Pictures to this part of yesterday may come much later, but right now, I might as well give the anecdotes to my night before I forget.
All of the exchange students were invited by a group of local immersion group leaders from our university to meet at the University train stop (the stop at the valley of our hill) to go into town for a hotpot dinner at an outdoor gathering of sorts. Think of a sight of tourists in America. And now think about 100+ tourists all convening at a train stop, mass-boarding, and exiting without any semblance of a leader. Needless to say, we lost about 40 of them at the first train stop (we needed to get out at Sha Tin Wai, whereas many got off at Sha Tin station).
Hotpot is Asian culture's answer to fondue: a vat of boiling, aromatic broth is placed in the center of a table, and you insert, cook, and take out various raw foods to eat. And just like its French counterpart, it's as much a social gathering as it is a dinner.
Oh? And did I mention that there it also involves boiling seafood alive? Maybe I forgot.
To preface this, think of any of those Travel Channel features on Asian metropolises for a moment. If there's one constant in any of these glimpses into the culture, it's the predominance of open-air markets and the accompanying chaos of these locations. Well, we strategically had our hotpot event adjacent to one of these markets. And food was not served to us. We went into the already jam packed market to find our dishes-to-be of choice. This included, but was not limited to, any number of greens, mushrooms, tofu, cuts of pork, thinly sliced beef, chicken pieces, unidentifiable meats in Asian marinades, and... well. Shellfish. Except that these shellfish were still staring at you. Alive. So if you wanted shrimp, you would toss a few shrimp on your plate/basket/whatever you had handy, and went on your way. They were probably barely alive or frozen... What weren't were these Chinese beetle-like things... Kind of like crawfish sans claws. They were still moving around, and a few of us at the table did well to not partake. Call it being ignorant of other cultures, but that creature was 99% shell, ugly as everything, and most importantly, still responding to stimuli.
Speaking of our table, it was quite a brilliant gathering of people. Included was the girl who I sat next to on the plane over, Ainhe from Philly, and a vast diversity of others. There was a girl from Harvard, two Jews from Paris (who instead went to McDonald's, citing the pork), a guy from the Bronx, a guy from LA, a girl from St. Louis who just studied in Panama and Spain, and two girls from the SF Bay Area.
Ah. And a kid from Ohio. Not Miami, Florida. Ohio. That was the referent on my hoodie. No, it has nothing to do with that city, and yes, we came before it. I swear it's real.
It's pretty funny at this point, though I'm sure it'll get old.
The temperature dwindling into the upper 40s (about 10 C), it was a chilly night to be out in the market, but what better way to warm oneself than boiling with friends?
Once the novelty of the boiler had faded, noodles consumed to their maximums, and temperature hitting its evening low, we went off to explore this small pedestrian area.
Which meant, at first, that we stopped by a 7-Eleven. What Starbucks is to New York City, 7-Eleven is to Hong Kong. There is one at every train station, and one every block where people live. They sell everything, from cafe food to liquor to Slurpees. It's also where I finally got a SIM card for my cell phone (and hence, I no longer feel naked and disconnected). Because the store was heated, we hung out there, sharing stories and loitering, for maybe a half hour until a few felt guilty, made purchases, and we filtered out.
Walking around the market, we soon found another market. But it seemed aimed for a different segment: tables were clothed, chairs had backs, lights were hanging, and most importantly, a wind-proof tarp created pseudo-rooms for all of the diners.
"Hey look! It's the high class hotpot area!" We all laughed. Because really, it was hardly any different from its predecessor... This one, instead, laid under the train tracks, next to any number of basketball courts.
Sidebar:
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I've found the NBA to be a great conversation piece in my dorm, especially in elevators. Most of the Chinese mainlanders speak very broken English, but are quick to tell me their 5 favorite players, and why they don't like LeBron James.
In fact, one kid who I walked to the bus stop with, Martin from Beijing whose favorite team was the Lakers (and definitely made fun of my Nuggets for losing to the Clippers) talked a bit about LeBron James. He said that he didn't understand why Cleveland was so mad, that it was simply LeBron's goal to go after a championship (he said "to get ring") in the best way he could, and that Cleveland didn't do that with any of the other players who had come and gone. In fact, few did. "I don't like the Heat," he said, "but he has to do what is best for his ring". And, probability and economics might dictate here that the most success lies where the most resources are. 3 superstars? That's a lot of resources.
I thought it was very representative of the new Eastern mindset here: goal-orientation. The young people here have found a great midpoint between respect for their traditions (namely, elders) and embracing modernity by looking at things economically: efficiency and the final goal of maximum attainment for one's family should be the final goal. The sentiments from the creative works? They're important, but shouldn't be the driver of one's aspirations. Don't idolize the players and life figures like celebrities who don't find themselves succeeding; idolize those who succeed. Respect those stories of success, and use the wisdom from those stories to carry on your own aspirations. After all, it's just life. One of any of them. Live your one to its best ability, though within the confines of good traditional morals. Given the sentimentality and emotionality that Americans live through in the day-by-day (and encouragement of such activities - Kardashians, anyone?), it's a great insight to see a culture like this at work.
It's safe to say that basketball is the favorite sport here, as seen by the many public courts and scrimmage games happening. But compared to those who are studying at the same time? To those working for that extra cue for their studies? To those working another shift? It significantly outnumbers our culture. Not even close.
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From there, we decided that since it was hardly 10, we should take the train to Sha Tin and its mall for a dessert. In Hong Kong, people of our age do most of our shopping in the late hours around this time, and dessert places do very well. However, it hardly resembles the Auntie Anne's and Mrs. Field's of yore... I had some weird stuff.
Fruit and green tea are the dominant flavors. Note that I didn't say "fruit, green tea, and sugar". These desserts typically are sweet, but only as far as the natural flavors go. The tartness of the fruit, or the tanginess, or the unidentifiable uniqueness of the flavor, typically is highlighted.
We all split 3 dishes (which hopefully will have accompanying photos soon): one composed of green tea ice cream and some dark brown, gelatin-like tofu squares in some fruit sauce. Outside of the ice cream, I didn't prefer this one. Another was a composition of some Asian berries, one being the dragon eye berry, and some natural sweeteners of some sort. It was easily my favorite, as my American sweet tooth appreciated the extra spark of calories to the dish. Finally, there was again a white sweetener, but with it, a horrid-smelling pudding of durian. Here's a photo of what a durian looks like:
And not only is it an ugly looking thing (you only eat the white, gelatinous portions of it), but it smells horrid. Like sulfur or something.
So I took one bite, cautiously, the curls on my face pre-puckered.
And the first moments of it were probably something nastier than well water. It was straight up disgusting. My gut instantly transferred into intruder removal alert.
But then, alas, a sweetness occurred. It seemed to come from nothing, reminiscent of a pear and pineapple flavor. And eventually, my stressed-out taste buds could only handle two bites of it.
From there, we took taxis home.
Well, did I accomplish my hopeful goal? To an extent, yes. Malls and open markets are very definitely something that someone my age would enjoy on a typical weeknight. Maybe not with the budgets we had, but it's fair to say that we didn't stick out too horridly, despite my red hoodie (GoDaddy.com bowl champs!).
In fact, even with the different goal orientation and work-first mentality to most of the days here... I definitely had... fun.
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