But wait, there's more...!

I just took the ferry back from Lamma Island to Hong Kong Island, and I have a little bit of time to kill before meeting Annie. The boat ride back was spectacular. I sat out on the back deck, with the wind and spray in my face, drinking an organic English beer and watching the orange circle disappear behind the fishing boats and long, wispy clouds. Spectacular: "beautiful in a dramatic and eye-catching way." - OED. QED.

I think from my previous posts it might seem like all I've been doing in Hong Kong is getting caught in annoying hassles. I want to clear that up by making two points. First, in a way, the difference between a hassle and an adventure is just perspective. Second, I think I write more about my difficulties and mistakes because it's fun to write about them.

I did a lot more yesterday than just solve the Hong Kong Transportation Issue. I bought some Hong Kong DVDs (including A Streetcar Named Desire and Wuthering Heights), which the seller assured me were in English. I had a delicious Hong Kong-style vegetarian lunch of fried noodles with mushrooms (you were right, Brian, the mushrooms are good here). I bought some top-grade tea that was really more expensive than I can afford (but I read they have hot water on the trains, so now I can make my own tea). I picked up a copy of the South China Morning Post and got a free packet of tissues. I guess I bought a lot of things. But I also talked to people. And I ran up and down the same street ten times looking for a vegetarian Shanghai-style restaurant that didn't exist anymore. At the east end of the street, everybody was sure it was to the west. On the west end of the street, everybody was sure it was to the east. Finally somebody in the middle actually knew the place I was looking for and told me the sad news. Wait...I guess that was another hassle. I took the Star Ferry back to Kowloon and watched the changing light patterns and designs on the buildings back on the island.

When I got back to Mirador Mansions, the normal elevators were out of service, so I walked to a different elevator a little farther away. A chubby, gaudily dressed woman with dyed blond hair walked in, as did a middle-aged security guard. They seemed to be discussing something quietly. When the elevator door closed, they looked at me. Then they continued their conversation, and I realized what kind of negotiations they were engaged in. On the 6th floor I was surprised to see the security guard walk out alone. The woman pressed another button.
"Where are you from?" she said.
"America. You?"
"Malaysia. Want to come to my room?"
"No thanks."
She smiled and shrugged, and I stepped off the elevator on my floor. For the last two days, most of the rooms in the Cosmic Guest House have been taken up by a hockey team from India. I first saw them walking outside the Mansions with hockey sticks tied to their backs. I walked through the lobby just in time to see the Indian hockey team leaving with their bags and black-and-white jerseys. The Mirador Mansions attract many different kinds of people.

I want to describe one more thing before I go. Yesterday, when I was riding the trolley, I noticed two men dismantling some of the bamboo scaffolding that seems to be everywhere. One of them had climbed to the top, and was untying the bamboo poles and dropping them down to his partner. The entire structure, which was easily 50 feet or more off the ground, was made completely out of bamboo and what looked like thick black twine. Most of the structure had already been taken apart, so the man was at the top of what amounted to an extremely flimsy ladder. He wore no helmet and no other safety precautions were evident. He had both his legs wrapped around one of the poles, and was untying the twine with his hands.