking areas, with clear boundaries, and most of them away from crowded areas. Although I did not enjoy passing these areas - one of them was located below a walkway that leads to my residential hall - I was glad that smokers had a place to smoke. First of all, although I think smoking is bad and I don't have much sympathy for smokers who CHOOSE TO poison their lungs and throats, I also feel that it's wrong to persecute anybody who doesn't do unacceptable harm to others (smoking outdoors is acceptable to me). On a more practical level, I believe that the ban on smoking in outdoor areas will lead to "underground smoking". In other words, I think university officials are naive to think that students and staff would actually leave campus to smoke.

When the weather is particularly bad (i.e. when it's too cold or when there's a typhoon), some of the smokers who live in my residential hall light up in their dorms. They do not bother to go to the designated smoking area on the terrace just outside the building. Even if these smokers open their windows to smoke, the smoke can still waft out from under their doors, into the hallways, and into other peoples' rooms. That's how I know that people smoke in their rooms. The worst thing that can happen is that a careless smoker may end up burning the building down. But the hassles of a ringing smoke alarm or the sprinklers being activated are quite likely. And of course, I hate the smell of smoke. I really hope the university will come to a more practical solution on this one.

Why Hong Kong?

I'm often asked why I've chosen to come to Hong Kong. This is a question I often ask myself.

Why would I want to live in Hong Kong? After all, this is the very place my parents fled more than 30 years ago. Since they left, many more joined them to settle in the supposed-paradise of Vancouver, for better or for worse. There's the high cost of living here, the tiny living units, the crowds, and the pollution to consider.

To be fair, the Hong Kong my parents knew is long gone. The streets are no longer filthy, the police no longer put out their hands for bribes, and there are far fewer rats and cockroaches in the city. This city is no longer the fledging centre of light industry and one-time trade entrepot it once was, but is now a bustling, cosmopolitan hub of finance, logistics, and even culture, a city that is sometimes mentioned in the same breath as London, New York, and Tokyo. But some things are worse than they were before: despite strict pollution controls within the SAR, polluted air blows over from the factories in the Pearl River Delta. Income and wealth disparities are as great as ever, and social mobility seems to be more limited than in my parents' generation. And though it's not as bad as in the 1980's and 90's, Hong Kong people are incredibly arrogant towards people from Mainland China (despite the fact that the vast majority of people in Hong Kong are merely one or two generations removed from Mainland China).

Actually, there was a time when I was quite anxious to live in Hong Kong. When I was studying in Taiwan in 2000-2001, I was actually quite disappointed that Taipei wasn't the ultra-modern supercity I expected it to be. I suppose my expectations were inflated by my Taiwanese immigrant classmates who moved to Canada against their will and who kept insisting how terrible Canada was and how Taiwan was so wonderful by contrast. I expected Taipei to be a sophisticated, beautiful, high-tech city of skyscrapers, but was disappointed to discover that it was instead a city of ugly, squat buildings and dirty streets. When I visited Hong Kong for the first time in my adult life, I found my ultra-modern Asian supercity.

To visit Hong Kong while living in Taipei was a real treat. I still remember my first impression of Hong Kong quite vividly: just stepping off the plane and into Hong Kong International Airport, consistently ranked among the world's best airports, was a huge contrast to my terrible experience at Chiang Kaishek International Airport in Taipei. Then, I was whisked to the centre of town in the Airport Express in only 20 minutes; my journey from Taipei to CKS Airport took more than 90 minutes (there is no rail linking central Taipei to the airport). Looking out the train's windows, I admired the beautiful symmetry of housing estates, some of them with gleaming towers of glass and steel arranged 10 by 10, and most of them taller than the tallest skyscrapers in Taipei at the time (Taipei is currently home to the world's tallest building, the Taipei 101, but most other buildings in Taipei are 10 storeys tall or so). And on my cab ride from Central to Happy Valley, I was mesmerized by even taller and more beautiful hulks of glass and steel, the ones that house the world's largest corporations.

