Squattie potties

I just got back from a biz trip in China and I can still smell the strong stench of urine from the women's toilets...peeeuuuw! Yes, I've complained about my company's toilets before, but I'm so glad that at least in HK we have seated toilets that do (sometimes) flush.

I know the argument for squattie potties and how they are supposed to be more hygienic, but c'mon! There's a reason why Chinese toilets smell so freakin bad, thanks to a) all the splatter and b) the baskets full of used (ugh) TP. It's a nightmare just to have to go to the toilet!

I remember the first time I needed to use a squatter and asking my friend how exactly to do it (you know, cuz it's pretty vital information). But, have you ever thought about how backwards that is - to have to ask how to squat to go to the toilet? I'm sure that just as kittens know how to use the litter box by instinct, squatting must have been the most natural thing for humans to do when they needed to go to the toilet. But you know, we in the West need to learn how to do this all over again.

Anyway, just when I thought I had it mastered, I saw this sign in a Chinese washroom:

Now I'm all confused again... which way are we supposed to face!? :(

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Pure Conspiracy

When I first joined PURE Fitness in HK, I vowed never to wear the free workout clothes that they offered to all their members. I mean, when you think about how many times those faded black t-shirts and shorts have been drenched in other people's sweat, it's no wonder (yeeeeuck!).

However, it didn't take long before I succumbed to wearing the PURE uniform more and more due to pure laziness. For one, I didn't have to plan/bring what to wear at the gym anymore, and it totally saved me from doing any more laundry than I already had to. :D 

BUT! Has anyone else noticed how deliberately unfashionable their outfits are?! Don't get me wrong, I love my gym, but why is it that the more I go, the more I feel like a big fat blob? After some serious thinking, I've finally figured it out:

PURE wants us to feel fat(!!)

The over-sized, faded black t-shirts that drape over our bodies...the super high-cut, white sport socks that make any leg look chunkier...the nylon shorts with a tiny elastic waistband made to squeeze all your stomach fat into the bubbliest muffin top there ever existed...and the built-in underwear that's just thin enough to turn into a built-in thong once you break into a jog.

Of course, I could just start bringing my own workout tops and shorts...but when it comes down to muffin top vs. extra laundry...pass the muffins please! :)

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Vampire Teabags

Today I was having random thoughts in my head about vampires (no, not Edward Cullen) but the Chinese word for it and whether it had anything to do with ginger. You see, 殭屍 (goeng si) is 'vampire' in Cantonese, but the first character sounds a lot like 'ginger'. Anyway, after a bit of searching, I not only found the answer to my question, but discovered a rather new piece of slang.

Do you know what 殭屍茶包 (vampire teabag) means? Go on, take a wild guess. Yes, think nasty...even dirtier... and yes, do go there. If your mind led you somewhere close to a woman's toilet trash bin and the treasures that lay within, you are SO right!

There's even a joke in Cantonese about this, and it goes something like this:

Three vampires walk into a bar to order drinks.
Vampire A says, "I'll take one shot of fresh chicken blood!"
Vampire B says, "I'll have a pork blood milkshake, thanks."
Vampire C says, "And I'll have one hot water, please."
Bartender says, "What? You're a vampire, don't you want something bloody?"
Vampire C says, "No thanks! I found something nice in the ladies' washroom - *wink*!"

Here's the official definition, care of Cantonese Sheik. You'll never look at an 'M' product the same way...lol!

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Me vs. Tea Lady - Round 2

The latest battle between me and the office Tea Lady came about after yet another cockroach decided to rear its ugly face on my desk. This time, a rather large, yellow roach was caught creepy-crawling on my office telephone receiver. But by the time I hollered "ROACH!" at the top of my lungs, that little bastard had disappeared, making me look like a total idiot in front of all my colleagues.

For those who know me, you know that I'm a magnet for cockroaches. Somehow, they always seem to pop up around me, no matter if they're on the street, outside my door or crawling on my cubicle walls. So, it's totally not my fault that I have cockroaches on my desk.

However, the Tea Lady thinks otherwise. She had already been commenting a lot about my eating patterns, for one.

