May!

There are lots of exciting things coming up! Including: Shenzhen bilingual poetry event tomorrow; writing a speech for Han Shaogong's book launch at the HKBU library; Art HK and HK Unveiled exhibits; the special Cheung Chau bun festival on the 12th; and Xu Xi's book launch for Evanescent Isles.

At the HKBU library today, I checked out Agnes Lam's books of poems and Xi Xi's collection of short stories (in translation from Chinese) A Girl Like Me. It's been so wonderful to read and talk to Hong Kong writers since I've been here. Even though my Fulbright project is a creative one, I've been actually doing quite a bit of research on Hong Kong writing. I'm really getting a good sense of literature here, and its evolution post-handover.

Pearl soup

At this very moment, just a few feet from my window, my neighbors are making pearl soup. At least that's what my mother called it. I know because I can smell the soothing broth, can smell those little dough balls I used to make with my palm as a kid. I remember trying to make different shapes out of the dough, like people make cookies shaped like trees and dinosaurs, but they always ended up being a globby mess.

A part of me wants to climb into their kitchen, and another part wants to shut the window (this is no time for homesickness).

Taiwan

Dan and I got back from our short trip to Taiwan on Monday night. I really liked Taiwan and could actually see myself living in Taipei - a city that is, in many ways, similar to Hong Kong. Yet, Taipei's air is cleaner and the city seems to have a greater sense of its heritage and culture. Plus, the food is delicious. They're big on snacks.

We started out in Taipei for two days, then took a train down south to Hualien to see Tarako Gorge (about 40 minutes away), an incredible National Park. Then we took a quick trip to Liyu (Carp) lake, then spent half a day back in Taipei, soaking at the hot springs in Beitou.

Some random highlights from the trip:

- National Palace museum carvings: We saw the famous jadeite bok choy/cabbage. My personal favorite was stone made to look like a piece of pork.

- Old men, everywhere: We went to a park near Lungshan temple which was filled with old men spending their afternoon talking and (I think) gambling. Then we walked around the neighborhood and heard old men singing karaoke. Then we saw even more old men at the Sun Yat Sen Memorial, flying kites. And then, we went to the public hot springs in Beitou on a Monday. So, with everyone else at work, the place was filled with, you guessed it, old men.

- Taiwan friends: Taiwanese people are so friendly! In our experience, Taiwan is truly the Land of Smiles, not Thailand (we felt like we were being ripped-off a lot of the time). Whenever we got lost, there was always someone who wanted to help us out, even if there was a language barrier. Plus, when we were stranded at Liyu Lake (a rural area) and needed to make our train back to Taipei, we asked some people in a restaurant to help us call a taxi and this super nice couple offered to drive us 30 minutes back to Hualien! Or when we asked someone how to get to the public bus stop, he walked us all the way there and made 100% sure we knew the arrival time and where to get off. We also made new friends! Kai, a friend of a friend from Bard, showed us around Taipei our second day there. We went out for a delicious lunch and walked around his university.

- Taroko Gorge: this gigantic park was absolutely breathtaking. I'm not exaggerating. It's full of rivers, mountains, tunnels, waterfalls, marble gorges, etc. We also tried some aboriginal Taroko food, which resulted in one of the best dinners I've ever had. We also stayed at this hostel on top of the mountain and could hear the river outside our room.

Lau Fau Shan

Yesterday, I met up with Leung Ping-Kwan, a Hong Kong poet who is also a literature and film scholar at Lingnan University, near Tuen Mun (about an hour away from Central on the west rail). I was first introduced to his work (in particular, Travelling with a Bitter Melon) during an event at the International Writers Workshop back in October. It was great to sit down and talk with him about writing in Hong Kong, Hong Kong's history and identity, and what he's been working on. His concerns definitely echo with my own since I’ve been here: the creation of a bilingual literary festival (there is one in English and one in Chinese; why not combine?) and a stronger community of writers in order to reach the public and share Hong Kong writing abroad (which needs the support of the Arts Council and is currently shadowed by performing art). We also stopped by Xu Xi's Lingnan book launch for 50/50, which is a new anthology of Hong Kong writing.