What I didn't realise was that in the years between those visits to Hong Kong and my move to Hong Kong last year, I somehow lost my interest in the city. Well, perhaps I was different then. Back then, I had aspirations to work in the financial services industry, and what better place to work than Hong Kong? And if I were able to earn investment banker dollars, then I would have been able to enjoy world-class restaurants, world-class hotels, world-class bars, all the stuff not available in a small city like Vancouver. Anyway, I seem to have forgotten why I wanted to come to Hong Kong, and by the time I came here, I realised that there's really not much here that I long for. I realised that I didn't really want to work in the financial services industry. I realised that my tastes are quite simple, that my tastebuds don't need to eat world-class food made by world-class cooks. And though it would be nice, my ass doesn't need to sit in first- or business-class seats when I travel.

Hong Kong is still an interesting place, but I feel that Beijing and Taipei are much more interesting to me. The problem with Hong Kong is that almost everything I can enjoy in Hong Kong is also available in Vancouver, though perhaps at different prices. Food, clothes, news, movies.. even things like cultural values! Taipei and Beijing, by contrast, were totally unfamiliar to me, and I had much to explore, much more to learn, much more to experience. Yeah, the biggest problem is that Hong Kong doesn't feel "fresh" to me.

Honestly, when it comes to "interesting", I feel that I'm more interested in living in Beijing than in Hong Kong. Taipei is interesting because civil society in Taiwan is much more robust than anywhere else in the Chinese-speaking world - where else can you see protests, rallies, symbollically violent election campaigns, and fistfights in the "national" legislature? I also really like Taipei's night markets, but it's not like I'd go to those every day. Taiwan seems to be more "religious" than Hong Kong or the Mainland, but I don't care much for religion anyway. As for Hong Kong, the city is great for shopping, but I don't shop very much, and besides, I don't have the money to shop for all of this top-notch stuff here. And of the three cities, Hong Kong is probably the most beautiful, not just the outlying island and the mountains in the New Territories, but also the skyline. I suppose Hong Kong's history is quite interesting, but it's a small place, and it's got a rather short history. Why Beijing, then? What makes Beijing so interesting to me is not the all the stuff available at low prices, not the concentration of great monuments, not even the many places of historical value. What makes Beijing so interesting to me is the people (wow, maybe I AM a sociologist or anthropologist). I really got to learn a lot about Chinese people while I lived in Beijing, people from every part of China, in addition to local Beijingers. Also, when I was in Beijing, I always felt that something big was happening. Big stuff does happen in Taipei and Hong Kong, but even bigger stuff happens in Beijing. Well, unfortunately, having lived in Hong Kong for a while, I don't know if I can tolerate the challenges of living in China if I were to move back there tomorrow. Let's just say that Hong Kong is a compromise.


As for food (oh yes, food is a VERY IMPORTANT consideration when it comes to where I choose to live), it's not that cheap to eat in Hong Kong, but at least the food tends to be pretty decent and only very rarely bad. I grew up eating Cantonese food, so Cantonese food is comfort food for me. Food can be cheaper in Taipei (for students), but there's less variety, and even if ingredients are fresh, food tends to be less well-prepared than in Hong Kong. I do miss the snacks available in the night markets there, though, as well as the Japanese-style hotpot known as "shabu shabu". There's much more variety of Chinese cuisine in Beijing, and it's much much cheaper than in either Hong Kong or Taipei, but I can never be too sure about the quality of the ingredients, and it's also quite hard to find decent Western and international food in the capital. If I had to choose one city out of the three for the food, I'd probably choose Hong Kong (though I'd rather pay Beijing prices).


Having said all this, I'm not too unhappy about being in Hong Kong. Life here is actually quite comfortable when compared to life in Beijing. The simple matter of taking a bus in Beijing can be quite a tiring experience, with long walks to bus stops, long waits for buses, the absence of queues and subsequent jostling to board already-crowded buses, standing in buses (the seats are almost always occupied) while stuck in traffic, smelling the odours of passengers (some of whom don't necessarily bathe every day) in un-air-conditioned buses, and pushing my way to the exit when I want to get off. By contrast, bus stops in Hong Kong aren't too far apart, buses run rather frequently, people queue in an orderly fashion to get on, there are almost always seats available (even during rush hour), almost all buses are air-conditioned (shame on you, Kowloon Bus Company! Get with the times!), and traffic is almost never bad. Taking a bus in Taipei isn't nearly as bad as taking a bus in Beijing, but still, the buses aren't as new and clean as the ones in Hong Kong, you have to flag down the bus you want to catch (and they don't always stop), English-language route information is almost never available, and traffic can be horrendous in certain parts of the city. Yeah, Hong Kong ain't so bad after all.


