Wild Boar...And Probably Also Wild Boar

Hong Kong it literally an urban jungle - crazy urban and actual crazy jungle. It is a tropical, forest-covered mountainous island that some wacky Brits in the 1840s decided was fine location to build one of the biggest cities in the world.  HK has 100+ more skyscrapers than the next biggest city by that measure.  We live in a 30 story building about 3/4 of the way up the mountain, surrounded by other buildings just as tall, it not taller.  Yet, much of the native wildlife still exists on the Hong Kong Island as well as on the other 260+ islands that make up Hong Kong.  We live two blocks from a zoo and park I take Isla to frequently.  It is a special combination of sounds every time I push her on the swing:  the sound of children playing at the park, cars rushing by on the overpass overhead, and then various kinds of monkeys screeching in the cages nearby!  Yet, the weirdest animal sighting by far happened a couple weeks ago when a wild boar wandered out of the woods and into the traffic circle in front of our apartment complex.  This guy waltzed past some taxis and proceeded to hang in the grassy area next to the building until the security guards chased him down the road (probably just to a coffee shop or nearby apartment complex!)  

This boar sighting occurred during the time my parents and sister, Alexa, were visiting.  My parents left a few days before Alexa, and I decided it was time for a more compete Hong Kong culture immersion for her.  I took her to this teeny tiny outdoor-only restaurant at the bottom of an ally and a stairway in Sheng Wan. I'd been wanting to eat here for months, but refrained while pregnant for fear of food poisoning, which is just a part of normal life here from time to time. 

The label, "restaurant," is being generous here - we're talking one guy sweating over a huge pot of...something, two small burners that resemble a Coleman camp stove, and a few buckets of various ingredients sitting on the ground outside.  There are about five plastic shared tables, where you eat right next to locals on very flimsy plastic stools with no back.  We were handed a menu that had Chinese characters along with what I believe was a very loose, partially accurate English translation.  Lex and I looked around at what most people were eating, which seemed to be noodles in various kinds of broth, most of which looked red.  We waved a woman over to take our order who looked to be about 90 years old.  It was quickly evident that she spoke no English at all, so we pointed to the menu and said "please" a lot.  She looked very confused and yelled at us a little until the man sitting next to me offered to order for us.  The man informed her that Alexa wanted noodles and vegetables and then told her I wanted noodles with chicken sausage.  She yelled something about tomatoes back for a while, so I just nodded yes to this and then she questioned the man incessantly about the chicken sausage as if she'd never heard of this before, despite it being on the menu in English.  Our helpful translator kept telling me she didn't understand about the sausage. I pointed to it on the menu again.  She threw her hands up and yelled what appeared to be her one English word, "TOMATOES."  I just replied, "yes please" and nodded again and she walked away.  Sometimes you are just never quite sure what you are going to get!  We were handed our bowls very quickly and we were happy to see they did look pretty close to what we ordered.  The noodles and tomatoes were great.  However, the "chicken sausage" looked like the most shriveled up hot dog I've ever seen.  The woman's staring and laughter when she put down my bowl leads me to believe either (a) they don't really even serve chicken sausage and this thing was just lying in basket on the floor near the stove for the past 2 years, or (b) It's wasn't really chicken. Given what I know about Hong Kong and China, and the wild animal I'd seen a few days earlier, I'd say there's a 50-50 chance I ate either cat or wild boar.  In all likelihood, it was probably "c," all of the above - 2 year old floor cat/boar sausage!  It was weird, but I'm really glad I finally fulfilled my dream of eating at this place, and, as an added bonus, neither of us got food poisoning!  I'll probably go back to eat there again, and I'll definitely order noodles with tomatoes, but I'll likely pass on the mystery meat.

The "restaurant." Your guess is as good as mine on it's name!

Raw

Most things are astronomically expensive in Hong Kong, so my approach to finding a hair salon was to walk up and down about 10 blocks in all directions looking for salons that (A) Didn’t look too fancy - after all, I don’t color my hair (yet!) and just need a simple trim most of the time, and (B) Had some character because I like to have fun things to look at while I sit there for 45 minutes.  Of course, I also checked the price list.  

I found the perfect fit - a salon called “Raw,” along a cool, funky shopping street called Aberdeen. And “Raw” is exactly that - A tiny little black door leading to a very intimate (Intimate - the equivalent of “charming” in real estate, but everyone knows intimate and charming usually mean VERY small) room that has an urban warehouse look. You enter into a miniature front desk with 2 seats for waiting customers and then through a doorway in between the black bars that make the place resemble a jail cell.  I can’t exactly put my finer on why I love this place, but my suspicion is that it is because the salon feels like a dark, slightly dangerous, and naughty Chipotle. This, of course, makes me feel like a badass and hungry at the same time. I like this feeling.

All the Chinese hair dressers have taken up English names, much like Nate has had to select a Chinese name to use at work.  When I call to make an appointment with Andrew, I can just imagine the guy covering the phone and quietly asking in mandarin, “Hey, which one of us is Andrew again?” Then they scribble on a scrap paper. I don’t actually think they use any sort of appointment book and a computer wouldn’t fit with the decor.  

So, after entering the jail cell, a 70+ year old Chinese man who speaks about zero english waves me back and motions for me to lay on the metal and leather hair washing chair. He is the only one breaking the hair dresser dress code of cropped, fitted sweatpants and a black v-neck t-shirt.  This guy is in linen pants, dress shoes, and a cable knit sweater.  I instantly think the regular hair washer must have called in sick and one of the hair dressers’ fathers was asked to pop in and do some shampooing as a favor that day.  Knowing only a few English words may actually be more problematic than knowing none. He asks “hot?” regarding the water temperature and I assume he’s asking if it’s TOO hot.  I reply “no, not too hot” and then feel scalding water start to burn my scalp.  Apparently he must have been asking if I wanted the water to be hotter.  After several minutes of minimally successful conversing, we got to a temperature that wouldn’t leave me with third degree burns. 

