How to Win at Mah Jong

Like most Chinese kids, I learned to play mah jong at a young age, mostly from watching my grandma play on the weekends with her floral sweater clad gang of senior sistas from around the block.

But even with this 'intense' training, my mah jong skills never really progressed over the years, since I usually played with fellow 'fake Chinese' or non-Chinese friends (which automatically made me the expert, oh yeaah). In Hong Kong, I've definitely had to up my game when playing against locals or anyone more Chinese than me, but my preference is still to win with the easiest and most hated hand, the worthless chicken, or let fate run its course (read: no strategy whatsoever).

Of course, some people are more competitive than others, as evidenced by a notice in my apartment block about an internal mah jong competition coming up. I forget how much the prize was, but I'm pretty sure the participants are more interested in winning the title of Mah Jong Master of our apartment block than anything else.

Not that I was thinking of entering or anything, but my curiosity got me googling for any guaranteed strategies at winning at mah jong, and turns out there are a ton! Like:

When you first get your tiles, make an immediate evaluation of how many tiles you are away from victory.

• If it's under 4, play to WIN.
• If it's 5, it really depends on whether you draw good tiles.
• And if you need 6 or more to win, just give up and play defensively (or to sabotage the others, if you prefer).

If you're playing to win, take lots of chances and discard anything you don't need. If you're playing for a draw, never discard a dragon (white board, green veggie or red centre) or wind (North, South, East, West) except your own, never show your tiles by calling 'seung' or 'pong', and discard tiles in the following order: isolated winds, numerals, dragons and special winds.

Another good thing to know is what to say when you actually win. Although it doesn't happen often, I thought I could just shout "HAHA! I WIN!" (哈哈, 我赢!) but apparently that doesn't quite work in Cantonese. What you're supposed to say is "SIK-WU! 食糊!" (lit. "EAT CONGEE!"), which can also be replaced by "JI-MOH!" (lit. "SELF TOUCH!") if you drew the winning tile yourself. Pretty kinky stuff, huh?

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Do we need armpit hair?

Lately, I listed a few things online on various buy/sell websites in HK trying to get rid of some junk in my apartment. Most of the items are gadget-related, like an electronic ENG/CHI dictionary, compact prosumer camera, iPhone4 case and a bluetooth headset (*hint hint* contact me if interested ;). I thought, since I never (and I mean never) use them, why not sell them to someone who might make better use of them, right?

The problem is, once people start calling me and making offers for my items, I immediately get all wishy-washy about whether I really want to sell it, since their sudden interest proves that what I've got is pretty damn hot and in demand! Naturally, I set the price high so it's above what they wanna pay, so then I feel pretty good that I get to keep something that other people want. Stupid, huh?

I guess it's also a matter of wondering whether you are getting rid of something that might actually come into use later (a typical thought for any packrat, I suppose). But then, this thought came up again when I was about to book an appointment for my first laser hair removal treatment, specifically for the underarms.

Suddenly, I found myself thinking, 'Sh*t, this is permanent man...NO more underarm hair in the future...so be 100% sure that this is what you want. Now, do you foresee any situation in the future where you might wish you still had underarm hair?'

After thinking long and hard, I couldn't think of any reason not to get rid of it, so I went ahead and booked my appointment. I can still cancel though, so if you know of any compelling reasons for having armpit hair, please let me know and I'll reconsider. :)

Zap or Keep?

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So-So Social

In the spirit of Social Media Week HK, I thought it's about time I 'socialized' my blog as well, or risk becoming a dinosaur in the digital world. Not that it'd be a bad thing, since dinosaurs rock, but you know, anything that simplifies the sharing process for people is probably a good idea.

So...what's new, you ask? Well, there's now a nifty Facebook Like Box integrated onto the right hand side of the page, as well as a lil tab on the left side that makes it easy to 'Like' or 'Tweet' the page you're currently on. Feel free to use, misuse and/or abuse them as much as you want!

A peek at the FB page

And, while we're on the topic of being social, let me introduce you to a few new friends of mine: Sherman, Jacky, Harry, Billy and Charlie... Find out who they are on my Facebook Page and let me know what you think!


