A Look Back: What Have I Become?

This is probably going to be my final post on this blog. I may do one more post next Wednesday or Thursday before we leave, but that's highly unlikely as I'll probably be too busy doing last-minute cleaning and packing. I'd make a joke about how our mere presence in this flat makes it cleaner, but I'm too depressed about the state of affairs here to do that at the moment.

Mind you, I'm not full on depressed. In fact, I'm actually in quite a good mood. We have a lot going on for us right now. Carina has fairly stable employment for the next year and is getting along well with her coursework, a  major improvement over last semester. I've made almost all of the arrangements to have my thesis binding and submission taken care of, and this afternoon we're heading out to an end-of-semester barbecue with our friends/colleagues from the department; we're even going out again tomorrow night. The best news, of course, is that we'll be hopping on an airplane come Thursday and heading back to the good old US of A! Now that's worth getting excited over.

Still, I can't ignore the less-than-joyful feelings I have as well. Since being in Hong Kong, I've posted a number of rants about all the problems here and how much I hate it. For two years I've hoped my feelings toward this city would change, that I would find something worthwhile about it that reduced my mountain of loathing. I am sad to say that I have not. My opinion of Hong Kong continues to be that it is an irreparable dump. "Asia's World City" my ass! Go to Seoul; go to Tokyo; go to Bangkok! Just stay out of this wretched hive of scum and villainy!

I look inward and I find myself in conflict: I hate Hong Kong, really hate it, and the part of me that tries to be tolerant and accepting is extremely troubled by this. Yet the trouble stems not from my hatred of Hong Kong alone, but from the fact that I find myself largely complacent with hating it! I grew up being taught not to hate, to respect the differences between people, and to simply be the "bigger man" and walk away from petty squabbles. At home and among cultures relevant to my own I find I am capable of doing this. Despite my lack of sophistication and impoverished-to-non-existent French and Dutch, I was able to get along during my time in Europe, even among the Parisians. Although I sometimes found myself vexed, there was always a way of turning a situation around and walking away feeling none the worse for wear.

It's different here.

In Hong Kong the only overlap in culture is consumerism, and here consumerism is prevalent in peoples' lifestyles to an unprecedented degree. I believe that even Paris Hilton would be hard-pressed to match the superficiality and spoiled-brattery that you encounter among many of Hong Kong's youth. You cannot go two steps without being assaulted by large, gaudy ads for whatever someone is trying to sell, and you could be deaf and still hear that hawkers on the streets trying to sell you their knock-offs. Hong Kong is bilingual all right. The two languages they speak are Cantonese and money.

On top of that, I find that the people here are generally lacking in any sense of empathy or compassion for others outside the circle of their immediate interests inclusive of family and friends. I see people fall to the ground, get bumped, pushed, gouged, kicked, insulted, assaulted, cheated, robbed, spat upon, snotted upon, and otherwise abused while no one so much as lifts a finger. The other day I was hit by a car again (the fifth time here in Hong Kong, more than twice the number of times I've been hit in my entire life in the US!), this time in broad daylight and still without so much as a "sorry" from the driver.

I will grant that I was crossing at an unlabeled and unprotected intersection, but the fact of the matter is that I was crossing behind an elderly man and, seeing cars slowing and stopping for him, I figured I could tuck in behind him. Well, of course that was wishful and foolish thinking on my part. I forgot the cardinal rule in Hong Kong: the only part of their tradition that they maintain is deference to the elderly and very young; the rest of us are human garbage, especially those of us "resembling the spirits of the unquiet dead" (aka foreigners). No sooner had the old man finished crossing than the spoiled, middle-aged piece of human refuse pulling around the corner decided to rev right into me as I was just about at the corner myself. I put my hands up to protect myself and the only real damage that was done was when my sunglasses fell apart after being knocked off my face in the impact.

At first I was calm. I collected myself, found all the pieces of my sunglasses, and reassembled them without moving away from the car. I looked up and saw that he was rolling his window down. Hot-blooded American that I am, I snapped. I couldn't pass up this opportunity to confront my would-be assassin for a change. I marched over to the window and addressed him:

"What?" I demanded.

He refused to look at me, despite having rolled his window down.

"You want to say something to me?" I asked.

He shook his head and started rolling his window up.

"Do you want to say something to me!?" I demanded, clearly articulating each word despite my anger.

He simply sat in his car, ear-buds in (yes, driving with ear-buds in!) and said nothing.

I'm fairly certain I uttered some curse at him after that, but I let him go. I really wanted to tear into his car, but it wasn't worth it. Leaving in a week? Yeah, not jeopardizing that. All of the little HK folk standing on the corner behind me were whispering (or what they call "whispering" around here as you can hear it two blocks away) and pointing behind me. I rolled my eyes. Yes, I'm a "mad gwailo". Yes, I'm a big, scary, clumsy, boisterous beast compared to you folk who are so refined. Yes, I'm the problem with Hong Kong, not you folk who think it's okay to run into someone with your BMW and not even apologize for it.

Events like this, coupled with the gross inefficiency of Hong Kong's bureaucracy (apparently the only form of government this city can handle), have led to me just giving up on the place. Not all of the people are terrible, but most of the ones who aren't are either foreigners (and, yes, I do now count mainland Chinese as foreigners given their extreme difference from their HK counterparts on average) or highly educated and spend most of their time at one of the universities. These subsets, however, are only a small percentage of the population. The rest of the people, and the unearthly degree of pollution that they create, make me utterly sick to my stomach.

Yet as I hear myself think these thoughts over and over again, I have to ask: What have I become? Have I simply become another cog in the massive engine of hate that has driven large-scale human conflict since the dawn of our species? Have I become a bigot, a racist, the very scum that I decry?

I worry about this sometimes, yet it is because I worry that I know I am not completely lost. I never give myself completely over to hate; when I come close I take a step back and repair my ways. Yet I also know now that it is not wrong for me to detest things. To love something is not to hate everything else, yet sometimes one must be averse to that which conflicts with what one loves in order to preserve it. Many are averse to war, to violence, and to the great harms that may be inflicted upon humans; we do our best to stop or minimize these things, and that often means we must confront those who would perpetuate these acts. Does that make us monsters? Perhaps, but I like to think it is not the case. The "crime" committed by one who slays another in self-defense is mitigated because the act was performed to preserve life. We treat this as a kind of balance and, artificial as that balance is, we are the artificers; it is part of our natural world. Mind you, I am not justifying hate or hateful speech here, and I realize that all too often I fly off the handle in my attacks on Hong Kong and many of its people, but I also realize that I am not shedding the part of myself that I strive to preserve and cultivate when I judge some things to be "good" or "bad" and have according feelings of approbation and aversion. This is part of being human, and it is simply another part of being human to be wary of how these judgments and feelings affect us and others.

This having been said, I am averse to Hong Kong. It is polluted, crude, rude, and utterly inhumane here. Perhaps I am misjudging it, but I can only judge based upon what experiences I have had. I would be happy to never set foot here again once I leave on Thursday, and I would even encourage others to either leave Hong Kong or never visit it as well. Until this city starts functioning with respect and compassion, I feel it will always be a dump. I do not like spending time in dumps; they smell and are unhygienic.

This is Colin Lewis wishing you a good night, and good luck.

I'm Bored

I'm bored.

I know, no one wants to come to this blog and hear me whine, especially not after I shirked my duties last week and posted a cute kitty video in place of a regular entry, but I am bored.

I have been bored since Day One, of course, so this is nothing new. The thing is, before now I had something to occupy my time with. I had a thesis to work on, research to do, places to see, people to meet, et cetera, et cetera. If nothing else, I could at least assist someone else with one of their projects. Now, however, it's all just...blah.

The things around here that do require doing are, unfortunately, incredibly dull and tedious. We need to pack. I mean, we really need to pack. When I say "we" I of course mostly mean Carina, but we need to pack. That's simple, doable, and can only be done on a particular timetable. We can't just pack all of our toiletries away now, unfortunately, so we have to wait on those a bit. Also, we still have so much junk lying around the department that needs to be distributed elsewhere that it's not even funny. It's also not particularly interesting, though. I'd have it all taken care of in the space of  a single day if Carina would just let me do it. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening just yet.

We've also been dealing with our bank here, HSBC. I hate banks. You can talk up their virtues all you want, but I still hate them. I don't hate the concept of banks, mind you. I just hate the way in which they tend to be operated (re: inefficiently). After marching all around Central District, we finally managed to take care of most of our e-banking woes (aside from having the ability to transfer funds online, or at least so Carina tells me). It has been extremely frustrating, but it's almost all taken care of now and I'm quite proud of myself for not punching anyone in the face or, for that matter, anywhere else.

