Lesley in Hong Kong

Driving the Hong Kong way

Chaos on Hong Kong roads

EXPERIECED DRIVER

I successfully passed my driving test, first time, over 25 years ago and, therefore, have been a qualified driver since that point.  Apart from my stint in the Magic Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, when I wasn't allowed to drive due to my feminine demeanor (it's true), I have been driving various vehicles on various roads since then.  I have negotiated the steep, narrow country lanes of West Yorkshire when I built up my left bicep doing scary hill starts.   I have managed snow and ice driving.  I have bumped across the desert and stopped on the motorway for camels in Bahrain where I saw enough accidents to last a life time.  I have delivered my children to parties in unknown streets and picked them up again as well as skilfully managing fastening child seats, serving Tommy tippee cups and chopped apple, singing along to child friendly music WHILE driving. 

All of this evidence means that I am a driver with experience.

GEOGRAPHY HURDLE

However, since arriving in Hong Kong I have regressed.  Even the break neck speed and reckless Arabic  driving style did not prepare me for Hong Kong roads.   My main hurdle is geography.  Even after being here a considerable amount of time, understanding the road signs seems to rely on the power of telepathy.  Although there are signs to,say,  Kwun Tong, how do you know when you've got to Kwun Tong?  There is no sign to tell you and everything looks the same and there are no spaces in-between areas.  It's all just one huge metropolis.  How can you tell if you have left Jordan and are in Prince Edward or Mong Kok?  What's the blooming difference?

Parking is prohibitively expensive and don't talk to me about tunnel fees.  Then there is the lack of understanding regarding the rules of roundabout use.

FRIENDLY WAVE IS EXPECTED

But its the complete lack of courtesy that is the most difficult to deal with.   I am programmed to queue and am hard wired to be a polite road user.  I am English after all.  So if someone in front is signalling to change lanes then it is protocol, in England anyway, to allow that person to manoeuvre in front of your car and you, as a sensible, polite and intelligent driver, to give him/her space to do that.  It is then quite normal, no expected, that a friendly wave to acknowledge this politeness is executed. 

EYES FRONT AND IGNORE

Hong Kong drivers seem blissfully unaware that other drivers need to change lanes at all and will, eyes front, continue to drive at the same speed, ignore your signal and even speed up to fill the gap so there is no chance of a safe manoeuvre causing you to drive to somewhere you don't even know and never wanted to go to in the first place.  Then they have the nerve to beep their horn!  This can also be done while queuing for tunnels.  Everyone is crawling along.  Eye contact, friendly nods or acknowledgment of the presence of other drivers can easily be made, but it never is.  No weakness must be shown.  Any attempt at lane changing at the tunnels is a serious chess move which, surprise surprise causes check mate regularly.  If no one will let anyone else in where are we all going? 

There is no courtesy on Hong Kong roads.

DOG EAT DOG

Is this dog eat dog attitude an indication of the real nature of Hong Kong people?  Perhaps their obsession with making money is the same attitude that is otherwise only exposed when they get behind the wheel of a car and their polite persona in other areas is merely a front, hiding the real cut throat 'I come first' stance?

Durham Big Meeting

Marching down Elvert, Durham

County Hotel, Durham

Big Wigs on Durham Racecourse

Durham Big Meeting  11^th July 2010

 Every second Saturday in July is Durham Miners Gala or the Big Meeting as its known.  I have been told that I’ve been before but I was little and don’t remember.  I was carried on my dad’s shoulders above the crowd, left on a wall with an ice cream for a bit, then picked up again and carried some more.  My dad’s getting on a bit now (80 in October) so not able to put me on his shoulders for as long these days, but I didn’t moan too much  and just walked.

 

COLLIERY BANNERS

There are no mines any more but the pit villages of the north east still maintain the tradition of coming together for this day.  They still have their colliery banners which are paraded through the City of Durham past the County Hotel, for the dignitaries to see, with their brass band accompanying them on the march past.

