The Yarn Factory

Cathay Pacific gave me a gift over the Christmas holidays - a 17-hour stopover in Hong Kong. That's right, 17 long hours!! I landed in Hong Kong at 5:40 in the morning and my flight home to Bangalore was scheduled at 10:40 in the night. God forbid that it be late!! I had researched Hong Kong prior to the flight, and this being my first visit to Hong Kong, I determined that it was best to stick to the tourist spots. I usually prefer to travel alone to new places, but I made two friends(Priya and Deepu) on the LAX-HKG leg who wanted to tour around Hong Kong too. Deepu was ready to depend on my internet-fueled-knowledge of Hong Kong, but Priya wouldn't hear of it, so off we went to book a transit tour. We signed up for a three hour tour with Vigor tours - they pick you up from the arrival area of the airport and return you to departures. The tour costs about 200 Hong Kong dollars(a very affordable 28 USD). I was initially a little apprehensive about the language barrier, but I needn't have worried – Hong Kong citizens speak passable English, albeit spiced liberally with Cantonese. The key to understanding Hong Kong English is recognizing the fact that they leave out the last sounds of each word when they speak. For example, the tongue twister “Betty bought some butter, but the butter was bitter butter, so she bought some better butter to make the bitter butter into better butter” will be “Bett bo sa butt, ba the butt wa bitt butt, so sh bo sa bett butt to may the bitt butt int bett butt”. Feel free to sneeze liberally through the sentence. Speaking of free – you also have to replace the “th” sound with the “f“ sound. When I asked the receptionist at the counter how long the tour was, and when I should report to the pick-up point, she said “You go be hee-ya a nigh-fert. The tri ee free howa lon”; read: “You gotta be here at nine thirty. The trip is three hours long”. Simple, you say? Well, these tips sure make it easy to understand Hong Kong English, but I still haven't figured out the keys to speaking Hong Kong English. For example, when I went into Starbucks and said “Wah trip sho espress anh free froo bah plee, tay aw”(for “One triple shot espresso and three fruit bars please, take away”), the girl behing the counter gave me a strange look. I quickly saved the situation by shifting into survival aka hand-actions-assisted-lip-sync mode.

I had some more hours to kill before the trip was due to start, so I just roamed about the vast expanse of the arrivals lounge. The airport is very clean and mess-free. Full points there. There are very few power outlets(for laptops) and internet connectivity is slower than the dial-up connection I used years back. This was true even sitting right under a hotspot. That was very disappointing. Precisely at 9:30, the tour guide appeared and took charge of the 25-or-so of us going on the trip that day. Deepu was troubled by some problems of the ahem, digestive kind, so the task of chaperoning Priya fell to me. Now I was real happy that we had booked the tour – I do not want a hysterical girl to pacify in case we got lost, ran out of cash, hungry, thirsty and beyond flight time. The guide, Willie, was a very old guy who used a baggage trolley as a walker to get around. He was very affable though, and very knowledgeble about hong Kong. The tour company had arranged a large air-conditioned bus to take us around Hong Kong. What struck me immediately was how clean the roads looked and the totally clean air. We were first taken over the Tsing Ma bridge. The bridge is a marvel of modern engineering. There are two tiers to the bridge – the upper tier has two trafficways, one to carry traffic in each direction. The lower tier has trafficways under the ones on the upper tier – these lower tiers are covered. The lower tier trafficways are used by maintenance and emergency vehicles normally, and by general traffic in case of adverse weather conditions. The lower deck also has tracks in the middle, allowing the metro rail traffic to use the bridge. A true marvel, indeed. We were then taken to a viewing platform, from where we were able to view the entire bridge from end-to-end. I obliged many tourists who wanted to have their photos clicked against the backdrop of the Hong Kong skyline.

Next, we were taken to the offensive-smelling Tshim Sha Tsui promenade, which houses the Avenue of Stars(the Chinese equivalent of the Hollywood Walk of Fame). Hand prints of countless unknown (to me!!) Chinese actors and actresses paved the walkway. The only ones I recognized were those of Bruce Lee, Jet Li and Jackie Chan. Again, I obliged tourists who had their hands stuck into the hand prints of stars, looking up at the camera and squinting against the afternoon sun, all the while trying to smile. Priya bought a momento for Hong Kong $10, choosing to pay the same amount in USD. By the time she realized her mistake, I was shaking with laughter and the momento seller was on his way to the nearest money exchanger.