I'm also nursing an extremely sore foot, after an obese and completely oblivious old man decided to stomp and then fall on top of it this morning. I cannot wait to be rid of this place and the rabble that populate it. I'll take the crime and violence of my home country. At least we have trees and hospitality.

I guess I also have the story I've been writing for a while now. I feel like it's really going somewhere, but I'm not always motivated to write, just like with this blog post. Yep, motivation is totally gone now. Maybe I'll feel better next week when I'm seven days closer to getting out of this dump.

~Colin

In Place of Usual Post

Due to my time being consumed by some bettas that were sent to us by a marine management organization, we will be unable to provide a full post this weekend. To summarize the most important point of the past week: I passed my master's defense.

Now, so you don't go away empty-handed, here's an adorable cat video:

Fare thee well,

Colin

Brace Yourselves...

My thesis defense date has been set for the 26th of April, and I couldn't be happier to finally be at the endgame. Well, I suppose I could be happier, but I'm happy enough. Extreme emotions can only be sustained for short periods of time, else one develops an electro-chemical imbalance that can lead to severe complications. So, yeah, I'm content.

I don't really have much to add right now, mostly because I just don't feel like writing about anything else. We've been here for so long and we've missed out on so much at home, but it's finally about to pay off big time. Once I have my master's degree and my thesis finalized, I can finally stake some more permanent claim in my field; I'll have an artifact. That artifact tells a story, an important story for me now and, just maybe, an important story for others some day in the future. It also gives me a resource from which to pull when I do further work, possibly even article and book publications, but most importantly it's a token, a trinket I leave behind.

Now, I don't know what story is going to be told, or if anyone is even going to pick it up. Truth be told, if my work is remembered at all, I'll probably be written-off as a mere dissenter who contributed little of substance to his area, let alone the field or world at large. That's okay. What's important is that I know it's out there and that it's out there at all. As much as I seek an audience with other minds for the sake of debate and collaboration, at the end of the day I really have to fall back on my own sense of judgement and self-satisfaction. I have to examine whether I lived up to my own standards and, if I did, then I need to be content with that. After all, you can't please everybody, and you'll likely never please those with whom you disagree.

That all being said, I'm going to wrap this up now. I was up late last night helping a friend with an important project. Yeah, being close to completion means I have time to do that now, and I like to help people. That's why I got into this lifestyle to begin with, and it's important to think about that every so often. That's my challenge for all of my readers today: Think about why you do what you do, what your reasons for going into your profession were and what they are now. Just have a nice long think and see where it takes you.

Me? I'm gonna' catch some elusive Z's.

Passing out now,

Colin

Winding Down

We have thirty-three days left before we leave. Thirty. Three. Days.  That still feels like a lot but, heck, it's a lot less than what we were looking at when we left back in January. I have to say I'm really happy to see that number and to think that we're only about a month away from coming home. Although not everything about Hong Kong is horrible, the homeland is infinitely preferable, and I can't wait to be back at the table and drinking wine and eating food with our friends and family.

Of course, that'll only last about three months, after which time we'll be packing up and leaving again, this time for Utah. For those of you living in a cave or who just have no other way of following us, I accepted Utah's offer the other day and I'll start working toward my PhD there Fall 2012 (that means the first of September which, frankly, isn't really in the fall but, hey, that's what they call it). I'm looking forward to being back in a US program, although I can only hope that the level of rigor and depth of discussion is what I remember it to be. So far I've only done work at Duke and UNC prior to my stint in Hong Kong and, let's be honest, those are two of the best universities in the nation for the work I do. That sets the bar pretty high, but I'll remain hopeful.

I'm also hopeful that we can figure out something for Carina to do.Utah's department of education looks, to be honest, kinda' like crap on a cracker. I'm tempted to beg her to stay in Durham and finish her MAT, but I know she won't have any of that. I also know that she'll probably end up working remotely for her boss here in Hong  Kong, but that shouldn't stop her from finishing that degree. I really think she could fulfill her dream of opening that school and revamping our crap education system if she'd just let herself. I'll keep encouraging her.

What else is there to talk about? Well, apparently HKU is finally starting to move on my thesis defense, having dragged their feet through the mud for as long as possible. Chris was nice enough to light a fire under someone's ass and explain that the candidate will be leaving mid-May! Apparently they had the examiners' reports when he asked (heaven knows for how long they'd had them), and the committee is going to try to squeeze in my defense ASAP. I'm not sure what that's going to entail in my case. Most students are done in around forty-five minutes tops, but I get the feeling it's not going to be so brief for me, not if some of the powers that be have anything to say about it. Then again, maybe it will go perfectly smoothly and quickly, in which case that would be awesome. I just want to finish my work here and then move on to my next projects which, frankly, are a lot cooler.

Other than that, I can't think of much else to say. Good on Florida for finally charging Zimmerman? I figured I should follow up my last post, at least.

Night-y night,

Colin

Felices Pascuas

Yeah, happy Easter. Go eat a chocolate rabbit, I hear the ears and tails are the best parts.

There's been a lot of big stuff in the news recently: North Korea is about to launch a rocket, the Syrian peace deal is falling apart, utter madness in the Philippines as a girl tried to surf on a whale shark. Yeah, this is weird, wild stuff.

If you're in the US, as most of our readers are, then the story you've probably heard the most about is the tragic tale of Trayvon Martin. Why is it a tragedy? Well, first of all, the kid's dead, that's pretty tragic. What's really upsetting for most people, though, is the fact that the justice system seems to be dragging its feet on bringing the case to any real conclusion.

As it currently stands, George Zimmerman of Sanford, Florida , the man who has admitted to shooting and killing Trayvon Martin (17; also of Sanford, Florida), has yet to be charged for his actions. The public outcry is palpable and Zimmerman is already building a defense, claiming that he discharged his concealed firearm in a residential area in self-defense, a claim that homicide investigators on the scene were "unconvinced" about. Nevertheless, the State Attorney almost immediately claimed that there was insufficient evidence to formally arrest and charge Zimmerman. It has been pandemonium ever since.

Now, here's the real tragedy over this event: there are a lot, a lot of people out there who want to talk about the possibility that the shooting was motivated by racial profiling, that the killing occurred as a product of inherent prejudice. It gets better: the majority of the people who seem to be bringing up race are the ones who are telling everyone else to shut up about it, and it's distracting from the fact that a young man was shot to death by a man acting as a vigilante who was also potentially endangering others.

What's that? You mean the "Got durn pot-bangin' m'norities" aren't the ones hogging the bullhorn on this one? Sorry, Boss Hogg, but if you'll take a look at your hand, yeah, right there, you'll see that the megaphone is firmly in your grasp this time. Please hush for a second so I can point out a few things.

The big issue here isn't whether Zimmerman shot Martin because he was black. The big issue is that the state of Florida is dragging its knuckles on bringing closure to this horrible event that occurred two months ago. Seriously, two months and you can't even bring the charge? Of course, that comes as no surprise to those who remember the presidential election of 2000 (really, you can't count?), but we should be serious here, because this is a grave issue. We need to ask: Florida, what the Hell? The fact of the matter is that regardless of whether Zimmerman's self-defense claim is true, a claim that should be decided in a court of law after critical consideration of the evidence and the principle of excessive force, he shot and killed someone. You don't just get away with that!

Could there be undertones of racism involved? Sure, along with class-ism for that matter. I believe Zimmerman has gone on record to state that he was following Martin because he "looked suspicious", and according to statements from witnesses Zimmerman accosted Martin and demanded to know what he was doing in that neighborhood (apparently visiting the home of his father's fiancee, not that Zimmerman bought that story). Looking suspicious doesn't necessarily entail racism, but it does entail a prejudical assumption that one of these things is not like the other. Trayvon Martin was an unfamiliar entity to George Zimmerman, and one that did not fit with his expectations of who was (or perhaps should be) in that neighborhood. So, yeah, there's obviously a bit of xenophobic paranoia going on here, but it's not necessarily racially motivated.

The problem is that we are dealing with a locale that does have a history of racist tensions. Even if Zimmerman didn't personally inherit those tensions, other people that make up the community have; the historicity cannot be ignored. A little suspicion is warranted, but we should always be cautious before we fly off the handle and start making wild accusations. It goes both ways, though: people who are jumping to Zimmerman's defense have tried to build him up as an upright citizen and immediately taken pot-shots at Trayvon Martin, noting some of his past misdemeanors and current affairs. They try to vilify him, dehumanize him, rather than acknowledge that he was a human being who has died by violence against his person. Not his race. Not his class. His person. Trayvon Martin is (or was, depending on your point of view) a person, and he deserves to be remembered for who rather than what he was.