(Note: Not all my friends are made of Fimo...or maybe they are... ;)

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MISSING!! Favourite concierges gone by...

It's that time of year again - Chinese New Year - and you know what that means… It's time to put on that tacky Chinese outfit you would never be seen in public with every other day of the year, time to drop our jaws for 20 minutes straight going 'wahhhh' for the same ol' fireworks in Victoria Harbour and of course, time to shirk around all those building reception and security guards that we don't really know or like enough to give them a red pocket (lai see).

I know it's proper etiquette to give all of them a lil somethin' somethin' for the hard work they've been doing for the past year, but I just don't believe in obligatory giving, especially when it's to the masses and to pseudo-strangers at that. In fact, I'm proud to say that I am a strong supporter of special treatment, both giving and getting (aren't we all?).

Anyway, now that the red pockets have been sneakily distributed to (only) those we've deemed 'favorites', I can't help but reminisce at some of our favorite building concierges gone by...*sniff sniff*

Eggie

Eggie aka. Elgar/Egwart/Egwar (?) was the first reception guy in our building when we first moved to Hong Kong. A skinny, soft-spoken and dare I say nerdy guy, he could often be seen chatting on the phone with his 'girlfriend' (unconfirmed) during his regular graveyard shifts, unless he was asked for help, that is. No matter whether we asked him where we could order takeout, how to stream Premier League games or how to change our locks, he would always conduct intensive research before answering us, in the form of a 3 page handwritten note slipped discreetly into our mailbox the next morning. Sigh…he was so sweet!

Mickey

Mickey was a beautiful and sweet Hong Kong girl who always made me wonder what the hell she was doing as a reception girl in our building. To me, she could definitely enter and win any beauty pageant with her big (contact lens-enhanced) black eyes, porcelain skin and sweet as sugar giggles. One day, she even referred to our neighborhood as a 'garbage land' (translation: dump), so I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised when she silently disappeared one day…

Mongkok Guy

My personal favorite, Mongkok Guy was aptly named for his partly-shaved emo haircut and rough-looking features. A man in his mid-30s, one of his eyes was a little bit smaller than the other, which I assumed was a battle scar from a fight he'd survived versus other triad members in his past (or current?) life. Always friendly and helpful, we felt particularly hurt when he disappeared without telling us, especially when we had gone out on a limb by outwardly telling him he was "our favorite" guy! ::burn::

Unfortunately, all three of them disappeared without any notice at all, so I have no idea where they are now. I hope Eggie found a better job where he can actually spend the evenings with his said-girlfriend, and I have a feeling that Mickey and Mongkok Guy may have run off together (they seemed quite close and always worked the same shifts for some reason) but who knows?

If anyone out there has seen them, please let them know that they are sorely missed... and that their red pockets are here waiting for them! :'(

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Grandma's Toenail

A rather traumatic experience happened to me when I was in Taipei last weekend with my grandma. You see, after a day of walking around in the city, she was complaining about a bit of toe pain and she reckoned that it was because her big toenail was a little too long.

So there we were, sitting in our hotel room a few hours before dinner when my grandma, who was examining her somewhat blackened toenail with her leg up on the bed, asked me if I had a nail clipper. I said I didn't, but I was sure that the hotel staff would, so I ordered one up and five minutes later had it in my hands.

I didn't realize it at the time, but as I passed her the nail clipper, it was pretty obvious that it was gonna be ME doing the cutting (NOT her) so when she asked me to help,  I was a bit hesitant to say the least. Don't get me wrong, I love my G-ma to bits and it's not that I didn't want to help her, but 1) I'm not a huge fan of touching other peoples' feet and 2) I really didn't think I'd be able to cut her toenail at all!

You see, my G-ma's toenail is no ordinary toenail and I've had my share of battles with it over the years. Instead of being thin, flat and manageable, it's more like a fossilized rock that refuses to budge, taunting me with its multiple layers and various shades of beige-to-brown. There was no way I was going to even fit that into the mouth of the nail clipper...