Afterwards, Ping-Kwan showed me around Lau Fau Shan, which is between Tin Shui Wai and Yuen Long in the New Territories. It's an old village famous for its fresh oysters. However, nowadays, the water is dried up and the harbor is at a standstill. First, we walked to the park area, but as we went up, these two men hanging out told us 'no entry'. This didn't make much sense and it was pretty clear that they just didn't want tourists/visitors (which is funny since Ping-Kwan is a local). Anyway, we went and saw a view of the Mai Po marshes, which was quite beautiful. Except, as Ping-Kwan told me, pollution from Shenzhen is an increasing problem. Across the foggy horizon, you can see the bridge to Shenzhen and the city's eerie lights. Heading towards the harbor, we walked through this dried seafood market, which was pretty much empty. With the green lighting and stagnant buckets of water everywhere, it looked like the scene for some bizzare fish horror movie. Once out of the market, you instantly see mountains of chalky oyster shells along the harbor; you can hear the shells crack under your feet as you walk. It was completely abandoned, polluted (old flip flops, soda cans), and the thick smell of old fish filled the air. Nothing moved, save the occasional thin-legged bird digging for food and the strange black somethings hopping around in a trickle of water. Back in the market, we picked out some seafood and took it to the restaurant nearby to cook. Dinner was really nice, with true village hospitality as they gave us a huge pot of free fish, tofu, and vegetable soup. People slowly started coming in and soon enough, the place was packed and howling with conversation (the group upstairs kept slamming their cups, clearly inebriated and still going).

Heading back on the train, I realized how much it meant to see this other side of Hong Kong – a place that used to be a thriving local community, but is now threatened by large container ports and development. It’s a reminder of what will happen if Hong Kong continues to pollute/ignore local culture.

"Home of Overseas Chinese"

I found this website about Taishan (which hopes to teach the second-generation about their homeland) pretty interesting/amusing.

http://www.taishan.com/english/index.htm

It is estimated that over 75% of all overseas Chinese in North America until the mid-to-late 20th century claimed origin in Taishan, the city known as "Home of Overseas Chinese".

A (good) song stuck in my head...

Alley and I found Filfla, a Japanese indie band, at White Noise Records in Causeway Bay. Listen.

Missing before leaving

I try not to think about it. But with just three months left, I keep thinking: I’m going to miss Hong Kong. Just a few months ago, I was ready to leave. But now I feel as if I’m not ready, that I haven’t lived here long enough. I think about how I will miss everyone I’ve met (from my fellow Fulbrighters to all the wonderful local, mainland, international, and expat writers to random musicians/artists/students to chance encounters to the cashiers who work at Wellcome to my the security guard at my building who nods and smiles at me when I come in late at 1am). I’m going to miss the theme song that plays in the MTR station; the plethora of escalators; Vita drinks (specifically soy milk, lemon tea, and mango-orange); the red glow of street markets smelling of durian, oranges, and cilantro; the beautiful beaches where little kids run around with buckets of sand; adorable Chinese kids; the busy streets/buildings of Central and the bright multi-colored cityscape at night; the sudden burst of greenery; visiting the islands (the drying fish and shrimp, the no-car rule, the banana trees); homemade dumpling soup; laundry drying out the window; double-decker buses and trolleys; the Octopus card; the heavy smell of incense and Chinese radio next door; eating dinner Chinese-style; Food Forum (tasty fast food: Korean kimchee noodle pot); the manic markets of Mong Kok selling clothes and tons of other stuff you don’t need; the grime and grit of wet markets; jazz and blues nights; old women and men exercising/hanging out at the parks; the flower markets full of bamboo, orchids, and peonies; temples; the long trek up to Caine Road when the escalator stops running at midnight; the cats in my neighborhood and on Wellington; Japanese candy stores; the crazy haircuts teenagers have; ladies night on Wednesdays (free drinks); cheap and delicious bakeries; walking down the street and seeing so many Chinese faces (strangely comforting); hearing Cantonese...