(By the way, I can tell you that I'm NOT in Hong Kong for the pop culture. Although I must admit that I was at one time into Cantopop and Hong Kong movies, I was only interested in Hong Kong pop culture because I wanted to fit in with the immigrant kids in high school, who outnumbered Canadian-born Chinese kids like me by 5-1. I haven't listened to Hong Kong pop music in more than 12-13 years, though I must admit that I do indulge in Hong Kong movies.)

Snow in Vancouver, late summer in Hong Kong

I've been told it snowed in Vancouver. How nice. It rarely snows in Vancouver. Even when it snows, the snow rarely sticks to the ground. Even when the snow sticks to the ground, it's rare for more than a few centimetres to accumulate. Even when more than a few centimetres accumulate, the snow rarely sticks around for more than a couple of days before milder temperatures causes the white stuff to melt and turn brown as it mixes with the slush on the streets and gutters.

This time, about 20cm fell over the weekend, and it's still on the ground. More snow is expected in a couple of days. Boy, I wish I were there. I can still wear shorts in Hong Kong. This month was the warmest November recorded in the last 120 years, with an average daily high of 23 C; by contrast, it's going to hit -20 C in Vancouver. Over here, I end up sweating on the days I decide to wear jeans and long-sleeved shirts. I only just stopped using air conditioning 2 weeks ago.

Despite the sharp increase in fender benders, the sharp drop in temperatures, and the need to leave the house earlier than usual if I don't want to be late for appointments, I've always welcomed snow. Unlike the patter of rain, falling snow muffles all sounds. The slow-falling flakes seem to float and glide, giving a simultaneously hypnotic and calming effect. I can watch the snow from my window for hours and hours. I especially like going outside at night, when the lights reflect off the snow, and the night sky is purple. And despite my age, I still love making snowmen and snow angels, and I even miss being "beaned" by a snowball. And let's not forget leaving mysterious yellow spots in the white landscape, or signing my name in the snow.

Though most people characterize it as a chore, I must say that I remember shovelling the driveway quite fondly. I haven't done it in nearly 3 years, and I doubt I'll be doing it again any time soon. I'm sure most others detest the idea of getting up early in the morning, putting on a parka and a tuque, working up a sweat in the cold, and aggravating the lower-back muscles. Sure, I hate all that too, but I seem to forget all about it afterwards and only really remember the satisfaction of having a clear driveway. I remember shovelling snow off into the bushes on the side of the driveway, my brother singing cheerfully as he worked. My family only has one snow shovel, but 3 garden shovels. We'd take turns using the much wider snow shovel, and would use the garden shovel to dislodge the stubborn compressed snow that formed the tiretracks of my dad's minivan (my brother and I normally shovelled the driveway AFTER my dad left for work). Oh, what memories.

If any of you in Vancouver took pictures, please send them my way.

Lately, I've been feeling rather embarrassed, ashamed, and disappointed that in the past few months, I've been averaging fewer than one blog entry per month. By contrast, I probably blogged nearly every other day in the first few months of this blog's life. What you don't know is that 2-3 times a week, I do login to this blog and I do write some stuff. But though I do write something, I just can't manage to check my facts, to rearrange sentences and paragraphs, and sometimes, to even complete more than 2-3 sentences.

The decline in my blogging output is quite indicative of what my life has become. I haven't been getting anything done and I haven't been doing anything properly. I can't sleep properly, I don't eat properly, and I just don't get anything done. What I end up doing is I manage to find ways to pass the time while I try very hard to get started on my work. Well, I have a lot of half-done work that I've managed to do during rare moments of inspiration and motivation, but have put aside and forgotten for several days at best, and several months at worst.

Every day, the first thing I do when I wake up is I turn on my computer. The first thing I do when it's on is I open up the document I've been working on for the last 3 months (but which I haven't touched in more than 2 months). I try very hard to concentrate on my work, to proofread what I've written, to continue writing, or to read books and articles. Yet by the end of the day, after a lot of chatting, watching video clips, and reading news, I close my document. No need to save changes, since no changes have been made.

What I've been going through lately isn't as simple as being unable to get any work done. I don't want to go into details, but I can say that everything started in March. Since then, I've been feeling an increasing sense of despair, indifference, self-hatred, lack of confidence, inertia.. and sometimes, I even feel urges to do something I previously considered unthinkable.