 

But, being the good grand-daughter that I am, I gave it my best shot. With bare hands, I grabbed her toe and started clipping away like I would trim a hedge. Little by little, bits of nail flew off her toe like tiny eraser shreds, but the difference was microscopic.  I needed to try harder, so I rolled up my sleeves and started jabbing the nail clipper deeper into her toe going CLIP-CLIP-CLIP, thinking I was making good progress when suddenly, I heard her scream, "AIIYAA!!!"

I'll spare you the (gory) details but can you imagine the horror I felt when I found out I'd cut right into my G-ma's toe instead of her evil toenail!? AIYA, indeed...and total fail I might add. Needless to say, she preferred having toenail pain vs. having her toe cut open pain so the nail clipping session came to a screeching halt right then and there... Luckily, my G-ma didn't blame me at all, but I still feel horrible!! :-(

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BOO to BO Innovation

Thanks to my new job, I had the (dis)pleasure of dining at BO Innovation recently, and even though it is now weeks ago, the experience is definitely one that hasn't faded away quickly. Foodies in Hong Kong have surely heard of BO but for those who haven't, BO is hailed by many to be one of the best restaurants in the world due to owner and "Demon Chef" Alvin Leung's wildly creative and experimental style of cooking. And experimental it was.

The meal began with Pat Chun, a combination of mousse-like cream, pomelo, pineapple, tomato and vinegar, which I managed to swallow like I would take medicine (quick and without tasting it). 

Next was the Molecular Xiao Long Bao, which was a little jelly sphere filled with pork broth meant to pop in your mouth, giving you all the flavors of a xiao long bao without you having to chew or bite anything. But what is this - made for people without teeth? The little sphere did in fact pop like a ripe pimple inside my mouth, and while the juices spilled out I once again had to swallow it quickly to just get rid of it.

At this point, I knew that this super high-end molecular meal was definitely not for me, but I had no choice but to stay as it was a full-on media lunch. So, a few (somewhat) normal dishes later, we were served the Nitro dish, which was essentially a big lump of ginger tea 'cooked' in liquid nitrogen. While I watched the waiter tossing the lumps in a steaming bowl of chemicals, I really wanted to skip this course but again, peer pressure prevailed and I was given a huge shit-shaped lump to put into my mouth.

The experience was like sticking my tongue on a frozen chair-lift, except it was totally inverted and instead of only my tongue being stuck to ice, it was my entire mouth. While all eyes were on me, spitting it out was not an option and by the time I managed to break it down and swallow it my mouth felt all scratched up.

Finally, it was time for dessert and I still had a glimmer of hope that it'd be good, seeing that it had almond as a main ingredient. Instead, we were given the Sandalwood, which was a pot of tofu-like substance with hawthorn and actual smoke that smelled like incense from a Chinese temple. We were told to inhale the smoke first, and then dig into the contents of the pot, but after smelling the burnt incense smell, it felt like I was eating incense ash ice cream.

Unfortunately, Alvin Leung himself was sitting next to me at this point so I managed to get a few (small) spoonfuls in, but I quickly covered up my pot to avoid having any more of the disgusting dessert.

Overall, I can appreciate Alvin's creativity given that there's definitely not enough of it in Hong Kong, but the entire dining experience felt more like a lab experiment to me than anything else. It reminded me of when I was a kid and used to mix all the leftovers from the dimsum table together for fun, like fish eyeballs, chicken feet bones, pork fat, pepper and a slosh of jasmine tea. The difference is, I never forced anyone to eat it...

Of course, there are many people out there who absolutely adore BO Innovation, for whatever reasons I as a simpletongue won't understand. For another perspective, check out the review by Luxeat (who took all the pictures above).

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Mong Kok Tree Trunk Stumps Beggar

 

Today I came across a beggar at one of the busiest pedestrian crossings in Hong Kong: Argyle Street X Sai Yeung Choi Street. At first, I wasn't sure how I noticed him given the crazy amount of people everywhere, but on second thought, I must have been watching my footing while crossing the road, which is how I came to notice a gingerbread skin-toned person lying face down on the ground.

