Ni hao
I just landed in Hong Kong about…well, 10 hours ago. I had to wait for J & K’s flight to come in, which was 10 glorious hours after mine.
I initially spent my time reading the 5 travel brochures I picked up at the “We Love Capitalism” center. So I took a seat, broke out my snacks and flipped through. My peaceful reading was suddenly interrupted by quite a foul-sounding belch across from me. Okay, who’s the guy who has no manners? I looked up to see… a woman! Dang, but that was a man’s belch. Like the ones I used to do in high school. Nasty.
Well, I kept on reading, but then a few seconds later – braAAckk! Dude another one! But this time it wasn’t the woman; it was her husband sitting next to her. (It had a lower pitch and was slightly more guttural.) I was thinking, what the heck is wrong with these people, when suddenly – burgghhup! The ajumma let another one out! And it sounded like some liquid was resuscitated this time.
I thought they’d stop at some point, but they just kept going at it, like they were taking turns. I started to wonder if they were somehow communicating through burping. Or that perhaps they were speaking an obscure dialect of an obscure language of a long extinct clan of which they were the only two remaining members on earth.
After I had changed venues, I noticed how bothered I was by not being able to understand the language around me. I have no clue about Chinese at all. With Korean, I have a pretty decent understanding. With Japanese, at least I can read their intonation and emotions and speculate on what they’re talking about. But with Chinese, I’m at a total loss. I don’t know jack. I found myself missing always being in a sea of Korean words, expressions, and even the grunts.
Although I was at the airport for almost half a day, it wasn’t too bad. I studied some Japanese. I learned how to write almost all the Japanese hiragana characters. But after about 7 hours, I was tired and my brain retention was declining rapidly. I started feeling like I was in a reprising role of Tom Hanks in the Terminal, so I decided to get something to eat.
Mickey D’s. I was curious about what it’s like in HK. Here’s the down low.
After dinner, I strolled around in the duty-free shops. Since I can’t understand any Chinese of any nature, it felt unbelievably satisfying and comfortable to completely ignore any sales pitch by any of the workers.
Well, I was going to do a “photo travelog” of sorts, but come on, let’s be realistic. I’ll definitely relate any funny or interesting stories later, though. As well as photos.
Pic of the Day:
I would have posted one, but I forgot my USB cable for my camera and am thus unable to upload any pics. STUPID! -_-;;;
I initially spent my time reading the 5 travel brochures I picked up at the “We Love Capitalism” center. So I took a seat, broke out my snacks and flipped through. My peaceful reading was suddenly interrupted by quite a foul-sounding belch across from me. Okay, who’s the guy who has no manners? I looked up to see… a woman! Dang, but that was a man’s belch. Like the ones I used to do in high school. Nasty.
Well, I kept on reading, but then a few seconds later – braAAckk! Dude another one! But this time it wasn’t the woman; it was her husband sitting next to her. (It had a lower pitch and was slightly more guttural.) I was thinking, what the heck is wrong with these people, when suddenly – burgghhup! The ajumma let another one out! And it sounded like some liquid was resuscitated this time.
I thought they’d stop at some point, but they just kept going at it, like they were taking turns. I started to wonder if they were somehow communicating through burping. Or that perhaps they were speaking an obscure dialect of an obscure language of a long extinct clan of which they were the only two remaining members on earth.
After I had changed venues, I noticed how bothered I was by not being able to understand the language around me. I have no clue about Chinese at all. With Korean, I have a pretty decent understanding. With Japanese, at least I can read their intonation and emotions and speculate on what they’re talking about. But with Chinese, I’m at a total loss. I don’t know jack. I found myself missing always being in a sea of Korean words, expressions, and even the grunts.
Although I was at the airport for almost half a day, it wasn’t too bad. I studied some Japanese. I learned how to write almost all the Japanese hiragana characters. But after about 7 hours, I was tired and my brain retention was declining rapidly. I started feeling like I was in a reprising role of Tom Hanks in the Terminal, so I decided to get something to eat.
Mickey D’s. I was curious about what it’s like in HK. Here’s the down low.
- Amazingly cheap: $3.10 USD!! Cheaper than Korea or the US itself!
- Instead of super size, it’s mini-size (just medium fries and drink, like the rest of Asia)
- The Big Mac was quite a bit saltier than I remember it
- I sat down next to two Korean guys just to hear Korean being spoken. (what is wrong with me?!)
- They didn’t have Bulgogi Burger, but they did have a dessert consisting of corn in a cup. That was it. Corn. In a cup.
After dinner, I strolled around in the duty-free shops. Since I can’t understand any Chinese of any nature, it felt unbelievably satisfying and comfortable to completely ignore any sales pitch by any of the workers.
Well, I was going to do a “photo travelog” of sorts, but come on, let’s be realistic. I’ll definitely relate any funny or interesting stories later, though. As well as photos.
Pic of the Day:
I would have posted one, but I forgot my USB cable for my camera and am thus unable to upload any pics. STUPID! -_-;;;
2 Comments:
Merry Christmas homo. I'm detecting some slight yellowing in the once pristine white cream-filling of your twinkie self.
that's pretty funny. i was feeling a little sour this evening but your blog made me laugh. thanks. have fun! can't wait to see pictures from your trip.
Post a Comment
<< Home