Next trip was on the (very) famous Star ferry. We took a short five-minute ride across to the Central island of Hong Kong. This place is much like Bangalore, with expensive cars jostling for space with public transport vehicles on narrow, congested and noisy roads. We took the bus to a famous temple in Hong Kong, the Man-Mo temple. The temple is nestled amongst high-rise residential complexes. There is a drum inside the temple which you sound on entry, to alert the Gods that you have arrived. There are two figurines inside – the figurine of Man Tai, if touched, bestows blessings of learning and knowledge upon you, while the figurine of Mo Tai bestows success in profession. I touched both, for good measure(now blessings too – Made in China? He he). Large spiral incence sticks burn slowly inside the temple giving it a vibrant look and asthma-inducing air. I saw many tourists(children, mostly) running out, sputtering and coughing. I too lit some incence sticks and came out. On exiting the temple too, you sound the drum, to thank the Gods for their patient listening, and to tell them that you are now leaving.

Next we went to a street where antiques were on display. Except for Chinese boards, this road looked like a local Bangalore street. I looked at everything, but bought nothing. Priya, being suddenly interested in some emerald chains, tried haggling with some hawkers. When I realized she was getting nowhere, I told her to use the calculator technique(you type the amount on the calculator. Vendor diagrees – presses AC and enters new amount. You disagree – press AC and enter new amount, and so on until the haggling stops.). The only problem was, we did not have a calculator, so out came Priya's international-roaming-enabled cell phone. After fifteen minutes(during which she tried to teach the hawker to use the calculator on her cell phone(in pantomines, no less!!) and he in turn, calling up her relatives in Madras on international roaming rates – imagine vendor pressing the call button three times and Priya jumping up and down screaming “No, No!!”. I had long given up and was laughing like a maniac.), we gave up. After half an hour of aimless wandering, we returned to the bus, which took us to the central metro station for the ride back to the airport. The station is located in the basement area of a large mall. Here, Willie handed us tickets for the metro ride to the airport, and we tipped him generously. I was firm that I wanted to sample local Chinese food and not just imported fast food, so off we went to find places that sold authentic Chinese dumplings. Here we learnt the harsh truth that it is almost impossible for tourists to find a decent place to have lunch between 12 and 2 in the afternoon. After a quick tour of the restaurants, we finally decided to eat at McDonalds. A greasy burger, fries and large coke later, we waddled to the basement, where we swiped cards and waited for the train to arrive. As the large counter counted down to zero, the train doors opened and a soothing Chinese voice informed us that we were 23 minuted away from the airport. In exactly 23 minutes, we had arrived back at the airport.

It was just 2 in the afternoon. Almost 9 hours to go. I very briefly considered going on the tour again, but Priya's glare nipped that dream in the bud. That's when I remembered with a shock – I had planned to shop for a camera in Hong Kong for a friend, and I had forgotten it completely. In panic, we looked around and fortunately found a shop selling cams. I did manage to buy one with a higher resolution and lower cost than was available in the US, and it came with the standard international Sony warranties too!! We then submitted to the hassle of immigration and security check. Though the queues were long and winded, the cheery staff more than made up for it. Once inside, we went searching for Deepu, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, we spotted a free couch and decided to camp out there. I was carrying a book and decided to read it, and guard the baggages while Priya slept. I woke her up when I was through with the book. I went to sleep while she went around looking for a free internet terminal(Good luck finding one!!) and hot coffee. I woke up two hours later with another two hours to go for the flight. Decided to take care of business, converting all our Hong Kong dollars to USD. Then it was freshen-up and tea time, when we heard the announcement for the Bangalore flight.

Yay!! Thank fo yaw hospitali Ho Kon, anh ho too bee bah soo!!

The unspeakable has happened. This has happened never before, atleast to me. Since it was totally unexpected, I had no idea how to react. I was in the throes of this serious medical condition, when this happened. Fortunately, it seems to be a respite from the anathema.