 

AN IMPORTANT DAY OUT

It’s a rousing sight and hundred of people come to Durham to watch them march.  The traffic stops and the police are in charge of guiding each colliery band and banner through the streets finishing at Durham Race Course.  Some are there for the day out with their family.  Some are there to drink beer.  Some are there to help carry the banner, an honour.  Some are there to play in the brass band.  Some are there because they are ex-miners and proud.   Some are there to support their union and some are there because they just always go. 

 

It really doesn’t matter why because it’s a grand day out.

 

POLITICAL EVENT

It’s a working mans event.  If I was going to be political about it I would have to say it’s a left wing socialist event.  The Socialist Worker and the Morning Star were on sale and the editors of those papers were on the stage.  There was also Mrs Arthur Scargill the ex-leader of the mine workers union and Ken Livingston (Red Ken to his mates) was the keynote speaker.  The words ‘brothers and sisters’, comrades and ‘suffering of the poorest in our society’ were banded around quite a lot.  It was an opportunity to criticize David Cameron’s new austerity measures and generally have a pop, unchallenged, about the new coalition government. 

 

In the meantime during these highly charged political speeches the fare ground continued to play its music, people continued to picnic on the grass and the banners and bands rested around the edges of the field.  Whatever their reason for turning up didn’t matter, they were all having a great time.

 

Here is a  poem written by my dad about the event.

 

Durham Big Meeting

By Bert Draycott  W.C.S.P.

 

Banners bands and people

Filling every street

On the second Saturday in July

When the Durham miners meet

The city traffic stops that day

Everyone goes on foot

And the pubs are open all day log

It’s true, they never shut

 

Every colliery village sends a banner and a band

To march and play in Durham streets

The sight is really grand

Just banner after banner, down

Elvet and past the jail

Banners bellowing in the breeze

Like galleons in full sail

 

When Fishburn (my banner) comes along

Your chest sticks out with pride

And you step off from the pavement

And march along beside

With the bairn sat up on your shoulders

And your work mates from the pit

While the band plays The Blaydon Races

Or one of the latest hits.

 

Hey- you’ve never seen as many shows

In all your life

No wonder every pitman goes, and takes

The bairns and wife

You can see the tattooed lady, shuggy boats

And bumper cars

Flying chairs and a boxing booth

And in there you might see stars

Then you’ll meet old friend and stand and crack

And then go on your way

And hope to see them all again

On Durham Big Meeting Day.

 

 

 

Speedos - My confession

Attractive swim wear

RULES OF THE POOL

Years ago I used to be a swimming teacher and one of the rules about entering the swimming pool, for the males, was they should wear Speedos.  It seemed very sensible and logical to me at the time.  I even had a supply of spare ones for those silly boys who forget their own and foolishly turned up for swimming lessons wearing huge impractical board shorts.  "No no no".  I would say.  "You can't move properly in the water wearing those ridiculous items.  All that material flapping around your leg gets in the way of swimming, is uncomfortable and heavy when wet".  And I sent them back to the changing rooms to put on the Speedos I very helpfully kept for such occasions.

SHOWING THIGHS

It was an international school.  The Europeans never batted an eyelid at the rule.  The Americans, well that was another matter.  They hated wearing the Speedos and deemed them underwear.  Even the youngest kindergarten kids thought of wearing Speedos for swimming in was showing your underwear to the world.  The Arab kids hated them too, I guess it was an issue about showing thighs although I never really worked it out.

LYCRA

We had to lighten up on the rule after a while and relaxed it to allowing shorts that covered the leg as long as they were tight.  That essentially meant the boys who couldn't cope with the classic Speedo swam in lycra cycling shorts.

I don't understand why it is unacceptable for men or boys, come to that, to wear Speedos in a public place.  They are much much more practical for swimming in, sunbathing in and they dry quickly. 