It's easy for us to forget in the bustle of our daily lives that every jerk, moron, dimwit, and rube that we bump into is still human and not an inanimate, non-sentient piece of sidewalk decor. Sure, we can't think about everyone in the world all the time, but every so often something happens and we get a chance to remember how many of us there are, and what it means to be human and be someone. What transpired that night that led to Martin's being shot is immaterial to the fact that his unfortunate demise can serve as that kind of reminder. I, for one, think we should at least give this case that level of respect.

Sorry, I know it was just Easter and everyone is feeling festive, but this has weighed heavily on my mind as of late. I'm sure I'm just young and naive, and I'm probably missing out on some serious legal facts that would explain to any idiot what's going on here, but I find this upsetting. Blame Facebook and the media. I really do hope you all have a good holiday and a wonderful week, though.

Happy Easter,

Colin

Nothing to Report

Seriously, there's nothing to report. We really have no updates for this week. Were you expecting something more? Do you get your kicks from our blog? Can you just not start your week without reading one of my caustic rants? Is your life just falling apart without news from Hong Kong?

Well, tough.

Love,

Colin

Who bows deeper?

Hello all! I know Colin usually writes, but I wanted to share this clip.

Meryl Streep and Yo-yo Ma recently performed together in a live performance poetry reading accompanied by the cello. In an article written about relations between China and the West, the question was posed, "who bows deeper?" 

A wonderful performance with a humorous ending.

On Mountains

Sorry for the posting delay, but the other day I fell off of a mountain. I fell off of a mountain three times.

*cue Cell Block Tango, He had it comin'! He had it comin'!*

Okay, cut the song and dance number. I guess I should give an explanation.

So a bunch of outdoorsy types on Lantau Island got together a while back and decided to create an adventure race called the Lantau 50 or, more accurately, the Lantau 51 (since, ya' know, it's technically 51km). This is the first year it was run and, I have to say, it was pretty brutal. The race goes pretty much all the way around Lantau Island...the hard way. That means it goes over several mountains, one of which is called Sunset Peak, a mountain that stands almost one kilometer above sea level. That's the worst one, but there are several others that are quite massive as well.

Now, I don't mind going up mountains. In fact, I did really well on the flat and on the incline (I was even with the race leaders for a while). It's going down that gets me, especially when I'm running an unfamiliar course for the first time in Vibram Fivefingers that are definitely not meant for those rocky trails, trails so rocky that they literally tore a coin-sized hole in my shoes. Good thing I have a back-up pair. I was lucky that this was the worst gash I (think I) suffered, too, as there were jagged rocks surrounding those narrow downhill passes all over the place. It was in trying to dodge around these that I frequently ended up sliding over the edge and grabbing onto whatever brush I could to hang in there. Personal opinion? Not a safe trail, at least not in my shoes.

I ended up bowing out after Sunset Peak. I hadn't trained for this race, it wasn't my kind of race, and I definitely didn't have the right footwear for it. On top of that, going downhill really took a toll on my knees and ankles. If it weren't for the fact that barefoot running is good for strengthening those joints, I probably would have torn or twisted something. Ironically, the same pair of shoes that screwed me also saved me. I think I'll stick to road races from now on and use caution on mountain paths.

I don't regret the event, though. It was really exciting and the views from where I ended up were absolutely gorgeous. I was telling Carina that if anyone had a reason to come to Hong Kong, those mountains and the view they afforded should have been that reason. Of course, that same view also gave me vertigo (or maybe that was a combination of hunger, dehydration, and oxygen deprivation), but it was all beautiful...and fun...except for the falling downhill part.

Here's another mountain story to go out on, though: As a lot of you know, I have an anger problem that I've been trying to manage for a number of years. I've been getting better, but every day is still a struggle for me, especially when I'm surrounded by agents of frustration (re: almost all of Hong Kong). One of the greatest sources of my vexation is our flatmate, Beanpole, the bane of my existence.

Today I almost lost it and had at him. He makes a mess of things and acts like he doesn't share this flat with anyone and it makes me incredibly angry. I wanted to punch through his door and rip his head off after he commandeered the shower this morning and wasted all of the hot water...to shave (What the #@$% does he have to shave!?). I was really about to go at him, but then I checked myself. I thought, "This is someone's son, maybe even someone's friend. Now, I really hate this guy, but I have no personal quarrel with his relations. If I were to hurt him, how would his friends and family feel?"

I stepped away from the door and went back to my work. Just because you hate someone doesn't mean you have to destroy them, and just because you don't destroy someone doesn't mean you don't hate them. I hate him passionately, but I will continue to afford him what human dignity I can because, as disgusting as I find him, he is human. I am a mountain, I am solid, I will not shift from my composure. Let the anger boil beneath, but may it never overflow, for I have seen the destruction that can follow from such forces being left unchecked, and I know it to be terrible.

...The mountain is a metaphor.

Approximately yours,

Colin

Two Months is Too Much

You've heard it all before. You've heard me rant about how horrid I find Hong Kong and how I can't wait to come home. You've heard about how much I feel this place is killing me.

You haven't heard some of these anecdotes, though.

For your reading pleasure, I've compiled a list of three stories that sum up some of our recent experiences in Hong Kong. I think you'll find them to be sufficiently stomach-churning to the point that you won't want to come here...ever. That's probably for the best, since the only language Hong Kong seems to understand is the all mighty dollar and, if we ever want them to change, we'll have to get them to acknowledge how disgusting they are (kinda' like rubbing a dog's nose in it's own $#!*). So, without further ado, let's begin...

1) What a Pisser!

It had been a surprisingly enjoyable (re: expensive) evening, as Carina and I were on our way home from a great dinner at Habibi, an Egyptian restaurant specializing in Middle-Eastern fare and some of the best cocktails I've had since arriving in Hong Kong (probably because it was not prepared by native Hong Kongers). Good food, good company, good conversation, and a good walk back were making the evening unusually delightful.

This is Hong Kong, though, so no story is complete without some disgusting event involving poor hygiene and mass apathy.

As Carina and I were passing a set of stairs, we noticed a token drunk attempting the ascent and getting nowhere fast. He stumbled, righted himself, and then, as if the most natural thing in the world, undid his fly and let loose a...well, maybe not "let loose" as it was a very weak stream (more of a trickle, really), but he began to empty his bladder nonetheless.

Now, neither of us is exactly unaccustomed to such displays of public intoxication; we went to college. It was still disgusting, of course, and it irked me that someone would have so little regard for the public welfare. That wasn't what really put me over the top, though. What really put me over the top was the fact that two cops on the other side of the street actually watched this guy urinate in public and did nothing! Not a damn thing! Yeah, Hong Kong's finest hard at work, right?

You know why the crime rate in this city is so low? It's because the cops do the best they can to keep infractions like that off the record. They'd rather just ignore this crap than do their damn jobs or, when pressed to act, put the fear of...well, not God since this place is godless...but the next closest thing (money?) into people instead of actually doing up a report! That and the fact that all the real crime is at the white collar level and no one seems to understand the concept of charging people for crimes against humanity and the environment. Okay, yeah, I'm on my moral high horse here, but if you lived where I've been living for two years you'd feel the same way. I challenge any libertarian to come to Hong Kong and live on the same means I've been living on for six months. I guarantee you'll come back with a more socially-oriented political philosophy...

2) The Creeping Death

We've discussed our flat's mold problem before: it grows on the wall, we clean it, it grows back, we clean it again. What we haven't discussed is that Hong Kong seems to breed some kind of super mold that is totally resistant to any kind of anti-microbial solution.

So far we've attempted the following: diluted bleach, straight bleach (ouch), borax (cough), vinegar (mmm, vinegar), dish soap.

I wanted to use hydrochloric acid, but Carina rejected this idea after the near fiasco with the bleach. I told her I was willing to suffer the burns but she remained unconvinced. I think it also had something to do with "not destroying the landlord's property," but I stop listening whenever someone mentions that kind of thing. This entire flat could use an overhaul and it's been a while since I've been allowed to use a sledgehammer. That and I could really use the cathartic experience.

Anyway, yeah, we've been dealing with this bizarre and unearthly mold for weeks now and we can't seem to kill it (I mean, it doesn't bleed. Can we kill it if it doesn't bleed?). In all honesty, the mold has probably embedded itself so deeply in the wall that we'd need to tear a lot of it out to ensure that it stops growing back so rapidly. Personally, I wouldn't mind chiseling it away or taking a flamethrower to it, but I've been told that kind of "do-it-yourself" behavior isn't well tolerated in the homes of others. Bummer, because I'm really good with a chisel.

One option we did briefly consider was a kind of "anti-fungal paint" that some places in Hong Kong allegedly sell. As with all such miracle cures, though, we're skeptical. In fact, you should be skeptical of anything you buy in Hong Kong. That watch? Fake. Those shoes? Knock-offs that'll fall apart in two weeks. That broom? Yeah, it's flammable, so flammable it'll burst into flames when submerged underwater. That's just the way this place is, though, it's fake.