"Eating AGAIN?" she'd say every time she saw me take out a snack from the fridge. It didn't matter if it was a box of blueberries or a small cup of yogurt, I was still a pig to her.

"Make sure it doesn't spill!" she'd say if she saw me reheating a cup of milk tea in the microwave. *rolls eyes* "Yes, ma'am..."

This morning, she cornered me in the pantry and told me how she had sprayed my cubicle down with insecticide and wiped my desk off with bleach.

"Do you know how much crap fell out of your phone when we turned it upside down?" she exclaimed. "You're eating too much! So many food particles came out!!"

"What!?" I said back. "What are you talking about? I don't eat over the phone! Plus I keep everything I have in sealed bags!"

Wanting to prove her point, she grabbed onto my upper arm with a death-grip (I'm SO not kidding, her bony hand closed in on my arm like a cold, mechanical robot's) and led me to my cubicle.

"Look! All this FOOD fell out of your phone!" she said. I looked down into the waste basket and saw what appeared to be black bits of crap, sort of like coffee grinds.

"What?! That's not food, that's probably cockroach eggs!" I shouted at her. "How could you think this is food, geez, I told you, I don't eat stuff over my phone! Ugh!" At this point, she was still gripping onto my arm so I pushed her hand off me and said, "LET ME GO!"

My arm felt properly bruised and I had to rub it for the rest of the morning to get it feeling normal again. I can't believe her! Wtf!

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Where's mah fruit?!

It's amazing how quickly we get spoiled in Hong Kong. I mean, do you ever find yourself saying:

"What? I need to wait FIVE WHOLE minutes for the MTR!?"

"AW MAN!! The escalator's been turned off and I hafta *gasp* WALK UP!?"

and of course:

"Wat the hell?! I didn't get no fruit today!?"

(Yea, that last one was me today...) I remember the first time I saw the fruit ladies come around the office. I could hear the loud chatter of two middle-aged ladies from afar coming closer and closer until suddenly, a pair of semi-bruised bananas landed on my desk with a THUD.

"Eat up, lenglui. It's bananas today," said the permed ladies who worked as a team. While one of them pushed around a box of bananas on wheels, the other one tossed the fruit onto our desks.

I couldn't help feeling like a monkey in a zoo. ('HOO HOO HAA HAA! What's it going to be today, lady?' I'd say while scratching my armpits and banging my keyboard against my forehead. 'Please oh please, toss me one of them yellow things!')

Nowadays, I've learned to look forward to getting my weekly dose of fruit. The fruit ladies have been kind, and sometimes bring us exotic varieties like longan and asian pears (ooOOoo).

But you know what? I got into the office a little later than usual today and my fruit basket was totally empty! Either somebody stole my bananas, or they simply decided to skip me! Bahhh..damn you fruit ladies!!

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More mobile drool

Remember how I was lusting over the SE W995 a few months ago? Well, I never ended up getting it. The reason? It may have photographed well but in real life, it was just bulky and a little too cheap looking for me. That seems to be the trend with Sony Ericsson phones. Great photography on-screen that makes you drool. Hugely disappointing once you have it in front of you. Bahhh!

I'm really hoping that's not the case with their new gem of a phone Jalou. It hasn't been released yet so only time will tell, but the photos I've seen of it so far have got me heart racin'!!!! :D

Isn't she gorgeous!? :))

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What's yours is mine

One thing about living in Hong Kong is that you've got to learn to share. Whether it's personal space, the (smoggy) air or even food, I've come to realize that nothing's really mine.

See, I'm the type of person who's never liked to share. Call it a phobia if you will, but it grosses me out. Biting from the same apple? Ew. Sharing a straw? No way. Licking from the same ice cream cone? Hell no! Eating someone's leftover rice/noodle dish (in all its messy mixed sauce glory)? Excuse me while I puke.

Unfortunately, I've encountered a few situations where I've had no choice but to share. Like in China for instance, when I'm eating in a group. I usually order a small set meal that comes with rice and 2-3 small dishes that I picked out personally, but there's always SOMEONE at the table who will stick their chopsticks into my dishes (without asking) and just peck away as if it was public property.