HUGE SHORTS

Why oh why are huge, garishly patterned extra long legged board short acceptable attire for swimming in?   They are the most ridiculous item unless, of course, you are actually surfing and then they protect your legs from getting a nasty rash.  But once out of the water should be removed so that the tops of the legs can be evenly tanned.  Otherwise tops of boys legs remain a lily sickly white all year round and that is not a good look.

HAIR REMOVAL

Us females are required to remove all traces of pubic hair so that none of it sticks out from the edge of our tiny tiny bikini bottoms and we have to constantly be on guard against movement of the bikini top in case the tiny triangle moves to one side or the other and exposes a nipple!  But men can be as hairy down below as they please and wear huge shorts to the pool.

Huge shorts do not disguise an expanding waist line or sagging pecs.  The one piece for men has not caught on.  The shorts don't hide anything apart from legs and I for one am not averse to looking at mens legs, whereas a flabby torso is not so good.

WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?

So are we talking about a fear of penis here?  Is it that the wearing of Speedos means that we can make out the outline of the penis under the lycra?  Why?  Let's stop being scared of them and stop pretending they are not there. 

AGREE WITH LESLEY

If you are a supporter of the wearing of Speedos make a banner and parade it  around with you the next time you go swimming.  I suggest I AGREE WITH LESLEY on your sign.  Take a photo and post it on my blog to show your allegiance to the small Speedo instead of the silly board shorts.

 

England 1 USA 1 World Cup 2010

WORLD CUP EXCITEMENT

I am being swept along with the build up to the World Cup.  Ah, memories of a faster heart beat and slight shortness of breath when I reinact previous England games I have watched during previous World Cup tournaments.  I can recreate the electric atmosphere in a bar filled with England fans, the camaraderie, the hilarious banter, the red and white George Cross prominent.  I get exciting and most of all I get patriotic.

SHORT MEMORY

You see for long periods of time I don't like football at all.  I am only and exclusively interested in England games once every four years.  I think it must be like having a baby.  Women have more than one baby because they can't remember the pain of labour, they forget how terrible it was and embark upon second, third and even fourth pregnancies because they get carried away with the falling in love with the baby part and obliterate the part when they were screaming for mercy and any form of pain killer available.

ENGLISH RESPONSIBILITY

I can only remember the thrill of the win.  I forget the disappointing empty feeling I am left with when they lose.  That memory must be shelved somewhere in my hard drive waiting to be deleted forever.  I can't help myself but will England to victory because it is my country.  I can't let them play unsupported, it is my responsibility as an English citizen.

2am WAKE UP CALL

So when I realized that their first match in the World Cup against USA was not on our telly and was at 2.30am I had no hesitation but to commit to viewing it in a bar somewhere in Hong Kong.  I just had to.  OK OK to be honest I was horrified at the kick off time and spent Saturday thinking about watching it or not, but it's so late, so early, so inconvenient... but in the end I decided I would go to bed, set the alarm for 2am, get up and go to Sai Kung.  It's only every four years  after all.

SO PATRIOTIC

And that is what we did.  The hard core, patriotic England supporters where in Sai Kung at 2.30am technically Sunday morning.  POETS was our bar of choice.  We were tucked in the corner with a great view of the screen and the pints of Guinness flowed.  To my surprise there were Americans in the bar too.  Oh well, live and let live!  The thrill of the first goal five minutes in resulted in much cheering and merriment.  It WAS worth getting up at such an unearthly hour.  But then the USA scored.  A plain stupid mistake by the England goalie with slippy gloves saw the score go to 1-1 and we all moaned in unison. 

HALF TIME ACTIVITY

The score remained like that until half time when I had a walk around a very quiet Sai Kung to find The Duke of York, Bacco and Cheers all full of dedicated England watchers.  Steamers was closed. I did spot one drunk at this point but she was causing no trouble, just meandering, staggering home.  I called in the Golden Arches eatery and joined a queue of blokes buying half-time snacks and talking about football.  Two wearing the obligatory football T-shirt and one wearing evening dress, white shirt, black bracers, silk stripe on the trouser.  Wow!  Such a high standard of attire for football viewing I thought.  We all had to wait far too long for our fast food,  McDonald's was not ready for a half time rush! 