Except for the mold. The mold is very real, much like the health problems it causes. If in any of my photos I look like I have some kind of rash around my eyes, you'll know why.

3) In Cantonese, "Pesto" means "Mayo"

Now, after all of these other stories this one is probably the tamest, but it's also the one that pisses me off the most. Maybe that's because I'd been suffering through everything prior to this for so long that this was just the straw that broke the camel's back, but here it goes.

Last evening Carina and I were coming back from a spur of the moment trip to one of Hong Kong's many tourist traps, The Peak. In all honesty it probably would have been better if we'd gone earlier and completed one of the alleged scenic hiking trails but, as it was, we didn't get up there until around 3:30 PM and only stayed for an hour. Oh well, no big deal.

On our way home we passed through the infamous Shun Tak Centre, a building that is the bane of my existence and beloved by many Hong Kongers. We were hungry, so we stopped at an Oliver's Super Sandwiches for a bite to eat. Not unsurprisingly, their menu was rubbish. I ordered what I hoped would be an at least acceptable panini: grilled chicken, "mixed" mushrooms (whatever that means), and pesto. That actually sounds pretty good. Of course, anything that sounds good is likely to be screwed up by Hong Kong people, who don't seem to know or care about how to prepare food.

During my tedious wait for food I was treated to the lovely Hong Kong chorus of disgusting belching and the cacophonous slurping of soup. I had heard much about such gross behaviors but, until then, I had never experienced them personally. I thought it would be tolerable. I was wrong.

These burps are not like normal burps. These burps put the most inebriated and classless frat boy to shame. These are burps that sound inhuman. A frog could burp and sound (and smell) better than that to which I was sitting next. The slurping? The slurping wasn't even warranted! People slurp food supposedly because it is hot and it's a way of cooling it. First of all, blowing on your bloody spoon is a far more efficient and less obnoxious way of doing that. Second, most of the garbage Oliver's sells and claims to be "food" is served lukewarm at best; you don't need to freaking blow on it!

It's a good thing I was so hungry from all of the walking I'd been doing, otherwise I would have lost my appetite. On second thought, I rather wish I had.

When my sandwich finally arrived it was nothing like what I'd ordered: it was bacon with two shriveled up pieces of chicken and, to top it all off, no pesto. Instead, they'd slathered mayonnaise on the sandwich. <sarcasm> Great, I just love mayonnaise </sarcasm>. I wiped as much of the gunk off of the "sandwich" as I could and then ate swiftly so I could get the Hell out of there. I wanted to wash it down with my "lemon tea" but, of course, they'd served "tea" without lemon, tea that tasted more or less like burnt water. How do you burn water!? It took all of my self-restraint not to go postal on that kitchen. I didn't dare complain about the food because I knew I'd just lose it with them.

The recurring theme in all of these stories is apathy. The grand majority of Hong Kong people have absolutely no sense of pride, passion, or pathos. It is little more than a garbage heap, a zit upon a blue world, but a zit that threatens to pop and spill over, leaking its disgusting pus all over our planet's face. I refer both to the level of pollution and the way people tend to live here. Let Hong Kong be a wake-up call to the world:

START CARING!

This PSA brought to you by Colin

Two Utes

If you don't understand this entry's title, go watch My Cousin Vinny. Do it. Yes, it's a B-movie but...just...just do it. You'll laugh, I promise.

I've been keeping this on the down-low because I have no idea what is considered culturally or professionally appropriate with regard to this kind of matter, but I'm going to put the big news out there for any and all interested: I received an offer of admission at Utah.

Okay, most of our readers probably are already aware of that. I may have either told you directly or insinuated it elsewhere. Still, I just wanted to go ahead and put the information up in case anyone didn't know and was wondering what a lot of my weird Facebook statuses as of late have been about.

This actually semi-completes my hearing back from PhD programs and it's a huge weight off of my back. A definitive "Yes" is a great thing to hear (and the funding isn't bad, either), especially after first receiving a definite "No" and an unclear "Maybe". I can finally rest a little easier at night knowing I have at least one option for my future work and study.

For those of you wondering why I'm considering doing my work at Utah, here's the scoop: There are virtually no programs that provide an environment for students to pursue a project utilizing Chinese philosophy (in philosophy) along with other branches of philosophy and other disciplines. Almost none. The limit approaches zero. Most universities, if they do have a specialist in Chinese philosophy in philosophy, end up being very limited in other options; you're forced toward specialization. Utah is fortunate to have one of the top young minds in Chinese philosophy along with a rather eclectic faculty in philosophy. On top of that, several of their other departments that I may need to draw from, mainly anthropology, are well-respected. The icing on the cake is that UU is very close to some lovely national parks and is infinitely cleaner than Hong Kong Island. Okay, that last part is just a living preference, but you get the picture.

So is it all settled? Utah, ho? Well, no, at least not yet. As exciting and wonderful as all of this is, in fairness I'm still waiting to hear back from UCR about their offer (if they are going to make one), at which time I will compare potentials, consult my friends, family, advisors, and magic highball (no, not eight ball highball. I know what I said). I also want to make sure that, wherever I go, Carina will have opportunities. If there's anything we've learned from our time in Hong Kong, it's that neither of us is going to be the "stay-at-home" type...ever.

That's actually something very important to take into account and, frankly, it's kinda' bugging me that no university to which I have applied seems to be considerate of that factor. Don't get me wrong, I respect that admissions committees look first and foremost at the applicants themselves and their respective abilities. I also know, however, that they take things like educational pedigree, financial status, and certain elements of life history into consideration. I have not, however, encountered any rubric that takes marital status into serious consideration, and I find that troubling. The fact of the matter is that we all too often think of marriage as a "privilege" that should only be doled out under appropriate circumstances. I'm not just talking about homophobic reactions to gay marriage; even heterosexual couplings undergo scrutiny if they do not meet certain exacting standards. As with so many things, what was once a significant tribal custom has become a commodity in the minds of many, even if it's just subconscious.

I'm not saying that I deserve special treatment because I'm married, but I am saying that it would be nice for universities to at least provide support in the form of information and recommendations for espoused students. I'm not married because "I can afford it"; I'm married because I met someone I love and chose to spend the rest of my life with her. I don't think that makes me foolish, just human.

Let's not get too bogged down in this kind of ranting, though. As I said, Utah's offer is very generous and, with any luck, I'll also be hearing about California's opportunities in the next week or so. Regardless of where I end up, I'm sure that both Carina and I will be able to flourish. I wish it could have been closer to home but, then again, anything is closer than Hong Kong.

So, here's to Utah, to potential, to us!

Cheers,

Colin

Why I Write

For those of you who closely follow our lives, you know that we undertook another pilgrimage to the Tian Tan Buddha this weekend, that it was awesome, and that there are indeed pictures (lots more of Carina smiling this time...plus dogs). I'll try to get those photos up at some point, but I need to take this space today for the purpose of explaining a few things about why I do what I do (and, yeah, vent).

I have known for a while of quite a few accusations having been made against me and my "work ethic" (whatever that term really means). Some people say I work too hard, others say I'm lazy and carelessly rush projects. Some people say both and yet others say neither. While I'd like to believe that those people who say neither are probably the best to judge, I like to take the views of all into account. This is, of course, a potential flaw for me just as it is for direct democracy, but that's what I get for being brought up on such values. Nevertheless, the point stands that I face occasional, sometimes damning, criticism for the way I do things. Today I want to set the record straight about why I do what I do, and why I do it the way I do it.

I work hard and I work fast. I work hard in that I will put my nose to the grindstone and do all of the research, interpretation, and writing on a project virtually without halting from beginning to end. I work fast in that, because I am driven not to stop until a significant checkpoint has been reached, things get done quickly. I am not a workaholic: I do take occasional breaks and I work with an end in mind; I do seek to have non-work fun. I am not careless: I approach my work with great cautiousness and gravity. I find that the strategy that serves me best is to get the work done and complete drafts for editing as quickly as possible to ensure that the ultimate, refined product is of as high a quality as possible. I am not rushing, I do not lack commitment to projects, and I do thoroughly study the material. I just do it all really quickly and, although occasionally I overlook things, I am frequently accurate. That's just the way my brain works. That just works for me.

It is true that, as a result of this style, I occasionally get wrapped-up in constantly trying to make and move onto bigger and better things and, consequently, denigrate my own accomplishments. Understand, however, that when I do this I am often trying to uphold a standard of my craft, for while some are content to spend their lives re-reading and re-interpreting the same texts over and over again I desire something greater. Nietzsche was my age when he took on his first major position. What have I to show for my effort? True, Nietzsche was quite brilliant, but I refuse to accept that I (or, for that matter, many of my contemporaries) lack equivalent potential. If that is hubris, so be it. I simply believe that I can do great things with my work if people would just give me the stage for it. For that matter, I suspect many people could.