Yes, gentle readers, I have been tagged, by none other than Sleeping Devil.

I have read some blogs where the authors decline to tag up a tag. I know very well the futility of such an exercise when confronted by such a formidable adversary as the Sleeping Devil herself, therefore I will not act like a cow being led to slaughter, rather responding to the tag in a dignified manner.

For those of you who did not visit the tag link above(I know you didn't), this is what the tag is all about:

1. Link to your original tagger(s) and list these rules in your post.

2. Share seven facts (or more) about yourself in the post.

3. Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.

4. Let them know they've been tagged.

Given that I talk talk and talk only about myself in my posts, such a tag seems rather meaningless, but I will try to let you on some hitherto unknown facts about me. Here goes:

1. I am an engineer by education, but a journalist/novelist/columnist by ambition. Someday this ambition too shall come true.

2. I harbor severe atheistic leanings. However, lacking the courage to reject God outright, I cannot proclaim myself an atheist without fear of risking God's wrath.

3. I am extremely straightforward and am a stickler for rules and procedures. Very often, this attitude backfires on me, yet I act again, refusing to give up. In most situations, I try to tell the truth, only resorting to lies under duress.

4. I love to drive. Friends have found my passion for driving undiminished even after 8 continuous hours at the wheel of a non-cooperative vehicle, in unforgiving conditions.

5. I cook very well, being trained from a very young age by mom and sis. I know enough to cook atleast three four-course meals without repeating a dish.

6. I am a voracious reader. I read any author, any genre. At those rare times in my life when I am far away from a library, I even read user manuals of household appliances. No kidding, this one.

7. I love rain more than anything else. Nothing like a deluge to get my spirits high. Thunder and lightning mark most of my creative outbursts.

There. I have successfully responded to the tag. I am required to tag seven others, but I know nobody else who reads this blog AND has a blog of their own. If, however, you fall into this category, please consider yourself tagged, and do the needful.

P.S: Nowadays, I have been working on something quite outside my path-familiare, therefore please forgive the slow pace on the blog. I promise you I will have something to show for at the end of it.

I was very shy and quiet as a child. Like any other child, I too used to get into violent fights and brawls, but only with those kids who were very close to me. The outside world would see me as a docile young kitten with a mild temperament and impeccable manners. So much so that when Mom told others of the thrashings sis was subjected to at my hands, they thought Mom was a habitual liar(Mom dropped the complaining habit soon after). No, I wasn't doing it unconsciously. I quite often went out of the way to be polite and nice to people. This habit of mine put me into a discomfiting situation one fine day. I should have seen it coming.

Every summer, we used to make a trip to our native place in Kerala. It used to be a whirlwind tour, visiting our aunts, uncles and cousins, as well as those of our parents. Since we were the only members of the family outside Kerala at that time, at each home, we were given receptions befitting royal visits. Mango and jackfruit delicacies at every home(Mom used to carry a strip of Digene in her purse permanently. We used to pop one into our mouths each time we came out of one house, before going into the next one).

This happened when I was ten or eleven years old. We had gone to visit my grand-aunt(Mother's aunt). She was known throughout the extended family to be an excellent cook(Relatives visiting her home used to time their visits to coincide with lunch or dinner. She was that famous). So off we went to visit her, empty stomachs and all. As expected, there was a delicious spicy fragrance greeting us at the gate. We eagerly went in and greeted grand-aunt, and after the customary greeting, she invited us to sample a seasonal delicacy that she had made for us. This was where it all started.

Mom and sis accepted immediately, whereas, for some strange reason, I decided to play the decent guy. In a very formal and polite vein, I declined(the plan being that she would insist, and then I would accept. And then polish off whatever was placed in front of me). I had not accounted for the informal and unrefined(albeit loving) attitude of these people who lived in the beautiful countryside, far away from the polished etiquette of city life.

She said, “Looks like our little boy is not hungry. It's ok, you both eat. Come on”.

And I sat there watching my mom and sis gorge on the delicacies, while I had to be content with the smells and sights of the delicacy being devoured. Aunt couldn't get why sis was laughing her head off. Years later, to this day, the story is recounted at every family function, embarrassing me to no end. But one thing is for sure – I have learnt my lesson!!