DISAPPOINTMENT

Back to POETS for the second half which was uneventful and unconvincing.  That empty feeling was back.  There was no further goal and our boys showed little in the way of creativity or determination to take the lead.  I hope they read my blog and can fully understand the major effort it was to view their lack luster performance at 2.30am only to be let down.  The next game is Friday 18th June against Algeria.

Come on England!

Circuit Training - Sai Kung Tang Shiu Kin Sports Ground

Teacher's Race!

Sai Kung is a marvelous place to live.  I know I am in danger of become a Sai Kung bore but I believe it to be true.  Once you live in Sai Kung you'll never have to go anywhere else.  There is no need for fancy, expensive gym membership because there is - wait for it - the 'outside' for running in.  No need for running machines installed infront of televisions to slowly stagnate the brain because it is possible to step outside your door and just start your exercise.

OUTDOOR TRAINING

As well as the countryside there is also the excellent public facility right in the centre of the town, Sai Kung Tang Shiu Kin Sports Ground.  The track has people running all the time.  Some are potential Olympians and some are grannies flip flopping their way around, beware of them - they may overtake you. 

ninab@netvigator.com  Nina Blacklock

As an added extra bonus there is the lovely Nina Blacklock who offers outdoor circuit training sessions at the ground, Monday to Thursday every week and I strongly recommend them.

DO YOU WANT  CHALLENGE?

There are beginners and general sessions in the evenings which involve getting your heart thumping out of your chest and a copious amounts of sweat gushing from your skin.  There is a mixture of women and men and ability.  Be warned, Nina will challenge you! 

A typical class will start off with a run around the track.  Yes you heard me, all the way round one time.  I have to admit to being stunned at being asked to do such a thing the first time and really thought I would never make it. But, at my own pace I did it.

WHAT TO EXPECT

She will follow this by stretching and balance warm ups and then the fun starts.  Making good use of the sports ground we will be given exercises to do which target various parts of the body.  There will be lunges and squats, press ups, triceps dips, sprints, planks - pant pant pant - may be a rest if you're good, but no slacking at this point because you'll probably have to do it all again, then core then may be another run around the track and of course the stretch and cool down to finish.

By that time an hour will have disappeared and we'll all be begging for mercy...not really (well a bit) But it is worth it for the fantastic buzz of endorphins and with any luck those stubborn fat stores will be left at the track instead of hanging around my middle.

CONTACT NINA

If you are interested you can contact Nina Blacklock on her email for more details of times. ninab@netvigator.com

The photo is me running at my school's sports day in the dreaded teachers race - something I never would have attempted before Nina's Outdoor Sessions.   Whether this is a good or a bad thing?  The jury is still out on that one.
 

 

 

Steamers Sai Kung

NEW IMPROVED MENU

Steamers is a Sai Kung institution.  I highly recommend it.  The staff are friendly and helpful and the food is delicious.  They do a great curry as well as other gems from their, mostly, western menu.  On Sundays it is an excellent choice of venue for a roast dinner which includes Yorkshire pudding.  You get a huge pile of meat (beef, chicken or lamb) lashing of gravy and lots of veggies for under $100.  Then there is their Full English Breakfast which is everything you'd expect and includes tea and toast.  There is really more than you can eat (personal opinion obviously). 

ALFRESCO DINING

The atmosphere changes depending on the time of day.  It can be a quiet and peaceful place for breakfast or it can be full of sports fans enjoying the game and getting very vocal.  The best thing about Steamers is the private court yard outside where you can sit and enjoy that fresh Sai Kung air (everything is just peachy in Sai Kung, don't listen to the API index!) and do a spot of people watching to your hearts content.