This leads me to another great thinker: Confucius spent most of his life wandering about, trying to find a suitable government in which to serve and enact his philosophy. Had he been able to plant himself in the proper soil, he may have been able to use his remaining years to truly spread and develop his philosophy to its conclusion. Who knows what could have happened? Alas, it was not to be. It took Confucius over seventy years to get as far as he could go with a philosophy that some continue to regard as "incomplete". I think this story serves to illustrate just how long such a process can take, and yet how brief a time we have. In the grand scheme of things, seventy years is not very long. Can it really be held against someone, then, if that that person is simply trying to make every moment count?

The point of this post is not to suggest that I think of myself as being as influential or significant as Nietzsche or Confucius. I am not, or at least am not yet, at such a state. What I do believe, however, is that my hard, good work is deserving of respect and a sufficient venue. I believe that should apply for almost anyone, such a belief is one of the foundations of an ideal meritocracy. I know that it is highly unlikely that everyone will get what he or she deserves, but that does not keep me from hoping. So it is that I keep on studying and writing, hoping that one day my work will be seen. I dare not say, "seen for what it is," because what it is will inevitably be judged by its beholders. I simply desire that I be allowed to undertake the position for which I have trained and for which I am qualified and then make my contributions as best as possible. That is all.

Cordially,

Colin

Sick Week

If you're having trouble comprehending this week's title, then you might have some problems yourself.

The long and the short of it is that Carina and I have spent almost the entirety of this past week self-quarantined due to illness. Although we're still not sure exactly what we were suffering from, I can tell you that it was not pleasant. My symptoms included congestion, sinus pain, and a fever so bad it made my muscles ache. Carina has been dealing with much the same thing, plus a sore throat (although I suspect I would have also had this problem had I not been sucking down lozenges the entire time). The good news is that we are on the up and up. The bad news is that our recovery phase has been marked by what seem like indestructible walls of mucus gumming up our chests. Well, I'll just keep exercising and making spicy food and hope that does the trick.

That really does make up the majority of the week. In fact, I think yesterday was actually the most eventful and productive day we've had. Sheesh, when Saturday is your most productive day of the week you know something's really off.

Anyway, as many of you (by which I mean "all of you") are aware, I've been sitting on a completed thesis for several months now, biding my time until given permission to submit. I finally received that permission last week and I've been scrambling to get everything put together ASAP so I can go ahead and submit the blasted thing. Yesterday I finally achieved a major milestone: temporary binding. I finally managed to get the entire thesis printed off and bound for examination purposes (and it only cost about USD 7 for four copies). All in all, not a bad haul. I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I feel better, happier, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound...okay, maybe not that last one, but you get the picture.

I imagine my feeling better is also partially attributable to two other events as well. First, I've finally changed my running route. I've decided that the automobiles of Hong Kong are just too much of a pain to deal with. Even when they aren't trying to kill me, they pollute the air with smells and sounds that just make me ache. I am averse to all of it, and so I have decided to distance myself as much as possible from them. How have I accomplished this? I finally got around to calculating distances over at the Sun Yat Sen Memorial Park, and I found a decent 2K loop. Awesome, so I just run that 2.5 times and I'm solid for my morning dose of speed (pun intended). It's really nice: the walkways are smoother but more porous, so not as slick; being near the harbor means a constant cool breeze; finally, and most importantly, no car can hit me. Ah, bliss.

The other event was our (much needed) quarterly room cleaning. Since Carina and I are both better, we figured it was time to purge the room of as many infection vectors as possible. I had already made a pass at this a few times previous (our walls were covered in mold and needed to be cleaned), and I think that may have been what got me sick to begin with, or at least contributed to it. Due to the room's small size and the fact that I needed to get my thesis bound, I asked Carina if she'd be willing to clean up. Wonderful being that she is, she consented and set to work bleaching the crap out of as much as she could. When I got back from the bindery the flat smelled like cleaning supplies. All I could think was, "Thank the stars, the nightmare's almost over." I have never been so happy to smell Febreeze in my life. Of course, it came as no surprise to learn that pretty much everything had been covered in mold and that an army of dehumidifiers probably wouldn't be enough to save us. Still, Carina really cleaned up as best she could and I'm glad she did. I think it will really help us keep alive and healthy (relatively speaking) over the next few months. I made sure to cook a really good lunch as a way of thanking her.

Other than that, not much has happened. I continue to remain vigilant for mold, but I'm aware that there's only so much we can do. Doubtless mold has crept into some places we just can't get to, but hopefully that's okay. Right now I'm just glad to be almost done with my MPhil. I'm ready to come home. WE are ready to come home.

Missing you all,

Colin

It's Loud

This past week has been relatively uneventful. Yes, I count being "potentially" involved in a book deal "uneventful". If I get the book deal I'll consider it an event. Until then, things are just dull. What does a dull week mean? A dull week means I have little motivation to post about anything in particular. Instead, I have decided to fixate on the most conspicuous thing around at the moment: the little old lady hawking her wares on the street corner adjacent to our flat.

What are her wares, you ask? Well, when I glanced yesterday they appeared to be knock-off designer handbags. Huh, and I was wondering why it sounded like she kept saying "Coco Chanel" over and over again. Of course, with older Cantonese speakers it sounds more like someone saying "Coco Shawna" after a few drinks, but I'll let that go. The fact that I really want to attend to, though, is not that she's selling counterfeit merchandise. The thing I want to point out is that she has been down there for the past few days and WON'T. SHUT. UP.

Now, you've all heard me complain about the noise levels of Hong Kong in the past. I'll complain about the loud traffic, earth-shaking construction, and drunken school kids I have to deal with early in the morning. This lady on the microphone, MC Hawker as I have come to think of her, is by far the most obnoxious cacophony I've had to deal with. Sure, the out-dated trucks and construction equipment tend to be louder and more consistent, but these are common, repetitive sounds that you can come to drown out after a while, especially with a good pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

MC Hawker is different.

MC Hawker wants you to buy her crap. She wants you to know that she's selling crap, she wants you to know that it's there, and she wants you to listen to her rather than actually look at the merchandise itself. MC Hawker thinks that the entire world needs to know that her little corner shop is open to sell cheap garbage and that, rather than use a sign or other means of advertisement, the best way to get attention is to be as loud as possible.

MC Hawker should have gone to business school.

Even in my own language I find people talking on loudspeakers, megaphones, or sound systems to be rather annoying. The only exception to this rule is when I'm at a concert for a band I particularly like or listening to a significant political speech (the latter of which, I suspect, has probably happened a grand total of at most five times in the history of the United States). Other than that, I find such noise utterly painful. In Hong Kong, this sort of noise is the norm. In Hong Kong, I am in agony. Why would I want to buy something from someone who perpetuates this?

Of course, as we know from our experiences with salespeople in Hong Kong, advertising and moving product are not their specialty (you start high and work your way down, geniuses...). Still, it's really no excuse for the nuisance that it causes. Unfortunately, most Hong Kongers seem to be half-deaf at birth. This means speaking volume is UP TO THE STRATOSPHERE no matter where you are. I often wonder how loudly Hong Kong aircraft technicians speak on the job. Can voices get any louder than the "screaming bloody murder" level?

I had to look up the possibility of getting anything done about the hawkers. Unfortunately, it seems that they're within their rights to do what they're doing. According to the government website on noise ordinances:

The nature of the noise sources covered by these provisions in sections 4 and 5 of the ordinance is such that it is not possible to specify fixed acceptable noise levels or noise measurement procedures to be used in assessing the acceptability of the noise. As is the case in other countries, noise from domestic premises and public places is to be dealt with by the police on a subjective nuisance basis.

Bummer that. The fact is that I can't do anything as an individual, especially not an individual non-citizen. What's hilarious though, in a very sad way, is the way Hong Kong approaches noise pollution more broadly...kinda' like how they approach air pollution: It's there...Okay, and...what? Way to go, guys, way to go. Here are some select quotes from the government page on noise pollution.

On construction noise: "Hong Kong is renowned for its city skyline, which is the result of a very active construction industry. "

What, really? No, no it's not. The beautiful sights of Hong Kong result from its natural geography. Nice try, though.

On traffic noise: " Vehicle noise is managed under the Noise Control (Motor Vehicles) Regulation, which stipulates that new vehicles for use in Hong Kong must meet European Union and Japanese noise control standards before registration."

Really? If that's the case then they sure haven't been good about enforcing the regulations. That or the EU and Japan have really lax standards...which I find hard to believe.

Also, apparently part of the plan to deal with traffic noise? More construction.

On "other" noise sources: "Neighbourhood noise from domestic premises and public places is restricted under the Noise Control Ordinance. As this type of noise is occasional and brief, it can be reported to the police for immediate assistance. But the important thing is to be considerate of others so that the noise you make won't be a bother."