This beggar, whom I refer to as the Mong Kok Tree Trunk Stumps Beggar, lay perfectly still amidst all the human traffic around him, and never once looked up to cast a pitiful stare. Instead, he let his legs stumps do the talking, which were surprisingly thick and meaty. If I were to guess, I'd think he was some sort of runner or athlete before he was kidnapped and/or forced into begging. He must be extra upset for losing his (probably) muscular legs, which might be why he keeps his head down at all times.  :(

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The thin line between friend and foe

It's a funny feeling to be leaving a company. Having spent a good amount of time there, you think you'd have developed all sorts of comrades who would feel the same way as you about stuff. I mean, we've all been through the same shits. Ate all the same crap in the neighborhood. Got harassed by the same tea ladies, etc.

Some of them, you know you're gonna stay in touch with. These are the ones you would consider calling your "friends", if only you were more sure that they also considered you one and not just a 'colleague'. Some of them were simply lunch buddies, people you never would go to lunch with unless it was in a group. And some of them, you just couldn't wait to forget about one day (can't old age come any faster??)

The thing is, all of us go through phases when we enter a company. It may be excitement when you first start, getting familiarized with everything in your first months, and eventually becoming good at your job and proud of the company you work for (god knows how much money the company spends on making that happen)! 

But there comes a day when you will get jaded, tired of the way things work, bored and unchallenged, and there is no other choice but to leave, and you realize that you cannot be friends with anyone who is still riding the wave of fun and excitement at the company. For they do not see the faults of the company as you do, and they will defend the company as if it's their own, and start to see you as the enemy who's trying to tell them that Santa Claus is not real. That is when you know you've become their FOE.

Nothing you say can be trusted. Everything about you is negative. You are a poison to the company. The happy workers don't want to associate with you anymore. And you know what? I'm fine with that. Go ahead and ride that happy train into the company. I hope you enjoy your ride. But perhaps one day, when that ride ends, we can talk again, and I'll be here with my big ears to hear ya bitch.

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Hello Kitty Toes

With HK's "winter" approaching and no shortage of 8 year old girls around (physically or mentally), REEBOK has created an ultra kawaii, super soft and snuggly Hello Kitty sneaker.

Now, I'm no Hello Kitty fan but the REEBOK X HELLO KITTY PT-20 has got the prepubescent me squealing with delight! It's almost too cute to resist, but I will anyway, given that we're in HK where the streets are littered with curry fishballs, bubble tea pearls, cockroaches galore and cigarette butts. Kudos to whoever manages to pull them off though!

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Drug overdose!

I don't get sick often, but when I do, I try to avoid seeing the doctor as much as possible, especially in Hong Kong. Why is this?

First of all, it's a hassle to expense the bill (yea, I'm that lazy). Second, I still don't have a doctor to call my own, so it's always some random wo/man. And third, I have a feeling the doctors here don't really care about their patients, nor do they really know (or want to know) what the problem is.

What happens then is after your brief consultation, the doctor prescribes a truckload of medications for you to take, each one apparently canceling out the others' effect. For instance, if you have a rash, you'd probably get:

• 1 small tub of cream
• 6 antihistamines for the itchiness
• 8 slow-release painkillers
• 16 stomach neutralizers so the painkillers don't give you stomach ulcers
• 24 antibiotic pills to kill the germs
• 9 pills to lift your mood (cuz having a rash probably made you clinically depressed)
• and maybe even a few panadols in case you suddenly develop some sort of fever. 

It's like the doctor's saying, "I don't REALLY know what you've got, but here's a bit of everything so we hit all birds with (way more than) one stone." I mean, I've never lived in a place where the doctors give you so many pills to take! Back in Holland, going to the doctor was completely useless, since s/he'd just tell you to go home and rest, leaving you weak, empty-handed and helpless to develop whatever you had into its full-blown state (hello, bronchitis!). In Hong Kong though, they do the complete opposite and over-medicate.

I heard though that it's not just the doctors' fault. Since patients need to pay a fee each time they see the doctor (around HK$200), they expect to get their money's worth (read: medicine). So, regardless of whether they have the right pills or not for their symptoms, they take their pills obediently. For me though, the occasional visit to the doctor is not a way to get meds, it's a way to get peace of mind. As long as I know I'm not dying from some life-threatening disease, I usually take those pills (you get them automatically from the doctor's office) and throw them out once I get home.

Anyone with me, or do you usually take all the pills your doctor gives you?

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