Steamers,66 Yi Chun St, Sai Kung, tel 2792 6991.

Michael Jackson RIP 1958-2009

 

I was utterly shocked at the news of Michael Jackson's death.  It is so incredibly sad that a man with so much talent is no longer among us.  Now we have speculation about when and where the funeral will be, who will his estate be left to, does he actually have anything to leave or is he in debt.  There are so many questions about his personal doctor and then there's the children and ex-wife...will we ever get to know the true story...

My cynical side has real doubts about whether anyone really cared about Michael Jackson.  Did anyone care enough about him while he was alive to guide him on a less self destructive route?  Was there a single person in his employ or in his family who was close enough to him to take him to one side and say 'Enough already Michael'?  Was the vast fortune just too much for one person to handle and remain sane?  I don't think so.  The music industry took it's pound of flesh and much much more from Michael Jackson and then sat back to watch him implode.  Yes, he made millions and was rewarded for his work but is a life worth that?

I am really concerned that the entertainment industry in general just do not do enough for their artists.  There are too many incidences of death through drug overdoses where actors or singers have been seen to be successful, become famous and then felt the pressure of living a life in the public eye.  They crack.  They turn to drugs to help them cope. It seems accepted in those circles.  It seems normal.  If they are lucky they survive their addiction but are no doubt damaged by the experience.  If we are not reading about an inevitable divorce we are told of a new patient in The Priory.

I think it should be compulsory for all record labels to provide a psychologist for 24 hour consultation to all up-and-coming recording artists to help them cope with a) earning vast amounts of cash b) knowing what to do with it and c) convincing them that mind altering substances are NO  GOOD!

I could add a further suggestion which would involve not actually giving the artist so much cash in the first place and, therefore, reducing the cost of Cd's, concert tickets and eliminating all tacky merchandising from the planet.  I ask the question - Is pop music really worth millions and should individuals such as Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Robbie Williams or Amy Winehouse be let loose with wads of cash to squander on drugs and fast living when that money could be given to me - whoops - I mean, given to reducing third world debt and promoting world peace.

I can feel a Monty Python sketch coming on.  Money doesn't buy you happiness.

Lost in Translation

The all girl's Catholic school where I worked for three years was an EMI school which meant that all communication was in English.  They took it seriously so all meetings and assemblies, as well as lessons, were conducted in English.  I consider myself lucky to have been in such an environment as I hear many stories of Native English teachers having to sit through long and tedious meetings in Cantonese and sitting in a staffroom where no one engages them in conversation and Cantonese is spoken all around them.  Obviously most meetings are long and tedious but if you can't understand a word it makes it doubly unbearable.  The way some Head Teachers attempt to solve this problem is by appointing another member of staff to translate.  This is even more unbearable than not understanding a word.  Having someone whispering in your ear sporadically and feeling obliged to show interest is extremely tiring.

I arrived in Hong Kong in 2001 four years after the handover.  There is a general consensus that the level of English has declined since that date. In the local education system, not counting international schools, there are only 120 schools designated as English Medium of Instruction schools while the rest are Chinese Medium.  This means they use either Mandarin or more likely Cantonese to teach and the only time the students hear English spoken is during their English lesson.   There is a mythical emphasis from the Education Department of encouraging all students to become bilingual.  I feel this will not happen as the pull of the mother country, China, gets stronger and memory of the days of being part of the glorious Empire have faded fast.  The level of English is Hong Kong is low.

At the previously mentioned Catholic School all teachers were invited to attend a Catholic Rally.  My piteously weak cry of " I'm not a Catholic" was ignored so off I went and joined hundreds of other teachers employed by Catholic schools in Hong Kong to The Coliseum at Hung Hom.  It is a large arena, in fact last time I was there it was to see Robbie Williams.  The mood was very different this time.  Depressed and tired teachers all filing into the building muttering under their breath about what a waste of time this was etc etc.   The proceedings were in Cantonese but to accommodate the gwilo teachers we were ushered to the ethnic minority corner and all given electronic transmitters and earphones so that we could listen to the English translation. 