All I want is to finally get back on track and to return back to normal. I don't think it's mere laziness this time. I've been lazy before, but I've never played with such stakes before. What stakes? In less than 4 months, I will know whether or not I will pass my 18 months of probation and whether or not I will become a PhD candidate (I am currently a "PhD student").

The good news is that I feel that the worst is over. Even if I'm unable to catch up and am no longer welcome to continue my studies, I'm mentally prepared to do something else, to enter a new stage in life, to have a change of scene. Leaving the academic world may even turn out to be a blessing in disguise - it may be a chance for me to chase another dream.

As for my blog, another reason why I couldn't bring myself to post was because I promised myself to get some work done before I wrote for pleasure. I now realise that depriving myself of recreational writing has made me feel even more miserable. I remember how proud I once was of this blog and how happy it made me feel to post something, to know that you guys read it, and to read your comments. Now, I feel as though posting once again may even help my academic writing - maybe it will get me back into the writing mood.

Yes, I'm back. I'm sorry for the long absences.

A wedding

A friend of mine, a classmate, got married this afternoon. The church service was really quite spectacular - it was held at the Hong Kong Catholic Cathedral - especially since it was the first church wedding I've attended in my adult life, and only the second church wedding I've ever attended. In my 1+ year of living in Hong Kong, I've only attended civil ceremonies, which involve a registration ceremony at City Hall, followed by photo-taking, then a reception at a luxury hotel in the evening. The drawback about this particular ceremony was that I had to endure a rather long sermon in Cantonese, and because my supervisor was sitting right next to me, I had to be on my very best behaviour.

My classmate was very considerate to invite me and my classmates (and our supervisor) to the church service, but not the reception. I say so because in Hong Kong, at the church service, guests tend to give gifts, but at the reception, they are expected to fill and return an envelope (that is distributed along with the invitation) with money. I'm told that the going rate is $500-1000 HKD or more, depending on your social status and income. I'm also grateful that I didn't have to attend the "tea ceremony" (in which the groom pours tea for his new in-laws), and also a very cute, not-so-spontaneous custom in which the groom, on the morning of the wedding, leads an entourage to the bride's house, and begs her friends and family, who keep the door blocked, to let him see his bride. Very very cute. You can see such a scene at the beginning of Young and Dangerous 4. Anyway, being excluded from the morning activities (which only involve family, relatives, and close close friends) allowed me to sleep until noon. As for the reception, I'm not in the mood to spend 3-4 hours at a banquet where I'll probably be forced to sit with strangers. I'm bailing out of another friend's banquet in Guangzhou next Saturday.

As with the other weddings I've attended in Asia, I didn't get to see much at all. My friend hired not just a photographer, but also a camera crew to film her special day. Like my cousin's wedding last July and my friend's procession and ceremony in the Forbidden City last September, these cameramen obscured the view for almost everybody! Exchange of vows? Didn't see it. "The groom may now kiss the bride"? Nope. Sometimes, I wonder why I even attend weddings at all if I won't see anything anyway. "Send me a copy of the video," I'll tell them. Nah, I understand that they want me there, whether I can see anything or not.

Something else I noticed about this wedding, as well as a couple of others I attended recently, was that extremely few people in Hong Kong dress appropriately for weddings. The groom usually wears a business suit rather than a tuxedo, and the maid of honour and the bridesmaids usually wear dresses that are appropriate for the occasion. However, I must say that the colour of dresses, shirts, and ties have become more and more diverse (and less and less formal), making weddings less and less of a solemn occasion and more and more like a party. I'd say that only one third of the guests dress in what they should be proud to call their Sunday best. At a registration ceremony at City Hall I attended on a Friday afternoon in June, I was a bit shocked to see that so many of the guests were actually dressed relatively appropriately (i.e. not wearing jeans and t-shirts). It then occurred to me that these people were dressed for work. Well, despite Hong Kong's blazing 30 degree celsius October heat, I still insisted on wearing my cheap, ill-fitting suit.


Although my friend's wedding was a joyous occasion, I did find myself reduced to tears at certain moments. Before the ceremony started, I remembered that when first notified of the wedding around ten months ago, my friend asked me to bring my girlfriend. It was sad to be reminded of this invitation, and of the sad fact that the two of us are no longer together. During the ceremony, I was surprised that tears welled up in my eyes when the bride and the groom walked down the aisle, both on their way in and on their way out. After the ceremony, and while we were waiting for our turn to take photos, my supervisor half-jokingly urged my classmates to get married ourselves, not just for the sake of Hong Kong's survival (to relieve the demographic pressures of an ageing population and to maintain the competitiveness of Hong Kong's human resources - the topic of a recent conference), but also for our own sakes. Yep, the tears flowed once again.

Happy Birthday!

Today marks the one year since the birth of my blog. It's been quite a year, filled with the both the happiest and saddest moments of my life. I suppose I've described some of both in some of my entries.

I really hope I can post as consistently as I once had. I'm starting to get my life back on track. Sometimes, I feel that I might even find happiness and achieve success someday. I can't say if the worst is over yet or not, but at least I feel good now. Which is why I've been blogging again!

Whoppers at The Peak!

Burger King is back! Until this month, there was only one place you could get a Whopper in Hong Kong: the Departures terminal of Hong Kong International Airport. Not anymore!

A couple of weeks ago, I heard rumours that a Burger King just opened at the Peak Tower, but was a bit too occupied to check it out. But today, I was really craving a flame-broiled all-beef patty topped with lettuce, mayo, ketchup, and sliced onions (though I usually take the onions out), tomato, and pickles, all in a sesame seed bun. I just had to google "Burger" + "King" + "Hong" + "Kong", and found this. Yep! Burger King's here!

The problem was that I was reluctant to hike up Victoria Peak (elevation 552m and a 45 minute, 3km hike from HKU) on a day like today, when it was 32 degrees Celsius in the afternoon (but felt like 35) and with the barometer up at 79%. But having eaten Burger King only three times in the past year (twice at Hong Kong International Airport, and once at Don Muang International Airport in Bangkok), I decided to satisfy my craving.

I left my dorm at 6:51pm, just as the sun was setting. Although the air temperature had cooled, the air was still a bit humid. I found that University Drive, the road leading to the trail, seemed longer and steeper than I remembered. After walking for 1km, I felt the muscles in my lower back tighten, and felt some strain in my right calf. At the half-way point, I was already drenched in sweat. Was I going to give up? And NOT have a Whopper? Hell no! Well, I ended up sitting down to rest about four or five times, but by 7:40pm, I was digging into my onion rings.

My one complaint about Burger King in Hong Kong is that the burgers and the so-called "extra value meals" cost quite a bit, a lot more than McDonalds meals. A Whopper Extra Value Meal, which includes a Whopper, fries, and a soft drink, costs $40 HKD ($5.74 CAD - I know, I know, $5.74 CAD doesn't sound too bad, but it is when I can get BBQ pork rice for $2.29 CAD and a plate of fried rice for $2.72 CAD at the cafeterias in HKU). I applaud them for not charging me when I asked for onion rings instead of fries, but I did get charged an extra $3 HKD for iced lemon tea - I don't like carbonated drinks as much as I used to. A Whopper on its own costs $27 HKD ($3.86 CAD). By contrast, Whoppers cost $1.89 CAD every Wednesday (a.k.a. "Whopper Wednesdays"), and most McValue Meals in Hong Kong cost $21-26 HKD. Well, I suppose spending $40 HKD at Burger King is better than spending $100-150 HKD for a burger at a place like Dan Ryan's. Hell, I'm even willing to pay $50-60 HKD for a Triple O burger at White Spot. By the way, do any of you know where the White Spot in Pacific Place is? I just can't find it.

Oh yes, I say that Burger King is "back" because apparently, there used to be more Burger Kings here, but they all closed down, as did Wendy's and Jack in the Box, and most Hardees. I know that I can easily clog my arteries with local food, but sometimes, I want to do it North American style.

And no, Burger King here doesn't have poutine. Damn.