Okay, first of all? No one in Hong Kong seems to read or care about these ordinances. They throw their garbage on the ground without a second thought and police do nothing to enforce the basic statutes. They jump in when they have to, but that's rare to never. Also, "occasional and brief"? This noise is constant and prolonged! That's the opposite of occasional and brief! Yet, somehow, it is permitted to continue. I know I'm not the only one who complains about it, but what does it matter what I say? I'm just a crazy gwailo, right?

Still, I have to say, it's funny despite how sad it all is. Anyway, that's it from me for now.

Adios, hasta luego,

Colin

Try the Tuna

Don't ask. It's an inside joke. You know what's not an inside joke, though? My thesis.

I finally received the final round of edit suggestions from my supervisor on Wednesday and I've been pedal to the metal, nose to the grindstone, cheese to the pizza about getting it done ever since. I actually finished my first round of edits on Thursday, after which I sent a copy to Carina for her thoughts on how well I've patched things up. So far she seems impressed. That's saying something, as she has probably been the harshest critic of my writing since, oh, day one. By the way, that's day one of knowing me, not day one of this thesis.

Seriously though, I love her and I really appreciate her helping me with this. If her boss doesn't acknowledge her for all the work she puts into her job as a research assistant, then she can at least count on getting a major mention in my acknowledgement section. Thanks, hon.

Other than that things haven't been too busy and, frankly, that's a good feeling. We went out Wednesday night with some friends to a nice Thai restaurant over in Wan Chai. The place is called Koh Thai and, although fairly expensive, it was definitely a fantastic meal. Decent drinks, excellent food, and some of the tastiest coconut sorbet I've ever had. If, for some bizarre reason, you ever end up over in Hong Kong and have some cash to blow (and you can tolerate some spice), give it a shot...just make sure you book your table in advance!

What else is new? Eh, not too much. I think Carina has been able to take it easy with regard to her work as of late. She hasn't even asked for me to help out with anything which is, frankly, something I enjoy doing. I like working with Carina. Even when I get frustrated, I still prefer working with her to pretty much anyone else. Although we may not always understand one another, there's a connection that we have developed over the past decade that lets us function really well as a team. I'm not sure she'd agree with me on that, but I really do feel that way. That's why I trust her with my work as much as my actual advisors...at least with regard to the quality of writing and argumentation.

I didn't mean for this to turn into a "Carina is Awesome" piece, but that is a fact.

I guess the only other news is (and I hope I'm not jinxing this) that I might have a book deal in the works. Mind you, it wouldn't be a book deal for me or any of the work I've currently completed, but it would be relevant to the kind of work I do. I won't go into too much detail, but I can say that if I am allowed to join this project I gain the ability to strike a serious blow for the kind of interdisciplinary work that I've been advocating for a long time now. Specifically, I'd get to carry over my work about the connection between language and ethics, possibly with further implications for moral psychology. I don't know how much free reign I would be given for my section, but I'm hopeful that it would be enough to bring in some good content.

Also, I'd be co-author on a book. How cool is that!?

All right, I think that about sums it up for now. We've been trying to watch Star Wars, Episode I for almost three hours now. Maybe it finally finished buffering. Ah, a nice and relaxing Saturday...

Ya'll come back now, hear?

Colin

Hong Kong Smog

I don't know if I've ever done an update specifically about the smog problem that Hong Kong has, but something I saw this morning inspired me to write one.

I haven't seen the moon in a month. That is to say, I haven't seen the moon since leaving the US for this last stint in Hong Kong. At first I assumed it was because the winter is typically Hong Kong's rainy season and, in true form, it has been overcast-to-drizzly about seventy-five percent of the time since our arrival (NOTE: I emphasize "drizzly" because, as I've said in the past, it seldom really rains in Hong Kong in any manner recognizable to the rest of the world). During my morning run, however, I looked up and, through an extremely thick veil of what looked like smoke, I saw a faint but familiar pale, illuminated disc in the sky. Oh, so Hong Kong does have an excuse for calling it "Lunar" New Year.

Now, you might ask: "Well, Colin, how do you know that the sky didn't just clear up for a change? Why assume what you were peering through was smog instead of cloud cover?"

Look, I'm not an expert nephologist (yes, there actually is a science that studies clouds), but I can tell the difference between artificial and non-artificial haze. If the facts that the air smells of diesel and that I feel like my lungs are on fire every morning aren't clues enough, the HK EP reports (no doubt biased but, even then, still dire) provide sufficient evidence of the problem. Hong Kong is blanketed in a smog composed of countless pollutants, many of which have significant deleterious effects on both organic and inorganic structures alike, including the human body. Frankly, you couldn't pay me enough to stay in Hong Kong. That's saying something, as I may or may not be about to face a serious financial dilemma upon completion of my master's degree here. I'm not about to cut my lifespan any shorter for the sake of money.

Naturally, this might beg the question of why anyone bothers to stay in Hong Kong, and I answer that their priorities clearly differ from mine. Consider this quote from HK CEO, Bowtie Tsang:

"The life expectancy in Hong Kong is among the highest in the world ... you can come to only one conclusion: we have the most environmentally friendly place for people, for executives, for Hong Kong people to live."

BEEPBEEPBEEP!

Oh, I'm sorry, that's the sound of my BS detector. It goes off all the time in Hong Kong, so it might be giving me a false reading but, wait, no, I'm pretty sure it's dead-on for this one. The fact is that some people really do just cling to lies like this. For what? For the sake of making money...but not just money, a $#!*-ton of money! Well, that's great, they can use that cash to buy up artificial body parts...just as soon as they approve human cloning.

I know it's nothing new to report on the atrocity that is Hong Kong air pollution, but it's just been so bad lately that I couldn't help but bring it up. Also, if you haven't figured it out, this is me responding personally, and after much consideration, to all the suggestions that I remain in Hong Kong if my PhD applications don't pan out: No, we're not staying. That's my decision and, frankly, it's non-negotiable. Everyday I can literally feel my body decaying at an accelerated rate. It's not a pleasant feeling. Even if you converted me into a cyborg I probably wouldn't stay, if for no other reason because the living conditions and social scene here are abysmal. I'm sorry, it's just not worth it; no amount of money is.

Anyway, that's the topical update for now. I'm meeting with Chris again today to hash out some paperwork for my thesis submission. It turns out you need to submit a submission to submit...to submit the thesis. We're going to try to get around that as much as possible, I think. More bureaucratic rubbish, a different kind of smokescreen.

Cheers,

Colin

On Readmitting Previous Students

I know that this is supposed to be a Chinese New Year update, but I thought we would take a bit of a serious detour instead today.

As some of you may know, I received my first rejection notice yesterday and, unfortunately, it was also from my first choice of school. At first I was absolutely inconsolable over the matter. How could my credentials not be sufficient to gain admission to this philosophy program? Certainly they have a large pool of talented applicants every year, but let us look at my qualifications and needs:

1) I have a 1400 GRE score which fits reasonably within the average.
2) I have already completed one thesis with a second one nearing completion.
3) I have presented a paper at a conference and given another presentation in-department in Hong Kong.
4) I have spent two years studying in Hong Kong at one of Asia's top universities (sure, that does not say much but they have accepted applicants from less-prestigious universities).
5) I have at least middling proficiency in three additional languages (Spanish, Latin, and both simplified and traditional Chinese).
6) I have actually held a job for more than two months (which counts for more than you might think).
7) I had two internal recommendations and two external recommendations, all from academics in the top of their specific areas.
8) I am married (not a qualification per se but I like to think it's a respectable trait).
9) I have actually done original research and designed a potential project for a doctoral dissertation.
10) My project uniquely fits a certain niche of interdisciplinary work that only a very limited number of schools can support with any real depth.

Now, with all of these things in mind, how could anyone think of me as a weak candidate? What did some other applicant do, save the rain forest with one arm tied behind his or her back?

Relax, man, and take a chill pill. A number of people have informed me that it is common practice for universities to reject re-entry attempts by applicants who were previous undergraduates...no matter what the situation of the applicant may be. Ah, okay, now we might be getting somewhere. It turns out that this may well have been (re: was) the case with my application. It never had a chance. The reason being? I already had a diploma from their institution.

I want to clarify that I do not feel discriminated against here, nor do I feel cheated or as if I was treated unfairly. I am very much aware that almost all colleges hold this policy and that almost any student would have been given the same treatment I was if he or she was in my situation. It is also not an unreasonable philosophy to hold: you want students to gain a cornucopia of experiences academic and otherwise; diversity makes the beast stronger. If I sat in the same place thinking the same thoughts day after day I would be both very unproductive and, more frighteningly, very boring. The horror. So the fact that this has remained a long-standing policy in American higher education should shock no one and, in fact, is rather comforting to those of us who worry it may have been a lack of credentials that resulted in our rejection. The message? "You're not stupid, we just don't want you back, er, think you should get experience elsewhere." Okay, thanks Ma and Pa, I'm sure it's not about avoiding the appearance of nepotism as well or anything. Okay, maybe there's a little snark here.