It started with some sort of presentation about watering small seeds so they would grow into strong plants.  A dreadful cliche comparing the students to seedlings and a very silly display where some people watered plastic grass and then it grew tall right there on stage in front of our eyes.  Moan moan.

At this point most of the Native English teachers switched off their translation machines and concentrated on more serious things like the crossword or snoozing.  After the initial speeches a short play began where the main character was a young and dedicated teacher, Mrs Chan, who was struggling to complete all her marking, teach her unruly students and juggle home life with the long and unreasonable hours of school.  Poor Mrs Chan was having a bad day.  All the lines were translated into English and it was a fairly predictable little scenario of tension in the staffroom, apathy in the classroom and disappointment at home. 

Miss Chan enters the staffroom complaining that her laptop isn't working properly.

Another teacher helpfully chips in and the translation comes into my ears as  "Stop complaining just because your computer is f****ed up!" 

At this point the ethnic minority corner erupted with laughter.  Whoever was doing the translating had been given free range and was gleefully adding expletives when he thought it was necessary.  He must have been oblivious to the level of swearing he was using as the word f**k kept coming up time and time again.

Miss Chan eventually gets home to her own neglected child and frustrated husband.  The husband expresses something in Cantonese to his wife and the translation was "What's up with you? Why have you got a face like a f****ed up frog!"  More belly laughs from the corner of the arena.

You have to remember this rally was attended by many deeply religious people including Priests and Nuns, all stalwarts of Catholic education in Hong Kong.  That made it doubley hilarious for me.  Just when I thought I was in for a boring afternoon it turned out to be just the opposite.

Wanted

Wanted

Dynamic, energetic, innovative teacher to join our highly successful department.

I have taken the above wording from the latest edition of the Times Educational Supplement.   Its teacher advert speak.  Such language amuses me because what they will really get is some disillusioned teacher who has a notion of getting out of their already troubled school and massive work load in an effort to find a job that will allow him or her to have a life.  A more accurate advert would be:-

Wanted

Steady, reliable teacher able to teach their subject and form a reasonable relationship with the students and staff.

That is what they really want so why can’t they just come clean and say what they mean instead of flowering it all up in an effort to get superman working for them?

I have always been one to defend teachers.  I have done it for over 20 years now.  For years I was the wife of a teacher but not a teacher so when anybody spouted the over used phrase “They get six weeks holiday a year, what are they complaining about?” I am always first to go for the throat.  I have had a number of stand-up rows with people who, in my humble opinion, just do not appreciate the importance of being a teacher of children.

Now I am a teacher, but I am a teacher who is loosing the will power to get up in the mornings and be the dynamic, energetic and innovate teacher which I professed to be such a short time ago. 

I have come to the conclusion that teachers are horribly over worked and under paid.  I know I know, teachers have been saying that for ages and the rest of us have been paying them no heed whatsoever.

It is impossible to be the dynamic, energetic and innovative teacher that I wanted to be because schools do not allow teachers to do their job.  They fraudulently place adverts saying they want to employ teachers, telling the world that they want qualified teachers to come and work with children in their school.  But they are big fibbers.  All schools say this but it is just not reality.  The truth of the matter is schools want administrative staff to shuffle paper and write documents that no one will read and also run extra curricular clubs in many and various sporting genres over and above their specified hours of work making them exhausted and stressed so the actual job they were employed to do, teach, is given second or third place of priority and ultimately the quality of that task suffers.

Multiple Choice Question

The collective noun for a group of teachers is:-

a)      a whinge

b)      a carp

c)      a meet

Answers on a postcard please.

The photograph was taken during a moment spare for drinking tea in the staffroom (honest!)