CSP - finally over

I'm finally back in town after spending two and a half weeks volunteering as a "mentor" for the 7th China Synergy Program for Outstanding Youth. It was the fourth time I've been part of this cultural tour, and the second time I volunteered my services for the duration of the trip. I thought it would be nice to get away from my mundane life in Hong Kong for a little while, but it turns out that I left at a time I didn't want to leave. I also thought it would be a rewarding experience to act as a teacher this time around rather than doing administrative work like I did last year, but it turns out that there were many uninterested, ungrateful, and uncooperative delegates AND fellow volunteers. In short, it was still rewarding to know that for some of the delegates in my group, this trip really opened their eyes to China, and they became more proud of their Chinese identity. On the other hand, I found the trip to be very demoralizing, not just due to the delegates who did not try to learn, but also because some of my coworkers weren't doing their jobs - because I worked hard to take up the slack, especially in the undesirable jobs that they despised, and for which they feared they would be despised, I made quite a number of enemies. In the end, I got quite a few negative evaluations, some of which were actually quite hurtful, and some of which made allegations that are either untrue or that have been exaggerated. If I'm going to work so hard and if I'm going to do what I feel is right and what needs to be done, I'd rather not be punished like this. Anyway, I still think that this program has some very noble objectives, but some of the recurring problems with the way this organization works has dissuaded me from ever being part of it ever again. Here I am, licking my wounds, and regretting the way I spent nearly 3 weeks of my life, but also regretting some of my actions and the way I carried myself under stress.

The World Cup - the great equaliser

I love the World Cup. The fact that I've only watched half a match in the two weeks since the tournament started doesn't diminish my love of the World Cup.

I watched half of the Brazil-Croatia match on the fifth day of the tournament. It's not that I'm a fan of the Brazilian team, but everybody was talking about the Brazil team, and in Hong Kong, those who aren't England fans are Brazil fans. And yes, it really is a bit odd to see about 5% of Hong Kong men wearing t-shirts that bear the crest of Team England. Anyway, though only one goal was scored in that match, it was quite exciting to watch the shots on goal. It would have been quite boring to watch that match on my own, but it was kind of fun to watch it with the silly boys and girls who chose to stay up until 5:00am to watch it. In hindsight, it would have been more fun to watch Argentina beat Serbia and Montenegro (didn't Montenegro declare independence just this month?) 6-0, though. I was also reminded of why boxing, ice hockey, and NBA basketball are the ONLY sports I watch on TV, and even then, only very very very rarely. Oh, I don't mind women's volleyball too. There's nothing like tall, slim, athletic women jumping around... yum.

While I'm not a huge fan of the Brazil team - I normally like to cheer for underdogs, never overwhelming favourites - I do like that a developing country that is otherwise known for a big river, for tropical rain forests, and (which is even named for) an overwhelming disparity in wealth can be so successful, even dominant, on the world arena. Along with the traditional great powers like England, France, Germany, and even Spain, Italy, and Portugal, there are the relatively insignificant African, Balkan, and Latin American countries, all of which are fully capable of delivering upsets to countries substantially more wealthy than they are.

Today, for example, Ghana, despite the suspension of their two top scorers, beat the US 2-1. I LOVE IT! I absolutely hate seeing the US at the top of the medal tally every Summer Olympics I can remember, but seeing the mighty US turfed from this truly global tournament, in the first round, no less, brings me tremendous joy. And what do you know about Ghana? I bet most of you can't even point it out on a map! I only know that UN Secretary General is from Ghana.

I guess what I love about all this is that it shows that money can't buy everything. What do you need to play football? Just a ball and a flat playing field. No need for expensive equipment. Of course, consultation, coaching, being able to fly around to play talented opponents, and a system that nurtures talent helps, which probably explains why the wealthiest European countries still produce players of such high calibre. But still, most boys in the villages of Africa, the towns of the Balkans, and the favelas of Brazil can probably afford to play football and can all aspire to greatness, to one day beating, perhaps humiliating, their former colonizers on the world stage and to one day earn millions playing somewhere in Western Europe. How beautiful is that?

Been busy

Hello friends,

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated this site. Lately, I've been quite occupied with work and have been trying to get my life back together. In the last two weeks, I've gotten quite a bit of work done and have been working quite consistently. I've been going to my office at around 9 o'clock and not leaving until 5 o'clock. Yeah, I know that a lot of you spend 8 hours(or more) a day at the office and that it's not a big deal, but it's quite a change for me. Unfortunately, not too many people go to the office at 9:00pm and leave the office at 5:00am. The shitty thing is that the air conditioning in my building shuts off at around 7:20pm. Fortunately, an uncle of mine was generous enough to give me a fan, which helps a lot more than I expected, and of course, it's slightly cooler at night than in the daytime.

I'm trying to get a few things done before I leave town for 2-3 weeks. Once again, I will be a volunteer for the China Synergy Program for Outstanding Youth, of which I was a delegate a few years ago. When I come back to Hong Kong, I'll hit the ground running, and hope to maintain this momentum for the next 3 years.