I am not done yet, though, because I want to critically examine this academic policy. Without any malice or spitefulness I can say that there are some significant drawbacks to rigidly holding to this admissions principle, the first of which is that it does limit the prospects of students who have very particular interests that may only overlap with a few select departments. If a student becomes enamored with a specific project that is only being pursued at one or a handful of universities, one or the only one of which happens to be his or her alma mater, then what is that student to do? Take it further: the best postgraduate option for that student is the alma mater. Now what? Switch interests or fields? Give up? That seems a bit unreasonable. Why should a student's options suffer, both in quality and quantity, simply because they were a previous admit? Granted, this will only happen in niche cases like mine, but it can and does happen and, frankly, it is probably something worth considering.

To be truthful, I am surprised this kind of thing does not happen more often. Due to the way we rush students through schools in the US, at the undergraduate level many of us only scratch the surface of the fields in which we end up pursuing further study. This brings me to my second point: since students seldom ingrain themselves in specific departments during their time as undergraduates (or, if they do, it is more an ingraining of acquaintance rather than depth; they rarely do any real work with faculty as opposed to under faculty) it may be overblown to characterize the pursuit of further study at the same institution as allowing such students to remain narrowly in a particular comfort zone. The argument seems even more inaccurate for students like myself who have been abroad and working elsewhere for at least two years. Clearly we have been out of our comfort zones for a while and are quite broad, it probably would not hurt to return to a university where we have very few, if any, deep connections with the faculty at large. Even assuming we did the relationship dynamic would be altered significantly by maturation of ideas and divergent experiences, that's simple psychology. Again, I definitely see the merit of the comfort zone concern, but it might be over-emphasized.

Let us take an example from one of the western world's favorite philosophers: Immanuel Kant. Kant has been lauded as a genius, a broad thinker whose ideas were significant in early modern philosophy and remain major points of discussion in  contemporary ethics and politics. Frankly, I think he should also make a fascinating case study for psychology. If the stories about his personal life are to be believed, then Kant, like so many other great minds, was a sad, strange little man. Supposedly he was extremely obsessive-compulsive and clung strongly to his habits. He would, I have been told, walk the same path at the same time in the same city every day. To the best of our knowledge he never really left Konigsberg, yet he somehow managed to produce works that continue to ground many philosophical arguments. Now, tell me something: if a man who never left the town he was born in could do all of that, then why should we assume the current human mind has declined so?

On a final note, I want to return to a matter I raised in point one, that a prospective student's best option might be where he or she completed an undergraduate degree. Now, when I say "best option" I don't just mean "best fit for the project". That's clearly a concern, but it's not the only thing to be thinking about. You also want to be thinking about your future career. If you plan to stay in academia, then you need to get into the most prestigious programs that you can that also support your work. Why? If you do not, then when you go job-hunting you may find your prospects of finding a new home to be, well...nil. That PhD you worked so long to obtain? Yeah, no, that doesn't matter because you got it from Backwoods U, even though your BA was from the University of Awesome.

This leads to a major conflict for people who just want to get the most they can out of academia: How do I plan my college career? That's right, you have to ask someone, at the age of around eighteen, how they want to spend the next four to twelve years. Do you know how many unknown and unsolvable variables there are in four to twelve years? I'll give you a hint: infinitely more than the known ones. Had I known what I would want to do six years ago, would I have made the same choices I did? Maybe (probably, as I try to live without regrets). The problem is that we're now juggling matters that cannot be known, and that's simply unreasonable. Compounding the dilemma is the issue of prestige: if you have already been to the best-rated, best-fit university as an undergraduate and you want to pursue a line of work that you discovered there, only to find out your options are extremely limited and all of the other options are career-killers, then what happens? Alternatively, maybe you think: well, perhaps it would be easier to just start at a decent but not great university and work my way up? Bzzt! Wrong answer, as only 1% of postgraduate admits in elite universities will be from non-elite schools. Bit of a catch-22, isn't it? So what do you do? I keep hearing things like "Change fields" or "Consider other job prospects." I acknowledge that I have to take these options seriously, but that also seems absurd. If someone is really dedicated to a particular line of study and is more than competent enough to flourish in that area, do we not value the idea of aiding this person in realizing his or her goals and, in doing so, benefiting the academic pursuit as a whole? Why would you not want the best people to have the best opportunities? You just end up stifling yourself in the process.

In conclusion, I want to restate that the thesis here is not to completely dismiss the "no readmissions" policy but, rather, to evaluate what I think of as some compelling counter-considerations that universities might want to reflect upon before adopting the policy rigidly. My motives, I hope it is clear, are self-serving only  in the sense that I am an academic, and I want academia to be able to flourish as a whole.

A Surprisingly Decent Sandwich

Welcome back for the weekly update...where, as usual, there really isn't all that much to say.

It's been a rather laid-back week for the two of us, Carina's bout of sinus problems aside. I decided to postpone my auditing until the week of the 30th since, let's face it, no one is going to be teaching all that much before Chinese Lunar New Year. Oh, yes, that's right: Chinese Lunar New Year starts tomorrow evening. That means...um...what does that mean? Well, to be honest I'm not exactly sure, but I know it means a parade (and that our flatmates will be gone for at least a week, thank tian). A new parade means new photos, and new photos mean new camera. "New camera?" you ask. "What happened to the old one?" Well, there's a story there...

Shortly before we left to come home for the winter holiday, there was a bit of a fudge-up with my old digital camera's memory card or memory card slot (not sure which). Originally we were going to take Carina's massive "OMG PICTURES" camera home and leave my smaller, much more reasonably-sized-for-travelling camera in HK. When we had the tech-hiccup, though, I guess Carina decided we should take it back home with us to make sure we could get it working again.

Okay, sure, whatever.

This would have all be fine and dandy except for the part where the camera seems to have been either A) left in Durham or B) hidden somewhere in the apartment here never to be found again. Lovely. As a result, we now had no camera (functioning or otherwise) and no way of taking pictures. To me this is no big deal; to Carina this is a big deal. Weak-willed man that I am, I quickly caved to peer pressure and we set out in search of a new camera.

It didn't take very long for us to locate this little number at a nearby Fortress (the basic electronics chain for Hong Kong) and set ourselves up for another batch of images from this year's parade featuring my zodiac symbol, the dragon. Look forward to it, not only for the pictures you'll be receiving but also because Carina will be posting again!

Anyway, to stay on topic with regard to the title: I had a good sandwich on Thursday. My supervisor took me out to lunch along with his wife and my fellow graduate student, Donald. Chris appreciates good Chinese food, but I think he's also aware of how bad most of the food on Hong Kong island is (unless you pay an arm and a leg). He's also painfully aware of how hard it is to get a good sandwich unless you make it yourself. Fortunately, since he has a bit more "gustatory experience" than I do around here he knows some good places for chow. We went to a place called "Simplylife Bread & Wine" (apparently it's one word) at one of Hong Kong's mega-malls called the "IFC" (styled "ifc" for who knows what reason). Although the place is anything but "simple" it was a nice experience and the food was delicious. I had a baguette with smoked turkey, brie, and basil. I don't usually eat cheese but the turkey was too good to pass up and I did not regret my deviation from the norm. I might take Carina over at some point. It's definitely a place worth recommending, as are most of the dining venues in that area. I guess when you have something like a mega-mall you want to make it attractive to all the senses, right?

The best part of the meal, however, is that Chris is firmly on-board with my timetable and seemed very much willing to help me finish my degree before my lease expires. He seems to have mellowed out quite a bit over the holiday, no doubt thanks to his wife's presence. She seems to be an insightful and gregarious woman and I think that suits his needs well. He also lost quite a bit of weight and I know how that can also make a person feel a bit better. I think this last semester will be one to relish.

On a final note, I'm buckling down to re-learn what Chinese I learned before along with about 2000 additional characters. My goal is to learn the 3000 most common Chinese characters before I start my PhD (wherever that may be). Keep your fingers crossed for good news in the next month or two!

Okay, this is Colin signing off!

Readjustments

Jet-lag is a pain in the keister. I guess that's why I keep two different schedules for when I'm on home soil as opposed to Hong Kong asphalt (because, as we know, there is no soil in Hong Kong). At home I usually sleep from 10PM-6AM with flexibility on days off. Here I sleep from around 8PM-4AM, then nap after my morning workout. That significantly reduces the number of hours I have to adjust by. Of course, crowd density and temperature in the morning hours are also significant reasons to wake up early in HK, but I wanted to open with the topic of jet-lag because it's something that anyone moving to Hong Kong from the US has to deal with.

