Junk parties

Hong Kong has its own partying solution to too small apartments and crowded bars - the junk party! Imagine a party where you know exactly how much you will spend. Throw in unlimited food and drinks. Figure in only hearing the music you want to hear and only partying with the people you want around. Then count on the most spectacular views of Hong Kong harbor and a light show as well. Well, that's a junk boat party!Last Saturday night I had a junk party for my birthday. Now, it was not my birthday. I actually turned 40 two months ago, but I spent that day mainly alone. Most of the people I know weren't back in Hong Kong and even the kids arrived jet-lagged at eight at night. But I have the sweetest friends! Despite the belated timing and all kind of hassle booking the junk, Catherine arranged for me to have an awesome 40th birthday party!

Twenty-four people came. The theme was 1968, of course. We had Vietnam war protesters and Viet Cong soldiers show up and lots of very short skirts. Even Andy Warhol was there - pretty amazing considering he was newly shot on the day of my birth. I agonized over my clothes, knowing that they were slightly more 1970 than 1968. Nevertheless it worked out all right, mainly because most of the party-goers weren't really up on fashion in the 60's or 70's since they weren't born.

A junk party goes from 7 until 11:30, then we were sent on our way with lots of drinks "to go." (A plus of Hong Kong is that you can walk down the street drinking.) Quite of few of my friends danced until 3, but I had to catch the 12:30 ferry home to Lamma or stay out. I decided that I better not abandon the children, and went home on time. It was a great way to turn 40!

Thanksgiving on Lamma

I like my pumpkin pies, so when I knew there'd be a potluck, I signed up to bring two. But making a pumpkin pie with no oven involves a certain level of commitment and a serious amount of travel.

I made the pie crusts on Thursday night after paddling practice and mixed the spices with the sugar. In the morning I packed up the crusts, mixing bowl, eggs, cans of pumpkin and evaporated milk, a whisk and a ladle. My commute makes it a little more complicated than putting all the things in the trunk of a car. I had to carry everything down the hill to the ferry, from the ferry to the bus and from the bus to my classroom. Then at recess I did the Fahrenheit to Celsius conversion, mixed up the first pie and put it in the microwave/convection oven in the staffroom. I was so amazed that I hadn't forgotten anything other than a can opener and the kitchen staff helped me with that.

Unfortunately once I put the pie in, I went back to teaching and forgot all about it. An hour and a half later I ran back up sure that the school's fire alarm was about to go off. But some angel had taken the pie out at just the perfect time! So at lunch I mixed up the other and stuck it in. I went back an hour or so later and someone else had taken that one out. It was slightly under-done, but still ok.So after school I taped together boxes to make a double-decker pie safe, covered them with plastic wrap, (thank goodness there are science experiment supplies in the project room) and carried them back down to the bus, to the ferry pier, home on the ferry and back up the hill home. There they waited safely in the frig until Sunday's dinner.

Heather and Matthew hosted the dinner and the other Heather cooked the turkey. Matthew wasn't the least bit tense about it.It was a tremendous success. Almost 50 people came. It was very much the antithesis of the lonely blue I felt last year at Thanksgiving. (If you want to read something depressing, look back at my posts around this time last year.) It was a wonderful community effort that created a marvelous feast. There were lots of babies and little kids running around which made it even more fun.

I love Thanksgiving and can't wait until late November because I think we'll have an American one, too. I'm only worried about hauling the turkey around to bake it. A crispy, juicy, dripping turkey is a bit unwieldy for a backpack.

The Journey is not the Destination

Whoever said the journey is the destination has never been on my trips. I got up and took the 6:20 ferry from Lamma, kids and luggage in tow on Saturday, October 4th. Then there was the MTR to the airport and waiting in the airport. We flew Kenyan Airlines on a flight to Bangkok (continuing on to Nairobi) in a 767 so old that the lights wouldn't come on in the bathroom. I also have my doubts about the seals in the plane because Granite's ears almost exploded on the way down. Then in Bangkok we took a taxi kitty-corner across town to a bus station, waited for an hour and hopped on a bus for a six hour ride. Here's a picture from the bus stop where we had supper. But even after getting off that bus, we weren't there yet.

Next morning, we got in the back of a pick-up for a two hour ride to the ferry pier. There, we waited for two hours and then took a catamaran to Koh Tao. From there it was only another short truck ride to the beach we stayed on. Here's a picture of the beach. You tell me which is better.I suppose I could write about scuba diving in 29 C water with schools of fish circling me. I suppose I could mention the snorkeling, the beach bars, the mango shakes, the green curry or the banana pancakes. I even heard the song "Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson while I was sitting tired from diving all afternoon logging my dive and having a beer!

Actually I have to include this link to the YouTube video of the pancake guy who was just up from the dive resort we hung out at. He was originally from Bangladesh by way of Myanmar to Thailand. He spoke 7 languages. He said that after the first four, it comes easy. He's more entertaining than in the video, but here you go: http://hk.youtube.com/watch?v=wGR2zJTbu7U

But if I went on much about the colour of the water or the palm trees swaying; if I talked too long about how the kids and I kept breaking into South Pacific songs; if I reveled in lying in a manicured jungle garden in a raised pagoda having a Thai massage, well... all of you who just had your own tropical holiday would be bored. And the rest of you in temperate climes would just be annoyed.

As a courtesy to you who don't get a week off in October, let me just tell you about our trip home. We left paradise at 3:30 on Saturday. First there was a 2 hour ferry ride followed by an 8 hour bus ride interrupted by one and a half hours in a truck stop for dinner. We arrived in Bangkok at 4:15 a.m., went to the airport to sleep and kill time. We flew out of there at 1:50 p.m. (on another flight to Nairobi by way of Hong Kong) and arrived in Hong Kong around five. Then we took the MTR across town, missed a ferry, waited at the ferry pier and got home at 8 p.m. Sunday after traveling for 29 hours. And they say Thailand is only a two hour flight away. I think I'm doing something wrong!

The Lamma Commute

I'm still taking a ferry to a bus every day even though I moved. We get up even earlier and stumble down the hill to the ferry pier. It's lined with the bicycles of all the people who converge each morning and evening for the commute. One of these pictures is of the weather before the typhoon. The other is after the typhoon cleared the air - I like typhoons not just for days off school.

The main difference in the commute this year is that it's an ugly ferry. Instead of comfortable airline-type seats we ride on vinyl in a dark box that smells like goats. The commute should be just as beautiful except the ferry line never cleans its windows. So there are many fewer opportunities to take pictures out of the windows. I get a shot every now and again, though.
The typhoon came on Tuesday last week. During the night it passed by, rattling the metal awning on my roof and making me nervous enough that I was glad a child joined me in bed. But nothing was damaged at our place and we got a day off school, but barely. The Hong Kong Observatory predicted it would lower the T8 flag between 6 and 7 a.m. That's the signal that closes schools and businesses. The timing of it was such that the Education Board cancelled school for the day rather than letting kids start the morning trip to school in a T8. But if the typhoon had passed one hour quicker we would have had to go to school. I had to take a kid into the doctor's, so this last picture is the remnants of the storm we got to travel through on our way to Hong Kong Island. It's hard for a camera to see the darkness of menace contrasted with the luminosity of the water stirred by storm but lit by sunlight.

Living on Lamma

Two Saturdays ago I moved into a new flat on Lamma Island. Lamma is known for its weed, its artists, its seafood and its expat hippies. I haven't encountered much of any of that so far, though I do know one cool artist who lives here.

Here are some pictures of my new place and my rooftop.

I am not yet happy with my commute. The connections are bad and the ferry is ugly and kind of stinky. If I get organized, though, I may get to take a very slow, non-air conditioned ferry straight from Aberdeen to Lamma. Last Thursday I did that for the first time. I got off at a tiny village before the main village and walked the 20 minutes home. It was very peaceful - green and overgrown. Unfortunately I have some sort of foot/ankle injury and can't enjoy the plentiful hikes and runs that are all around me yet. Inshallah soon.

But the rooftop...
The rooftop deserves its own post.