International borders have become a routine for me over the past months-exit form: filled out next to my passport photo page, paper clip on my Chinese visa, waiting in line. China makes you patient. The woman's eyes darted between my passport photo and my face at least 7 times before she let me pass-a testament to how much I've changed.
Back on the bus, we crossed a bridge and rounded jagged hills climbing out of the sea. A few floating villages hid themselves in poverty by the border. Around one hill, and a wall of identical high-rise apartment buildings stood against our approach in the distance-my first view of Hong Kong, and an impressive one at that. I was beginning to feel the excitement of exploring a new place.
The bus let me off in the middle of Kowloon (pronounced Gaolong), the highly developed peninsula pointing south to Hong Kong Island. It was dark already, hot-the straps on my pack pressed the humidity hard against my back. The conference would begin the next day, and in the meantime I had no plans and nowhere to sleep.
I have traveled all over Europe, North America, and Asia, spent long periods of time alone backpacking, navigated countless cities, but never have I been so overwhelmed by a place as I was upon first arriving in Hong Kong. I walked to an intersection, pulled out a map, and tried to get my bearings. Everywhere around me were people, lights, cars, smells. Within 20 minutes or so, I'd made my way on foot south towards the tip of the peninsula, arriving at the infamous Chungking Mansions, a decrepit tenement of low-budget rooms, teeming with African and Indian immigrants. It was hot, and there was a definite odor throughout the building. I decided to try a place on the 7th floor that had received alright reviews. The line for the elevator pulled away from its door and around the corner, sweating en masse. I asked for the stairs, and was told to just wait in line. So, I did.
Thirty minutes later, I'd made it to the front of the line, when an Indian man approached me and asked if I was going to the Pay-Less Guesthouse, presenting me with a business card. Indeed I was. I was a little skeptical, but he asked me to follow him-I thought that there might have been a better way to get there than this elevator (the building is separated into a labyrinthine set of blocks), so I followed him, only to arrive at the back of the adjacent elevator line. He told me we were going to the 8th floor. He let out a slight grin to another man, and I realized what was going on. I told him that the sign had said it was on the 7th floor. He told me it was a typo. I asked to see his card again. It said "7/F". I told him I was going to the 7th floor. He finally realized his ruse was up, and demanded that I go with him, that the 7th floor was fully booked. I politely declined. I'd lost my place in line, and waited again to avoid any conflicts.The elevator he'd switched me into only went to even numbered floors, so I took the stairs down a level. He hadn't lied. Pay-Less Guesthouse was fully booked. I spent an hour climbing the stairs up and down, floor by floor, checking each lodging. This one was full, that one wouldn't go any less than 300 HKD-I was not happy. I finally found a place with a free room, and managed to haggle with the manager until I was satisfied, paying more than I had originally intended. He told me I couldn't check in for an hour, so I left my bags with him (locked), and went to get water and find an internet café. Somewhere in the maze of Middle Eastern, African, and South Asian stores and restaurants jammed within the first few floors of the building, I found an internet café, and joined the multi-ethnic group of customers. In the corner, an African man was using VoIP to call his home country, almost in tears that they wouldn't send him payment for the 4 out of 14 crates of some unnamed product he'd brought with him and managed to sell. An Indian woman next to me was tending to her "Happy Farm" on Facebook. I checked my e-mail, and looked up a place to get food.
After checking in to my room, I went for a walk. Down Nathan Road, past the grandiose Peninsula Hotel, and to the Harbor at the tip of the peninsula, facing the stunning nightscape of Hong Kong Island. The stress of the previous hours melted away, and I remembered why I love traveling. I spent some time sitting, taking in arguably the best and most breathtaking skyline in the world, and then continued my walk.
I am very thankful that I have the opportunity to travel now. Not necessarily because I don't think I'll have the opportunity again later in my life, but because I have a suspicion (and I say this as humbly as possible) that in the not too distant future I will have too much money, too many responsibilities, and too little patience to effectively experience the underbelly of a city; to arrive with no accommodations or plans, and to wander aimlessly through back alleys for hours. For Hong Kong, these alleys, the decrepit and infested chambers of Chungking Mansions are as much a part of the city as the extravagant shopping plazas and world-class hotels, the trade conferences and business meetings.The next morning, I made my way to the Grand Hyatt Hotel to check in for the Research Forum, and had apparently gone from rags to riches in the period of a night. My room had a great view, and a waterfall shower, which made me quickly forget the heat and humidity of the previous night. I went downstairs and lay in the hot tub for a bit before hitting the steam room, and then adorning my suit for the opening dinner. The conference was a place for us all to discuss our difficulties and frustrations in performing our research, to learn from each other's experiences, and to see China and the Special Administrative Regions of Hong Kong and Macau in a new light.
On the second day we were joined by respected Hong Kong journalists and political analysts Willy Lam, Frank Ching, and Mark Sheldon to help us better understand Hong Kong's past, present, and future. That night, we were invited to a reception at the US Consular General of Hong Kong's residence on the peak of Hong Kong Island. There was good food, interesting conversations, and some great views. On the third day, we had lunch with some leaders of groups invested in Hong Kong's development, and then made our way to the ferry port for a jet-foil to Macau.
Macau is a cultural anomaly. Once a small fishing island, Macau was colonized by the Portuguese in the 16th century, giving modern Macau interesting melds of languages, architecture, cuisines, and people. The political clashes between the Portuguese and the Macanese were more violent than many Macau officials would like to admit, and the Portuguese tried to give Macau back to the Chinese during the 1970s. The Chinese politely refused, fearing how it would affect people's impressions of China's intentions for still British-controlled Hong Kong, and the Portuguese remained in control of the island until the Chinese regained control of both regions in the historical 1997 handover. In 1962, promising to promote tourism, Stanley Ho, a Hong Kong entrepreneur who'd fled from the Japanese to Macau during WWII gained an official government-sanctioned monopoly over the gambling industry in Macau. He established several casinos, and maintained his control until 2002, when many Vegas casino entrepreneurs joined in the fun. The result has been a massive boom in tourism and gambling, bringing in revenues that topple those of Las Vegas. The casinos overshadow the Portuguese-influenced lanes and alleys throughout the island, and it seems that there's only more growth in sight, with some developers discussing filling in the water between the island and mainland China with land in an attempt to increase tourism and provide more land for casinos.
After sightseeing and listening to presentations during the day, a few friends and I met up with one of my friends' friends, a card shark who's currently living in Macau. He took us around to several of the free shows in the casinos, and then to a quite infamous room in the Grand Lisboa, one of the older casinos. As I'd heard previously, the circular room promises one-stop shopping for Chinese prostitutes. You walk into the room, and the prostitutes strut around the circular wall, waiting to be picked out. (We, of course, were only curious--not in the market.) Unfortunately, upon our arrival the girls were lined up outside the room in a shakedown by Macanese police. We took a few glances before being waved away, and heading over to the Venetian, one of the largest buildings (by floor space) in the entire world. What better place than one of the biggest buildings in the world to build the Guinness Record-winning world's largest house of cards. We wandered around for a bit, and then bid farewell to our card shark guide at his office, the high stakes poker area, for another night at work.Back to Hong Kong the next day by jet-foil, I said goodbye to many of my friends and contacts, and got ready for my over-land trip back to Kunming. I've posted photos from Hong Kong and Macau, and I'll write more about the rest of my trip and post more photos soon!
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