That and the damp.

Numerous people have said that the winter is one of the worst times to visit HK. Barring Lunar New Year (dragons represent, woot-woot!), there really isn't much to do in HK from January-February. Of course, I don't think there's much to do in HK at any time during the year, so that's not really a good point of warning. What is worth being wary of is the fact that it's so freaking moist here. 

In the non-winter months, heat and humidity are oppressive. They form a smothering blanket that will just make your life miserable. Winter wetness, however, is a whole different monster. Although staying cool is no problem, keeping warm and dry can be. Since no one uses a bloody dryer in Hong Kong, it's virtually impossible to completely dry your clothes without getting creative. To that end we've set up a fan and a makeshift clothes rack in our room to expedite the (semi-) drying process. It's not very effective, but it's better than waiting a week for your clothes to dry and praying that it doesn't rain.

Speaking of the rain, it has been pouring here for the past two days. It begs the question of where all of this water is during the hot months. You know, when it would actually be nice to have around. I don't think I need to tell you that I'm not exactly looking forward to going out in this weather, especially not with one pair of shoes already soaked from my morning run. I hope that fan can at least dry those out at a reasonable rate...

Clothes aren't the only thing to worry about, though. The moisture seeps into everything. You cannot leave anything near a window, as there is no insulation in these buildings; it's just plaster. I learned this last year with some papers I had resting near the window. When I found them melded together one day I knew I had reason for concern (good thing they weren't important).

Of course, having no insulation also brings us back to the point about keeping warm. Although I'm still walking around in my boxers, I have taken to wearing my jacket around the apartment in the mornings just to put a layer between myself and the air. We've even been able to use real blankets at night which is a pleasant change. There's just something satisfying about being able to curl up under a comforter and sleep at night...even if it is a little moist. Note to self: do not wash any of the sheets until late February/early March. Also, do not wash all jackets at the same time. We made that mistake last winter...

The only other thing we've really been readjusting to is cooking in HK, a challenge that I actually enjoy to a degree. Although we lack a good kitchen, we supplement our deficiencies with creativity. I'm back on the quest to perfect my signature pasta sauce and I've made some interesting developments in oil-free/minimal oil cooking. I know, blasphemy, but give it a shot sometime and see if you like it. Carina also attempted to make veggie burgers the other night and, although they weren't quite burgers, they were delicious open-faced sandwiches. Also: peanut butter, yum.

This week HKU opens up for its students again and it's the first semester where there aren't any classes that really interest me. I'm going to audit what I can, but I'm not expecting much aside from the senior seminar. I'm not TA'ing this semester either, so that's even less to occupy my time. The good news is that Chris has assured me he will be getting back to me with comments around the end of the month. That's good, but we really need to be on top of things right now. I'll be having lunch with him on Thursday and I'll try to make it clear to him that when I say "May 17th deadline," I mean it. I really can't afford to do things any differently. No, literally, I can't afford it: we don't have the money!

A quick blurb about Carina (who has largely abandoned this blog since she writes her own which is probably far superior to this one): She's doing pretty well. She's been sick for the past few days but I think she's getting past it nicely. She even started working out again today and looks  great. I think she's really dedicated to getting into a healthy routine and I'm happy about that. I just hope she can keep it up and not get worn down by this weather, let alone her boss and schoolwork.

Oh, that's more good news: she's getting her contract renewed and pay raise today. That means we'll have more income and that means we can eat more (always a good thing). We'll also be having coffee with our friend and colleague Alex today and find out if she still needs a position filled. I think the best part is that Carina seems to have a pretty good deal of control over her workload now, so hopefully she'll be less stressed-out and able to get her schoolwork done in a way she finds suitable. That's particularly good since I think she's really going to enjoy her current class.

All right, that's thirty minutes of blogging out of my day. Back to...whatever it is I do.

Stay in school...and never leave,

Colin

Hong Kong: The Final Chapter Begins

Epic title for a not-so-epic post. I really just wanted to update the blog and let everyone know that we safely arrived back in Hong Kong and are currently awake at 6-something AM to tell you about it. Yay.

The only real point of interest is that this will be our last stint in Hong Kong (thank tian) and that come 18 May we will be back in the good old US of A to stay. Well, we'll stay for as long as it suits us. No promises, folks. I am not a fortune teller.

What I can tell, though, is that I am hoping to hear back from Duke University with an offer of admission within the next three months. Alternative schools include Riverside and Utah, but Duke is probably the best option given the bent of my work. If that ends up being the case then, yes, we will be staying in the old country for at least another four years.

That is the possible future, though, and in the present we are back in Hong Kong. So, how is it? Well, as I expected it's another case of "the more things change the more they stay the same," by which I mean tons of construction. Everywhere. At all hours. Perhaps the epitome of this saying can be viewed next door, where a bakery chain is undergoing renovations. Their sign? "Coming soon: Maxim's Bakery." Yes, that's right, something that was already there is coming soon.

Let's set that paradox aside, though, and look at the bright side (there's always a bright side, right?), upon which we find that the construction along the path I like to run in the morning has mostly been cleared up, so hooray for no more crazy dodging traffic to cross the road. Also, it's winter, or what passes for winter in Hong Kong, which means we can wear clothes again...for a while, anyway. So hurrah for all of that.

This is a Colin blog, though, which means I must kvetch about something. The topic of today's kvetch? Air Canada. You know, I thought dealing with Air Canada would be like dealing with most Canadians which means an intelligent, considerate exchange of ideas while maintaining respect for one another's humanity and holding a friendly demeanor. Yeah, no. Although the lovely 777 was probably the most comfortable flight I've been on since Lufthansa with regard to my back (which doesn't say much but I'll give credit where it's due) we were treated to the most vile food I think I've ever been served on an airplane. Do you want the rundown? No? Too bad, you're getting it anyway.

First off, the snacks: pretzels. Pretzels are a pretty standard snack on airlines since peanuts were banned due to allergies. Although I continue to miss those awesome, roasted legumes I do love pretzels so it's a change I warily accepted. Air Canada is like most airlines in this regard yet they have added a strange twist (no pun intended) to their mini pretzels: fat-free artificial butter flavoring. Now, as a health nut you might think I wouldn't be too terribly offended by the fact that the flavoring adds no fat content (although who knows what chemicals it puts in your body?). I also like my food to taste good, though, and I've never seen the point of putting butter on much anything, least of all baked mini-pretzels. Although I eventually got over the weirdness of it, I cannot help but be put-off by the unnecessary additive. Still, this was probably the best thing we were given to eat.

Next was lunch: pork. I should have known things were going downhill when they were less than half-way through the lunch service and already out of options for what you would get. A lunch tray was dropped before me with some run-of-the-mill Chinese pork dish for me to eat. To their credit, it still tasted better than what you get at most diners in Hong Kong. On the downside I had no poultry option and the salad they served, although flavorful, was just too small. I guess the chocolate cake dessert was okay? I don't really know, it was all pretty generic.

The mid-flight snack: Cup Noodles (yes, the ramen brand), a roast beef nano-baguette (I say nano because it was too small to be "mini" and, being Canadian, included mayonnaise for no good reason), and a little bran biscuit thingy. Once again, the smallest item was probably the tastiest (and healthiest). I don't think I need to tell you how I feel about mayo, so I'll just say that the nano tasted like something out of Lunchables box. I haven't eaten Lunchables since I was in elementary school, and there's a reason for that. As for the Cup Noodles, well, I think you all understand why I don't like clogging my body with all that crap. To this day I have yet to understand how they even get 13 grams of fat and over 300 calories into a container of noodles and broth and why anyone would want to eat it. Yet I did. Now I am sick and probably should work-out more.

Finally, breakfast: I did not have breakfast. After the Cup Noodles I could not bring myself to eat anything else. The options were congee (which is blander than grits) and cheese omelette, neither of which appeal to me. I said "No thank you," and contented myself with much needed orange juice to re-hydrate. Carina ate some breakfast and said it was pretty awful. I'll take her word for it.

So, what did we learn? Well, we learned that Air Canada's food sucks and should be consumed only by bacteria capable of breaking down the most complex compounds and converting them into substances that would actually benefit rather than poison humans. Next time out we will be picking up our own foods to eat and avoiding the in-flight fare (unless it's actually good which is unlikely) as well as the in-flight upset stomachs. Seriously, I haven't felt that ill since I was a kid and ate all of my Halloween candy in one night. Ugh!

That aside, it's nice to be down and resting. Today we need to finish organizing the apartment and do a little food shopping. That means taking inventory of both our stores and our cash. Hopefully we've amassed enough to avoid any potential problems. I guess we'll see. Until then, we remain faithfully yours.

Hearts, stars, and horseshoes,

Colin