I still have a couple dozen half-written blog entries saved up and hope to publish them soon. I really haven't had the mental energy to write new entries, and I feel like I'm letting myself down. It was really fun to update this blog, and though I can't say that updating this blog came at the expense of my work, the fact is that I have some serious catching up to do (for my work, that is). That means that my blog will come at expense of my work. Damn.

Am I a vampire? I sure as hell sleep like one

Here I am, once again, sitting at my desk in my dorm room. To my right is my window, 2 metres by 2 metres, which affords me a view of Sai Ying Pun, Victoria Harbour, and West Kowloon. I'm watching the sun come up. It's 6am already. Yes, I'm still up. For the twenty-something-th time in the last month, I've been awake to witness the sun rise. No, the sun does not rise abnormally early, and no, I haven't been waking up abnormally early either. I just can't sleep.

I normally keep rather late hours. Since moving into Graduate House, I've been going to bed at 4am and waking up at 10am; after taking my time to wash up and have brunch, I COULD make an appearance at the office in the afternoon (if I felt like it) and ATTEMPT to get some work done. No, this does not happen every day, but I DID sleep from 4-10am every day.


Last month, I had to write a paper for the first time in 2 years. I gave myself 2-3 weeks to work on the assignment (only 3000-4000 words, or 15 pages) so that I could read thoroughly, cite carefully, and write diligently. Unfortunately, in the 10 hours or so I'd spend at my workspace in the daytime, I'd get less than 2 hours of work done. After midnight, however, my productivity was as different as.. well.. night and day. After the clock strikes midnight, I can get a lot of work done and tended to refrain from distracting myself with reading news, replying to emails, and instant messaging. If I'm at my desk for 5 hours after midnight, I'd get 4.5 hours of work done. Therefore, I stayed up later and later. I found myself going to bed at 5am, then 6am.

By the time I submitted my paper 2 weeks ago, I thought the worst was over. Boy, was I wrong. I arranged a Graduate House excursion to Macau the day before the deadline, and had schedule the gathering time for 8:30am. Since I was used to sleeping at 6am by then, I figured it would be slightly better to stay up all night rather than to sleep for just 2.5 hours. Anyway, that was the first of my attempts to stay up all night and all of the next day in order to correct my cycle by sheer exhaustion.

The first of 5 attempts in the last 2 weeks. While this solution seems brilliant in theory, it can end in failure in practice. In fact, my brilliant solution managed to make things quite a bit worse. Somehow, I began to sleep at 8 or 9am, and once, I fell asleep at 10:30am and woke up at 5pm. How did this happen? It's exhausting to stay up all night, let alone all day. My energy levels sank, my eyelids felt heavy, I was constantly yawning, I retained a lot of water, and my gastro-intestinal system gave me grief. Needless to say, I couldn't really concentrate on anything, so I didn't get any work done, and could barely manage to write blog entries. I also felt too weak and too bloated to do any exercise, which would probably help me sleep better.

The challenge was in staying awake - napping or sleeping during the day would negate my efforts to exhaust myself enough so that I'd sleep extremely well at a decent hour of, say, midnight, or more realistically, 4am - which became nearly impossible because of my accumulated exhaustion and because nothing could keep me awake. Caffeine never works on me. Actually, caffeine (and alcohol) can make me sleepy. I ended up reading a lot of news and watching a lot of movies just to pass the time. Sometimes, I went to my office to TRY to get some work done. Whether watching movies in my dorm or reading in my office, I invariably fell asleep at my desk, either with my head resting in my folded arms, or leaning back in my chair, my neck tilted backwards at an uncomfortable angle. This kind of napping is exhausting and painful, yet I was able sleep like this for hours, up to 5 or 6 hours. Of course, this messed up my cycle even more.

Last Thursday/Friday, the last time I stayed up all night and all day, seemed to finally work. I went to bed before the sun came up, then woke up before noon. Until today, that is. Now, I'm wondering when this will end. Will I live this way for the rest of my life? I might as well become a night watchman or a taxi driver or a Hong Kong-based investment banker who deals with African stock markets. It would be perfect if a vampire bites me, since I practically keep vampire hours these days anyways.


NOTE: I know for a fact that some of you will suggest that I drink warm milk or to read a boring book. Been there, done that, and guess what: I'm still awake!