I'm sure this is all normal behaviour in China given that it's a collectivist society, but my selfish Western self is screaming, "Back off! Get your own dishes!!"

Another time, I had brought a bag of grapes with me for a taxi ride into the city with a colleague. I kindly offered him some, but was appalled when he took possession of the entire bag without once offering it back to me. I managed to pluck a few grapes for myself once or twice during our 15 minute ride, but I couldn't help thinking, "What the @#$!!! Those are MY freakin' grapes, and here i am feeling bad for taking them back!"

To be honest, I don't really mind sharing (as long as it doesn't involve sharing spit) but I'd be much happier if it was I who offered or them who asked. It's just a different feeling when you're suddenly forced to share, especially when the huge box of juicy sliced papaya you were looking forward to ALL afternoon is reduced to 3 mushy pieces after your desk is stormed by colleagues armed with small plastic forks.

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Mongkok Foot Scrunching Beggar

This beggar needs no introduction. Seated at the top of one of the busiest MTR exits in Hong Kong (Mongkok E2), it's a miracle that he doesn't get trampled by the millions of emo teens, sneaker freaks or gadget addicts that frequent the famed Sai Yeung Choi St. area each day.

The Mongkok Foot Scrunching Beggar sits on a square of newspaper with his head hung low and his crutch laid out in front of him. While one of his legs is folded under him (probably crippled), his other leg is kept active by a constant scrunching and unscrunching motion in his toes.


Whenever I see him, I swear I can feel the pins and needles and that slow, painful ache that you get from sitting too long. I mean, can you imagine sitting there all day long, scrunching your toes over and over again, just to keep the blood flowing in you, while tens of thousands of oblivious people pass you by?

He definitely picked a prime location to beg in terms of the sheer number of human traffic, but I'm not sure how many of those people even notice him, given that their minds are probably cluttered with other life-threatening dilemmas (e.g. HTC Hero vs. iPhone?? Nike vs. Adidas?? Straight or wavy perm??)... :P

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One death rope please...

I know, I look Chinese. And to the average HKer, I look just like one of them. That is...until I open my mouth.

The thing is, I'm not really that bad at Cantonese. I can get by for a few minutes before they either hear my accent and/or realize that my vocabulary is limited to that of an 5th grader, and sometimes when I talk too fast, I tend to mix words up... for example:

Me: Yea, I really enjoy going to the gym!
HKer: Oh ya? How often do you go?
Me: I 'animal' quite often!
HKer: (awkward silence)

Seconds pass before I realize I said 'animal (dong-mut)' instead of 'exercise (wun-dong)', but... it's all good right...Same diff...I'm suure they understood me...yeaaaaa...*awkward!*

It happened again the other day when I was shopping for a camera neck strap:

Me: Excuse me, do you have any 吊頸帶 (lit. hang-neck-strap)?
Man: WHAT!?
Me: Y'know, for my camera.
Man: Ohh, you mean 掛頸帶 (lit. hang-neck-strap)!
*erupts in mocking laughter*
Me: -__-

Turns out there's more than one way to say 'hang' in Cantonese, and the way I said it meant I wanted a camera strap to hang myself from my apartment ceiling. Riiight...lesson learnt.

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Mooncake Madness

Yes, it's true. I just ate a whole mooncake ON MY OWN. Go ahead, drop your jaw and call me whatever gluttonous animal you want. I deserve it!! :p

I didn't mean to, really. For some strange reason, I had a sudden craving for something sweet. And since my chocolate drawer was empty, all I really had to satisfy my craving were two double-yolked mooncakes given to me by my company (I blame them!!).

Suddenly, I was shoveling triangular-cut pieces of lotus paste chunks into my face (while working I might add), enjoying the sticky sweetness and slight chewiness of it all, and within a few minutes, the mooncake was no more.

The effects were immediate: Heartbeat - slowing. Eyelids - drooping. Mood - Worsening. I mean, I can actually feel my blood turning into lotus paste! I better get out of here before I devour the other one...

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