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Showing posts from January, 2009

Nikko Revisited 重返日光

It has been eighteen years since I last visited Nikko (日光), an idyllic city nestled in the mountains of Tochigi Prefecture (栃木県) two hours from Tokyo by train. My memories of the city have yellowed, but time has only made the heart grow fonder. And so when I decided to spend Chinese New Year in Tokyo this year, I made certain that a proper visit, long overdue, was paid to the City of Sunlight.

I planned a three-day sojourn at a ryokan (旅館; traditional inn) in the town of Kinugawa (鬼怒川). A popular onsen resort in the city of Nikko, the town was named after the Kinugawa River, which literally means the wrath of demons. Far less sinister than its name suggests, the sleepy town is home to thousands of retirees eager to chat up visitors who cross their paths...
Read the rest of this article in HONG KONG State of Mind, published by Blacksmith Books, available at major bookstores in in Hong Kong, on Amazon and at Blacksmith Books.

And I Finally Exhaled 終於呼口氣

I stayed up till 2am last night to watch the inauguration of Barack Obama live on television. Two million cheering fans, as far as the eye could see, packed the Capitol Hill and the Washington Mall and turned a quadrennial domestic affair into a global celebration. Reporters and commentators talked ad nauseam about the historic significance of the first African-American president and the unprecedented challenges he now faces. But this transformative moment in history required neither narration nor embellishment. The sense of hope and renewal in the air, palpable and indescribable at once, moved us far beyond words. As one administration ends and the other begins, I can finally finish my obituary on George W. Bush’s accidental presidency.

Bush is not a terrible person per se. In fact, W (as he is often affectionately referred to by the press) is folksy, unpretentious and an all-around nice guy. In the 2000 presidential election, the Republican marketing machine sold the boyish Texan to …

Rhapsody on Pedder 畢打街狂想曲

It was an unseasonably cold November afternoon. I finished my workout at California Fitness and hurried back to the office. I walked down the precipitous Wyndham Street, where dense traffic from Midlevels collected and emptied onto Queen’s Road Central. The cacophony of car horns and audible traffic signals for the blind reached a deafening crescendo, drawing everyone’s attention to the busy crosswalk that marked the start of Pedder Street. There, pedestrians built up along the curb and stared unseeing at their mirror image on the opposite side. Double-decker buses and delivery trucks pushed forward in every direction and shook the ground like a wildebeest migration. Dispassionate traffic lights changed at even intervals, trapping and releasing machines and humans competing for speed. The opening bars of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue started to ring in my head. It was lunch time in Central.
Outside Marks & Spencer, a homeless woman lay prostrate on the sidewalk, her hair wrapp…

The Tutelage of the Tutored 上了學的生一課

I have been teaching English in my spare time for several years now. I classified my students into two main groups. The first comprises mostly eleventh and twelfth graders who need help with their literature class. They tend to be children of well-to-do expatriates who have been plucked from faraway homes and placed in one of the handful of exclusive international schools in the city. As traumatic as their displacement has been, these young, porous minds quickly adapt as they bond with schoolmates who share similar experiences.
The other group of students I teach comprises everyday folks from a cross-section of society. They come in all ages, professions and aspirations, from a 19-year-old office clerk who wants to watch Hollywood movies without Chinese subtitles to a trio of hairdressers at a beauty salon seeking group lessons on how to communicate with foreign customers. These students are typically working adults who stopped learning and using English the day they stepped out of sch…

Daily Conundrum 每天的困惑

Every weekday at roughly the same time, when the Hong Kong market is about to take its mid-day break, a recurring question pops into my head and gives me an instant migraine. Tackling this question requires creativity and the ability to work through an intricate matrix of parameters: timing, budget, location, weather and mood. It has nothing to do with finance, accounting or the law. It’s the eternal question of what’s for lunch.

To most worker bees, lunch is a welcome break in an otherwise never-ending day and a source of relaxation or gastronomical indulgence. To this picky eater, however, the mere mention of the word makes his head throb. Every day at the dreaded lunch hour, I find myself out of options and out of time.

Read the rest of this article in HONG KONG State of Mind, published by Blacksmith Books, available at major bookstores in in Hong Kong, on Amazon and at Blacksmith Books.

Department Store Culture 百貨公司文化

Back in my school days in Philadelphia, The Wanamaker’s, founded by prominent merchant and politician John Wanamaker in 1902, was among my favorite places to hang out in the downtown area. Every Christmas, the department store delighted children and adults alike with an in-store light show while holiday tunes played beautifully on the world’s largest operational pipe organ housed inside a majestic, seven-story high courtyard. Unfortunately for Philadelphians, as the department store industry waned, the iconic retailer eventually succumbed to changing times and in 1997, the century-old Wanamaker’s name was taken down from one of the city’s most prominent landmarks.

Once a social institution, department stores around the world are facing extinction. The rise of the “big-box store” that specializes in a single category of merchandise, such as office supplies, toys, footwear and sporting goods, has forever altered our shopping habits and made it impossible for department stores to compete…

Kowloon Complex - Part 2 九龍的心結-下卷

I decided to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon exploring West Kowloon. I dragged a friend of mine along for company and to get a second opinion on things. Jack moved to Hong Kong from Los Angeles to take up a banking job two years ago. Like many other expatriates, Jack’s knowledge of Hong Kong is limited to Central, Wanchai and Causeway Bay, and anything outside this tiny comfort zone completely eludes him. I thought my friend’s unfamiliarity with Kowloon would give his perspective some objectivity.

Driving through the Western Tunnel felt a bit like going through immigration in a foreign country: there was that mix of excitement and trepidation. It was, after all, the first time I took my car to the other side of the harbor. Jack made the old joke about Kowloon, “I think I forgot to bring my passport.” His remark got a few chuckles from me. At the toll booth, the uniformed cashier asked me for a whopping HK$45 (US$5.50) for a one-way passage, which prompted me to gripe to my friend about…