Hong Kong pt IV

It's been about a week and I had been without an internet connection so you all were left without an update. So, after some razzing from a certain WSM I am putting up a few things.

Just FYI, I'm back in India. Just got in this afternoon. I really wish I could have stayed in Hong Kong longer; there's still so much that I didn't get to see/do. There are a few things I really miss about it:

1) The people. I met a lot of really cool people while I was there and really learned so much. Granted, Woodstock IS an international school and I have learned a lot from the people here but I think I learned different things in Hong Kong. I'm not sure how to explain it.

2) Traffic laws. In Hong Kong people wait until the sign says to cross the street even if there is no traffic coming. They also drive inside the lines. Take a cab ride through Delhi and you'll understand.

3) Cleanliness. In Hong Kong it's illegal to spit; even in the rubbish bins; even in the toilet. In India, I step off the train and almost immediately immerse my left foot up to my ankle in a puddle of human excrement. Nothing says 'Welcome Home' quite like that.

I really shouldn't dwell on it like this. I'll just make myself depressed. And it's not that I don't like India, it's just that after an action packed month of doing and seeing I'm going back to the hills to the drudgery of work. Ho hum...

Ah well, such is life, no?

Here's some pics:

Aren't you jealous? Jackie Chan's star on the Hong Kong Harbour. Not quite Hollywood, but it IS where he's made a lot of movies.

And a statue paying tribute to Hong Kong's golden boy of cinema, Bruce Lee.

Romain(right) in Lan Kwai Fang after sword fighting the other dude. We went to the area to get a drink after dinner and ran into some of Camber's friends from juggling club who just happened to be making balloon things. In total we got a hat, dong, sword, mouse, and flower. At the end of the night, in an especially precious moment, Camber gave the flower to a little girl on the MTR (subway). Smiling ecstatically, the girl promptly shoved it in her daddy's face and hit her sister with it. A few day's later we ran into the sword wielding fellow again and lots of people wanted our pictures with him.

We attended a night market in celebration of the new year (year of the ox by the way). A better way to describe it would be a fully clothed orgy. You're literally packed in with absolutely no room to maneuver. What made things worse was all the guys with their arms around their girlfriends. In effect, they encapsulated them and really just made a giant, slow-moving mass that really got on my nerves.

We had to opportunity to see all sorts of weird people. This guy had an orange on his head.

This person (not sure if it was a guy or girl, Camber swears it was a guy) was in a mountain of giant, plush croissants. I didn't get it.

These kids were running a stall and started cheering. Therefore, I started cheering. They cheered more and so did I. A little kid cried. Seriously.

Mike, I thought of you. Not sure why though.

Lots of people tried to sell us stuff. This guy tried selling us empty milk cartons. I decided to have some fun and employed a little trick T taught me in Delhi. You see, you're supposed to haggle the prices. Well, whenever someone would give me a price I'd raise them. Most just laughed but a few gave me really dumbfounded looks.

This woman tried selling socks. Compared to the rest of the things there, this was entirely out of place and uncalled for.

Things like blow up eggballs (a waffle-like street treat) that even come in their own over sized brown paper sack.

And now for something completely different.

I've been slaving over a few Christmas presents and (as is always the case) I'm late getting them off. But I think the end result justifies the wait.

In true Indian fabrics we have an elephant for young Alice Ruth and a tiger for ms Kaylee Marie. For some reason, Kaylee's always end up being larger than I expect and increasingly frustrating. I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep this up next year with Baby Butt Bathje (or whatever its name is going to be) coming along too. Maybe I'll start earlier or go smaller. I'll figure something out

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies	5
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?	10
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp	15
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?	20
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake