For some time, I have pondered on the genius of Albert Einstein. In no uncertain terms will I ever claim to have even a rudimentary understanding of the math this man grasped. My brain aches any time I attempt to understand how Einstein was able to work through complex algebraic and geometrical math before breaking them down into a layman's philosophy.
As human beings, whether we grasp this concept or not, we think linearly. Even in our youth, teachers forced us to create "timelines" in English and history classes. For those of us lacking real math skills, those timelines also looked like integers that our math teachers made us map out; tick marks, positives and negatives, with zero always the midpoint.
Einstein's Theory of General Relativity opened a whole new way of thinking for scientists. Brother Albert once claimed that if the human could see far enough, he/she could see the back of his/her own head. He claimed that space and time were not mutually exclusive, but that one lived because of and with the other. In that context space IS time, and the rate of speed in which we accelerate through space dictates the passing and rate of time spent in motion. Is your head hurting yet?
The curvature of the earth is a remedial example of this theory. If we look at distances between countries on opposites sides of the planet on a flat map, our brains see distance and time spent traveling in a linear fashion. However, a pilot will fly a plane in a wide arc up and away, or down and away, to save flight miles and time spent in the air to cover the distance.
"What does any of this have to do with my blog entry," you may ask? Well, I am of the notion that Einstein's theory was given to us to not only help us understand the finite universe, but to lend a hand to humanity in the way we think and see ourselves as creatures occupying an area at a given time. My belief that we are all interconnected through space, time, and our human-ness, runs parallel to my notion that we are also weaved together by our ancestors.
My point? If space and time are curved and spherical like everything in nature, is it unreasonable to believe the beginning of mankind stands immediately next to us in the here and now? If this concept is to be believed and understood, it should also be comprehended that we are indelibly connected to one another AND we are truly meshed with everything in space and time.
Yes, I understand the gravity (ba-da-bum) of this entry, but I honestly believe that we, as a species, must attempt to look at our world in a broader more spherical context, rather than distance (or time) from point a to point b. When we do that, we are forced to be kinder, more understanding, and *gulp* happier.
"Space by itself, and time by itself, are doomed to fade away into mere shadows, and only a kind of union of the two will preserve an independent reality." ~Albert Einstein
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Saturday, November 18, 2017
So Many Blessings
Cathy and I have been blessed beyond measure to get to travel the globe. I get that this is a truism and want everyone to realize we understand how blessed we are and continue to be. For those who have not had the good fortune to see other countries, or other regions of our own massive United States (or Canada), I entice you to take a trip to some place new, even if that place is close to home.
I have some personal favorites that come to mind both near and far (at least from my personal locale) that I have seen and touched and will share with you here in hopes that you might see the beauty of our own nation. Many of these trips are affordable and worth your time and energy to get to--so get out there and see stuff!
(Note: Yes, I am aware that I sound like a dime store travel guide)
Mt. Cheaha, Alabama
This mountain was a place very special to the Muscogee Indians who inhabited the land around it for generations. The highest point in Alabama, as well as the highest point south of Interstate 20, Mt. Cheaha is rife with hiking trails and campgrounds for those seeking time alone in the densely wooded area. I especially love this mountain and have spent countless hours hiking the Pinhoti Trail from the top down through the valleys below. From atop Cheaha you can peer down on the Coosa Valley and see the end of the Appalachian Mountain Chain, for which Cheaha is a part. The ridges of the mountain always remind me of a sleeping dragon, but I digress...
New Orleans, Louisiana
The Crescent City is both filthy and simultaneously beautiful. Tragedy and victory lie within the city's walls, as we all remember Hurricane Katrina and revel in the port's rich and dynamic history. Much has been written about the French Quarter, so I won't go into great detail here. I will say that it is a worthwhile trip for folks within easy driving distance to take in a place so rich in Americana. And the food--Laissez le bon temps rouler!
Shenandoah Valley, Virginia
Easily the most breathtaking views in the eastern half of the United States. The history of the area is tantalizing and the Appalachians to your west are amazing. Naturally, Fall foliage is something to see, but I prefer a drive through the valley during winter time when snow sits atop the mountainous peaks.
New York City, New York
I must profess a love-hate relationship with what locals call "the city." I enjoy visiting once in a blue moon, and despise the place toward the end because of the hustle and bustle, and much rudeness that abounds in the Big Apple. That said, there is no finer dining than NYC, and my favorite area of Chinatown is the largest of its namesake in the United States. You can't beat the fun of Chinatown during the summer. The East Village has very cool clubs and excellent food, but for an incredible evening, try the rooftop lounge of the Empire Hotel.
Moab, Utah
One of the funkiest towns I've ever visited. Moab sits in the southeast of one of the most beautiful states in the country and is also nearby one of my favorite places-Arches National Park. Hippies and wannabes comb the streets during the summer. Don't be surprised when a twenty-something white guy with dread locks waits on you at a local restaurant. Oh, and don't sit around the town and not see the Delicate Arch. It's worth the short hike up a steep rock hill to see that incredible work of nature!
Crescent City, California
You can keep San Diego, Los Angeles and the entire Bay Area. Those places aren't my cup of tea, but the small village of Crescent City is amazing. Nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the jaw dropping Redwood Forest lies a gem of a town. The locals are so very friendly. Take a couple mile journey from town to see the biggest trees imaginable standing proudly in the California rain forest. Yes, it does rain (constantly) in northern California. Don't forget to watch for sea lions on the rock walls next to the PCH (US Highway 1, or the Pacific Coast Highway).
Boston, Massachusetts
Boston is a very interesting city. It's small, as far as metropolitan areas are concerned, but it is rich in history and wonder. For a southerner, the people can be crude and callous, but don't let that sway your opinion of the place. Remember, we seem like backwoods folk to them. :) If you visit Boston, I highly recommend taking a ridiculous ride on one of Ducks, the land/sea flotilla that is owned by the city that offers historical tours both on land and river. Friends took me on this tour a few years ago and I will never forget it. Great times, indeed!
Portland, Oregon
Portland is a strange town, in that bicyclists and pedestrians have more road rights than motorists. Be careful if you drive around town. Should you hit one of the aforementioned, you will likely be held for cause, even if it wasn't your fault. All that aside, hanging out in a town guarded by the glorious Mt. Hood is always fun. I loved Jimmy Mak's jazz club for an evening of soothing music and good food.
St. Augustine, Florida
I have often told people that St. Augustine is my favorite place in the United States, and that hasn't changed. I have walked the "Old City" so many times that I have gotten to know local shop owners on a first name basis. St. Augustine is the oldest, continuously inhabited city in the country. Founded in 1565 by the Spanish, the town still houses the Castillo de San Marcos: the Spanish fort built to protect the town from invaders. The lighthouse that sits a few miles from the Castillo is a favorite place of ghost hunters and Isabella's Cigar Shop on Cuna Street is one of my favorite haunts (no pun intended). If you stop in, tell Isabella that Cathy and I said hello. She's a wonderful Cuban-American lady with fantastic stories to tell.
These are just a few of my favorite places to visit in the U.S. I hope you have the opportunity to visit a few of them, or compile a list of your own personal favorites. You can't beat traveling and experiencing new places, and our grand country should be explored as much as any other place you favor.
Have fun!
I have some personal favorites that come to mind both near and far (at least from my personal locale) that I have seen and touched and will share with you here in hopes that you might see the beauty of our own nation. Many of these trips are affordable and worth your time and energy to get to--so get out there and see stuff!
(Note: Yes, I am aware that I sound like a dime store travel guide)
Mt. Cheaha, Alabama
This mountain was a place very special to the Muscogee Indians who inhabited the land around it for generations. The highest point in Alabama, as well as the highest point south of Interstate 20, Mt. Cheaha is rife with hiking trails and campgrounds for those seeking time alone in the densely wooded area. I especially love this mountain and have spent countless hours hiking the Pinhoti Trail from the top down through the valleys below. From atop Cheaha you can peer down on the Coosa Valley and see the end of the Appalachian Mountain Chain, for which Cheaha is a part. The ridges of the mountain always remind me of a sleeping dragon, but I digress...
New Orleans, Louisiana
The Crescent City is both filthy and simultaneously beautiful. Tragedy and victory lie within the city's walls, as we all remember Hurricane Katrina and revel in the port's rich and dynamic history. Much has been written about the French Quarter, so I won't go into great detail here. I will say that it is a worthwhile trip for folks within easy driving distance to take in a place so rich in Americana. And the food--Laissez le bon temps rouler!
Shenandoah Valley, Virginia
Easily the most breathtaking views in the eastern half of the United States. The history of the area is tantalizing and the Appalachians to your west are amazing. Naturally, Fall foliage is something to see, but I prefer a drive through the valley during winter time when snow sits atop the mountainous peaks.
New York City, New York
I must profess a love-hate relationship with what locals call "the city." I enjoy visiting once in a blue moon, and despise the place toward the end because of the hustle and bustle, and much rudeness that abounds in the Big Apple. That said, there is no finer dining than NYC, and my favorite area of Chinatown is the largest of its namesake in the United States. You can't beat the fun of Chinatown during the summer. The East Village has very cool clubs and excellent food, but for an incredible evening, try the rooftop lounge of the Empire Hotel.
Moab, Utah
One of the funkiest towns I've ever visited. Moab sits in the southeast of one of the most beautiful states in the country and is also nearby one of my favorite places-Arches National Park. Hippies and wannabes comb the streets during the summer. Don't be surprised when a twenty-something white guy with dread locks waits on you at a local restaurant. Oh, and don't sit around the town and not see the Delicate Arch. It's worth the short hike up a steep rock hill to see that incredible work of nature!
Crescent City, California
You can keep San Diego, Los Angeles and the entire Bay Area. Those places aren't my cup of tea, but the small village of Crescent City is amazing. Nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the jaw dropping Redwood Forest lies a gem of a town. The locals are so very friendly. Take a couple mile journey from town to see the biggest trees imaginable standing proudly in the California rain forest. Yes, it does rain (constantly) in northern California. Don't forget to watch for sea lions on the rock walls next to the PCH (US Highway 1, or the Pacific Coast Highway).
Boston, Massachusetts
Boston is a very interesting city. It's small, as far as metropolitan areas are concerned, but it is rich in history and wonder. For a southerner, the people can be crude and callous, but don't let that sway your opinion of the place. Remember, we seem like backwoods folk to them. :) If you visit Boston, I highly recommend taking a ridiculous ride on one of Ducks, the land/sea flotilla that is owned by the city that offers historical tours both on land and river. Friends took me on this tour a few years ago and I will never forget it. Great times, indeed!
Portland, Oregon
Portland is a strange town, in that bicyclists and pedestrians have more road rights than motorists. Be careful if you drive around town. Should you hit one of the aforementioned, you will likely be held for cause, even if it wasn't your fault. All that aside, hanging out in a town guarded by the glorious Mt. Hood is always fun. I loved Jimmy Mak's jazz club for an evening of soothing music and good food.
St. Augustine, Florida
I have often told people that St. Augustine is my favorite place in the United States, and that hasn't changed. I have walked the "Old City" so many times that I have gotten to know local shop owners on a first name basis. St. Augustine is the oldest, continuously inhabited city in the country. Founded in 1565 by the Spanish, the town still houses the Castillo de San Marcos: the Spanish fort built to protect the town from invaders. The lighthouse that sits a few miles from the Castillo is a favorite place of ghost hunters and Isabella's Cigar Shop on Cuna Street is one of my favorite haunts (no pun intended). If you stop in, tell Isabella that Cathy and I said hello. She's a wonderful Cuban-American lady with fantastic stories to tell.
These are just a few of my favorite places to visit in the U.S. I hope you have the opportunity to visit a few of them, or compile a list of your own personal favorites. You can't beat traveling and experiencing new places, and our grand country should be explored as much as any other place you favor.
Have fun!
Monday, November 13, 2017
Thailand--My Thoughts
Bangkok is a massive city teeming with Buddhist temples and canals to help drain flood prone areas during the rainy season. On its streets, taxis, buses, cars, and Mopeds zip from location to location--traffic lights and stop signs are mere suggestions. Back alleys support traffic and hawker stalls with food and trinkets for sale are available for the adventurous.
As in most third world countries, there are two classes of people: the very wealthy and the excessively poor. Single items such as small bottles of vinegar and other condiments are sold for twenty baht so the poor can afford them (currently, thirty-two baht is equivalent to one U.S. dollar). The homeless sit on platforms and steps begging for change, many of whom wear ragged clothing and have obvious physical disabilities. It seems to me that the world's poor have the same face no matter the region or country.
Like other Asian nations, the Thai people are extremely friendly, placing their hands in prayerful supplication and bowing when they finish a conversation or financial transaction. Broad smiles light up their faces; a truly happy people.
Many of the sidewalks are built with their version of paving stones. As you walk, it is important to be aware of the ones that have come loose or you will pay for your inattention by tripping and falling down. Conversely, the streets are in perfect condition--a testament to the level of importance the government places on moving traffic in a city of eighteen million people.
Billboards, the size of which I have never seen in my life, line bustling highways. Advertising everything from perfume to warnings about Buddhist statues not being used for adornment and decoration, the signs span a football field in length.
The Air Train is their public rail system that moves hundreds of thousands of people a day through the expanse of buildings and markets. People are very polite, but the Thai tend to be louder than many of their Asian counterparts.
Bangkok is a city paralyzed by its past and struggling to catch up to the rest of the word. Financially speaking, the developing nation reminds me much of the Philippines. Their greatest asset is their people and it shows in how they treat guests. The Thai people are very service oriented and tend to great everyone with a smile and a bow. It is so refreshing to be in a place where courtesy outweighs the need to get from point A to a final destination. Things move rapidly in this big city, but you get a distinct sense that if you do not arrive on time the world will continue spinning without reason for discontent.
The air is hot, even by Alabama standards, and moisture hangs in the air like a wet towel on a clothes line. Sweat drips off your body within seconds of stepping outside and anywhere there is shade, you will find a Thai lounging beneath. Bottled water is a must, as tap water is not to be trusted--this is the same in developing nations around the world.
A tour of Buddhist temples is a must if you visit. The reverence the Thai people place on their religion and on the monks who practice this way of spirituality is a part of who they are. Kindness and politeness are bridged by their religion.
While touring one of the many exquisite temples, a monk yelled at me, "Today is a beautiful day to see our temple, yes?" He beamed with pride!
"Yes, and your temple is glorious and beautiful," I responded.
He bowed before thanking me for my response, a huge smile showing a mouthful of teeth and even more pride that a foreigner would say something like I did.
How many times did I say something was beautiful, nice, or clean, only to be thanked by our tour guide? It is apparent that Bangkok is its people, and its people is Bangkok.
After spending so much time in the city, we ventured three and a half hours west to the Thailand/Myanmar (Burma) border. Lush jungles and pointed mountain peaks loomed as though warning onlookers to venture no further or face a hell they could not possibly understand.
We walked through one of the many tiny markets in a small town whose barely paved roads were filled with rain water and mud to awaiting railroad tracks. Our guide had us carefully walk on the tracks which stretched over the River Kwae (that is Kwai if you are a westerner) until we reached the side of a mountain with a man-made cave opened to anyone wanting to enter.
It was explained to us that during the Japanese occupation of Thailand, POW's were forced to chisel out the cave so Japanese soldiers had a place to camp and sleep. The size of the cave was impressive and a Buddhist shrine now sits inside for an individual to step forward to pray for the souls lost during the digging of the cave, or to simply ask for the Asian god for good luck and fortune.
Our next stop was Hellfire Pass. For those, like me, who do not understand what Hellfire Pass was, I will attempt to give you highlights. The Japanese, during World War II, wanted to invade India via Calcutta. Since that area of the gigantic nation is landlocked, they believed the easiest way was to force POW's to build a railroad through Thailand and Burma that would carry soldiers for the imminent invasion. POW's were forced to work eighteen hours a day in stifling heat, while being eaten alive by malaria laden mosquitoes. They were given two meals a day of rice and water with no protein of any kind. Their bodies withered to nothing as they hand chiseled through granite hillsides, the Japanese beating them if they didn't work hard enough. POW's too weak to continue were left to the side to die.
Slathered in mosquito repellent, we walked a mile and a half of what remained of the Pass. The mosquitos buzzed our heads, and a couple brave ones managed to bit me where I either missed putting a dollop of the cream, or they simply didn't care. Either way, I kept imagining myself laying in a Thai hospital while running a 105 degree fever. Fortunately, that did not happen.
Incredibly large groves of bamboo lined the old railroad path and large trees fought to reclaim that which was removed some seventy-five years earlier. The Myanmar border was just to our west, the mountains providing a natural separation between the two countries. Our bodies were dripping with sweat by the time we reached the visitor center; the railroad tracks had long since been removed and concrete steps moving tourists up and down the trail remained. Our legs were screaming for mercy, despite the short hike through the jungle.
Our van sat idle in the parking lot, and I cannot recall a time when air conditioning felt so good. After an hour drive, we stopped to walk across a special bridge. If you have ever seen the movie "Bridge over the River Kwai" then you are familiar with the wooden and steel bridges the Japanese again forced POW's to build during WWII.
Our short trek over the railroad tracks on the bridge took us to an awaiting boat that shot us up and down the river as we snapped photos and looked at shanties and luxury river suites. The very poor and rich shared the river's shores, a strangely bitter scene that was not lost on me.
Water from the river covered our legs that was splashed from the low seated skiff. Our river captain eased the boat to the dock where we exited and walked to our van. Once again, we understood why the Thai people value air conditioning like they do. Our driver handed us cold towels dipped in a sanitary concoction so we could clean ourselves up and cool down a little faster. I can't explain how good those little towels felt after spending time in humidity that felt as though it was embracing you like a long-lost family member.
The three remaining three hour drive back to our condo allowed us to see repeating scenes. Street after street, block after block, people sold their wares from small hawker stalls and make-shift carts. Food, trinkets, basic needs, everything a person required to live life could be purchased. Westerners are used to buying things in bulk, but the poor Asians sell single items. Things like a single egg, a tiny pack of toilet paper, a single cigarette, etc. can be bought from one of these stalls.
We stumbled into our place after the long drive, my eyes bloodshot and my body weary. I allowed myself a little time to process everything I had seen before drifting off to sleep. Allow me to say that I am so happy I got to experience this phenomenal country.
As in most third world countries, there are two classes of people: the very wealthy and the excessively poor. Single items such as small bottles of vinegar and other condiments are sold for twenty baht so the poor can afford them (currently, thirty-two baht is equivalent to one U.S. dollar). The homeless sit on platforms and steps begging for change, many of whom wear ragged clothing and have obvious physical disabilities. It seems to me that the world's poor have the same face no matter the region or country.
Like other Asian nations, the Thai people are extremely friendly, placing their hands in prayerful supplication and bowing when they finish a conversation or financial transaction. Broad smiles light up their faces; a truly happy people.
Many of the sidewalks are built with their version of paving stones. As you walk, it is important to be aware of the ones that have come loose or you will pay for your inattention by tripping and falling down. Conversely, the streets are in perfect condition--a testament to the level of importance the government places on moving traffic in a city of eighteen million people.
Billboards, the size of which I have never seen in my life, line bustling highways. Advertising everything from perfume to warnings about Buddhist statues not being used for adornment and decoration, the signs span a football field in length.
The Air Train is their public rail system that moves hundreds of thousands of people a day through the expanse of buildings and markets. People are very polite, but the Thai tend to be louder than many of their Asian counterparts.
Bangkok is a city paralyzed by its past and struggling to catch up to the rest of the word. Financially speaking, the developing nation reminds me much of the Philippines. Their greatest asset is their people and it shows in how they treat guests. The Thai people are very service oriented and tend to great everyone with a smile and a bow. It is so refreshing to be in a place where courtesy outweighs the need to get from point A to a final destination. Things move rapidly in this big city, but you get a distinct sense that if you do not arrive on time the world will continue spinning without reason for discontent.
The air is hot, even by Alabama standards, and moisture hangs in the air like a wet towel on a clothes line. Sweat drips off your body within seconds of stepping outside and anywhere there is shade, you will find a Thai lounging beneath. Bottled water is a must, as tap water is not to be trusted--this is the same in developing nations around the world.
A tour of Buddhist temples is a must if you visit. The reverence the Thai people place on their religion and on the monks who practice this way of spirituality is a part of who they are. Kindness and politeness are bridged by their religion.
While touring one of the many exquisite temples, a monk yelled at me, "Today is a beautiful day to see our temple, yes?" He beamed with pride!
"Yes, and your temple is glorious and beautiful," I responded.
He bowed before thanking me for my response, a huge smile showing a mouthful of teeth and even more pride that a foreigner would say something like I did.
How many times did I say something was beautiful, nice, or clean, only to be thanked by our tour guide? It is apparent that Bangkok is its people, and its people is Bangkok.
After spending so much time in the city, we ventured three and a half hours west to the Thailand/Myanmar (Burma) border. Lush jungles and pointed mountain peaks loomed as though warning onlookers to venture no further or face a hell they could not possibly understand.
We walked through one of the many tiny markets in a small town whose barely paved roads were filled with rain water and mud to awaiting railroad tracks. Our guide had us carefully walk on the tracks which stretched over the River Kwae (that is Kwai if you are a westerner) until we reached the side of a mountain with a man-made cave opened to anyone wanting to enter.
It was explained to us that during the Japanese occupation of Thailand, POW's were forced to chisel out the cave so Japanese soldiers had a place to camp and sleep. The size of the cave was impressive and a Buddhist shrine now sits inside for an individual to step forward to pray for the souls lost during the digging of the cave, or to simply ask for the Asian god for good luck and fortune.
Our next stop was Hellfire Pass. For those, like me, who do not understand what Hellfire Pass was, I will attempt to give you highlights. The Japanese, during World War II, wanted to invade India via Calcutta. Since that area of the gigantic nation is landlocked, they believed the easiest way was to force POW's to build a railroad through Thailand and Burma that would carry soldiers for the imminent invasion. POW's were forced to work eighteen hours a day in stifling heat, while being eaten alive by malaria laden mosquitoes. They were given two meals a day of rice and water with no protein of any kind. Their bodies withered to nothing as they hand chiseled through granite hillsides, the Japanese beating them if they didn't work hard enough. POW's too weak to continue were left to the side to die.
Slathered in mosquito repellent, we walked a mile and a half of what remained of the Pass. The mosquitos buzzed our heads, and a couple brave ones managed to bit me where I either missed putting a dollop of the cream, or they simply didn't care. Either way, I kept imagining myself laying in a Thai hospital while running a 105 degree fever. Fortunately, that did not happen.
Incredibly large groves of bamboo lined the old railroad path and large trees fought to reclaim that which was removed some seventy-five years earlier. The Myanmar border was just to our west, the mountains providing a natural separation between the two countries. Our bodies were dripping with sweat by the time we reached the visitor center; the railroad tracks had long since been removed and concrete steps moving tourists up and down the trail remained. Our legs were screaming for mercy, despite the short hike through the jungle.
Our van sat idle in the parking lot, and I cannot recall a time when air conditioning felt so good. After an hour drive, we stopped to walk across a special bridge. If you have ever seen the movie "Bridge over the River Kwai" then you are familiar with the wooden and steel bridges the Japanese again forced POW's to build during WWII.
Our short trek over the railroad tracks on the bridge took us to an awaiting boat that shot us up and down the river as we snapped photos and looked at shanties and luxury river suites. The very poor and rich shared the river's shores, a strangely bitter scene that was not lost on me.
Water from the river covered our legs that was splashed from the low seated skiff. Our river captain eased the boat to the dock where we exited and walked to our van. Once again, we understood why the Thai people value air conditioning like they do. Our driver handed us cold towels dipped in a sanitary concoction so we could clean ourselves up and cool down a little faster. I can't explain how good those little towels felt after spending time in humidity that felt as though it was embracing you like a long-lost family member.
The three remaining three hour drive back to our condo allowed us to see repeating scenes. Street after street, block after block, people sold their wares from small hawker stalls and make-shift carts. Food, trinkets, basic needs, everything a person required to live life could be purchased. Westerners are used to buying things in bulk, but the poor Asians sell single items. Things like a single egg, a tiny pack of toilet paper, a single cigarette, etc. can be bought from one of these stalls.
We stumbled into our place after the long drive, my eyes bloodshot and my body weary. I allowed myself a little time to process everything I had seen before drifting off to sleep. Allow me to say that I am so happy I got to experience this phenomenal country.
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
Hong Kong--An Introspective Look
As many who follow me know, I have been in Hong Kong for a short amount of time.. This is my second trip to this beautiful city and I would like to offer you a glimpse of life here. The city is a bustling hub of business and diversity, not so dissimilar to the United States biggest metropolises, most notably New York City.
It is always interesting, to me at least, to compare and contrast how I perceive an area and its inhabitant to our own in the U.S. Without offering a detailed, step-by-step, blog about our trip, I prefer to describe the place to you in hopes that you can have a glimpse into life here.
Hong Kongians (Hong Kongites--I'm really not sure) are addicted to their phones on a scale that puts the United States to shame. As much as it drives me crazy to see people walking around with their noses stuck to their miniature screens, the people of Hong Kong take it to a whole new level. When Cathy and I were here several yeas ago (2009), this was not an issue. With the progression of technology, people cannot put them down and focus on what is around them.
To be honest, this is my only real criticism of the people of Hong Kong. They are extremely gracious, very helpful, and incredibly friendly when engaged in conversation, as limited as it sometimes is.
Packed at all hours is the subway system with people moving about the city. When I say "packed," I mean people squeezed into each car like sardines in a can. Immediately, I noticed two things: a.) few, if any, Hong Kongians wear cologne or perfume, and b.) there was little to no body odor noticed, even with all the arms raised above head level while hanging onto the rails and handles in the subway cars. These are the things I pay attention to when I travel--sites, smells, tastes, sounds, and language (spoken and body).
Missing is the constant horn blowing that you hear throughout other large cities in the world, and totally absent is the sound of police sirens. There is no worry when walking down sidewalks during the day or night, even as people offer a quick glance your way because your features and stature, while not uncommon to them, are still foreign in a country that is ninety-two percent Chinese.
As with most metropolitan areas, the periodic smell of open sewers sometimes hits you like a baseball to the head, but it is brushed aside by the incredible aromas of restaurants cooking and offering their wares until the late night hours. Hong Kong's harbor teams with activity--sampan boats, ocean liners, and shipping vessels float its waters throughout the day. Gone is the smell I remembered eight years ago from the harbor, but I have not asked what has been done to correct the obvious pollution.
The former British colony is still governed by Parliamentary laws and policy, but the presence of the parental China is certainly seen and felt. Military personnel await foreign travelers in airports and in the subway system. The British influence is still felt by way of local vehicles, with their steering wheels on the right side while they drive on the left side of the road.
Another interesting nuance I picked up was the lack of interchange on city streets, subways, or in the markets. People avoided touching one another to the greatest extent possible, and rarely made eye contact with anyone around them (except me, the large quai lo).
Finally, I spent a little time in two Buddhist temples, one complete with a monastery on the property. It is tantamount, at least in my mind, to attempt some trite understanding of another culture's religion or spirituality when trying to understand them as a people. I do not know the percentage of secular peoples on the island, but I will say I personally witnessed some devout Buddhists while here. One lady in particular climbed the two hundred sixty-eight steps to the Tian Tan Buddha on Lantau Island. Every two or three steps she would drop to her knees and gesticulate in front of the large statue. Next, I watched her walk around the Buddha statue counter-clockwise three times, her eyes closed, palms together as she prayed. For me, this was a moving tribute for a religion westerners do not fully comprehend and struggle to accept.
Should you get the chance to visit Hong Kong, Kow Loon, and Lantau Island, I encourage you to take advantage of your time and take in as much of the culture as possible. The Chinese are beautiful people and I am happy to have shared a moment in time and space with them.
It is always interesting, to me at least, to compare and contrast how I perceive an area and its inhabitant to our own in the U.S. Without offering a detailed, step-by-step, blog about our trip, I prefer to describe the place to you in hopes that you can have a glimpse into life here.
Hong Kongians (Hong Kongites--I'm really not sure) are addicted to their phones on a scale that puts the United States to shame. As much as it drives me crazy to see people walking around with their noses stuck to their miniature screens, the people of Hong Kong take it to a whole new level. When Cathy and I were here several yeas ago (2009), this was not an issue. With the progression of technology, people cannot put them down and focus on what is around them.
To be honest, this is my only real criticism of the people of Hong Kong. They are extremely gracious, very helpful, and incredibly friendly when engaged in conversation, as limited as it sometimes is.
Packed at all hours is the subway system with people moving about the city. When I say "packed," I mean people squeezed into each car like sardines in a can. Immediately, I noticed two things: a.) few, if any, Hong Kongians wear cologne or perfume, and b.) there was little to no body odor noticed, even with all the arms raised above head level while hanging onto the rails and handles in the subway cars. These are the things I pay attention to when I travel--sites, smells, tastes, sounds, and language (spoken and body).
Missing is the constant horn blowing that you hear throughout other large cities in the world, and totally absent is the sound of police sirens. There is no worry when walking down sidewalks during the day or night, even as people offer a quick glance your way because your features and stature, while not uncommon to them, are still foreign in a country that is ninety-two percent Chinese.
As with most metropolitan areas, the periodic smell of open sewers sometimes hits you like a baseball to the head, but it is brushed aside by the incredible aromas of restaurants cooking and offering their wares until the late night hours. Hong Kong's harbor teams with activity--sampan boats, ocean liners, and shipping vessels float its waters throughout the day. Gone is the smell I remembered eight years ago from the harbor, but I have not asked what has been done to correct the obvious pollution.
The former British colony is still governed by Parliamentary laws and policy, but the presence of the parental China is certainly seen and felt. Military personnel await foreign travelers in airports and in the subway system. The British influence is still felt by way of local vehicles, with their steering wheels on the right side while they drive on the left side of the road.
Another interesting nuance I picked up was the lack of interchange on city streets, subways, or in the markets. People avoided touching one another to the greatest extent possible, and rarely made eye contact with anyone around them (except me, the large quai lo).
Finally, I spent a little time in two Buddhist temples, one complete with a monastery on the property. It is tantamount, at least in my mind, to attempt some trite understanding of another culture's religion or spirituality when trying to understand them as a people. I do not know the percentage of secular peoples on the island, but I will say I personally witnessed some devout Buddhists while here. One lady in particular climbed the two hundred sixty-eight steps to the Tian Tan Buddha on Lantau Island. Every two or three steps she would drop to her knees and gesticulate in front of the large statue. Next, I watched her walk around the Buddha statue counter-clockwise three times, her eyes closed, palms together as she prayed. For me, this was a moving tribute for a religion westerners do not fully comprehend and struggle to accept.
Should you get the chance to visit Hong Kong, Kow Loon, and Lantau Island, I encourage you to take advantage of your time and take in as much of the culture as possible. The Chinese are beautiful people and I am happy to have shared a moment in time and space with them.
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