The next 40 minutes are sheer bliss with Andrew. I love having my hair played with and hate making forced small talk with strangers.  Andrew asks “how short you want?” and I show him by pinching a chunk of hair at the length I want it.  I know no mandarin and Andrew has already asked all the questions he knows in English. So, I just sit, close my eyes, and enjoy the haircut and blow drying.  We don’t say a word for the next half hour. It’s glorious. If tipping was a thing here, I would tip Andrew generously. Since it’s not, I go around the corner and spend that money on egg tarts and coconut buns because the dangerous, chipotle-like atmosphere of the salon has now increased my hunger level significantly despite already having 2 breakfasts.  All in all, this whole situation makes for a very enjoyable weekday morning!  I’ve never in my life followed the recommended “hair cut every 6 weeks” rule of thumb, but I am seriously considering implementing it!  

Also, if anyone knows where I can get a pair of killer cropped, fitted sweatpants, preferably with some badass features like side zippers that serve no functional purpose, please give me a shout. I feel it’s very important that I have a full range of lazy to super chic cotton stretchy clothing and this salon has made me realize I’ve been missing a vital component in my casual wardrobe!

Taken in Central on a beautiful winter day last week

We Had a Baby! In HONG KONG!

We tried our best to spread the news via e-mail, text, and Facebook, so hopefully you have already heard that we added a little girl, Monroe Victoria, to our family on December 12th.  We've received a lot of questions about her name.  Monroe is after Monroe, Michigan, the town on Lake Erie where Nate and his extended family made many wonderful memories at his grandparent's lake house.  Victoria is a nod to our beautiful 19 months in Victoria, Australia, but is also now a double whammy of a name as we live just up from Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong, half way up Victoria Peak.  Needless to say, it just seemed right.   

Having a baby here in Hong Kong was definitely a bit of a contrast to having Isla in the United States.  Most importantly though, the medical care we received was great, and we are all doing very well 3 weeks in!  However, quite a few things were comically different.  On our private health insurance, the OB that I saw mostly has a patient panel of ex-pat women who have husbands with demanding ex-pat assignments in this country.  This became evident when I was asked when I'd like to schedule my induction.  I was surprised as I'd had a very normal pregnancy, so I asked if anything was concerning or if there were specific reasons I should be induced.  The reply I got was, "No, no, you are totally fine.  I just suggest you look at your husband's work schedule and pick what day you'd like to have the baby. Then just email me the date."  Hmmm...interesting. 

Luckily, no induction was necessary. As we were getting ready for bed on December 11th, I told Nate not to worry and that we didn't need to do anything, but just to be aware that I was starting to have a couple contractions an hour. He stared at me for a minute and then replied, "Are you sure you know what you are doing here?  I mean, your track record is crap since you didn't correctly identify labor until you couldn't walk last time."  (That's actually a fair response.)  Then he followed it up with, "Let's go to sleep and if you could just hold off labor until like 6am, that would be awesome."  I almost made it to 6am.  At 4am, I realized it was the real deal, and at 5am I woke up Nate to let him know we needed to leave for the hospital soon, but that I was going to quickly go eat everything in the kitchen.

Then, at 5:45am, I took the most painful, uncomfortable taxi ride ever on the one-lane winding road up the mountain to the hospital on the Peak.  Once at the hospital, other than actually having the baby, all services and interactions were much more like what you would expect of  staying at the Marriott instead of a hospital.  Nate was promptly greeted by staff and asked for our credit card to take a deposit. Then we were asked if we brought champagne and would we like it chilled. (I answered "yes" and "yes" to this in between contractions.)  The best part was that they actually printed a bar-coded patient label with my name and personal info on it to stick onto the champagne bottle before popping it in the fridge.  

Monroe was born just after 10am, and we were brought to our official room where I had booked us for a "2 night vaginal delivery package." I know that sounds totally disturbing, but that's what we officially booked and paid for.  (Note, there is also an option for a 3, 4, or 5-day vaginal package.)  Now, being located on top of a mountain on an island, the hospital took full advantage of its view and the room didn’t disappoint with a great balcony to get some fresh air and for a Isla to blow bubbles for pretty much 24 hours straight. The hospital staff treated you like you were in a hotel and barely even came in to see us, except for a midwife who came twice a day with a heap of drugs that I could choose from because, as she put it, "Your doctor really doesn't believe you need to experience ANY pain just because you had a baby."  Touche.  I took some ibuprofen and pocketed the rest, just in case.  That was actually completely unnecessary though as the pharmacist brought me another massive bag of drugs to take home with me upon check-out.  That was just before the billing specialists came in to settle the balance of the bill as we were packing up to go. (This type of process is actually a pipe-dream of mine as a former hospital manager!) 
And so, our vacation...I mean "hospital stay" was lovely and, as an added bonus, we got to bring home a beautiful baby.  Not too shabby.

Our first order of business upon returning home was to get Monroe a Hong Kong birth certificate.  I love the candidness of instructions in this country.  The instructions are divided into two sections with the following titles underlined and in bold:
  USE THESE INSTRUCTIONS IF YOUR CHILD IS LEGITIMATE  USE THESE INSTRUCTIONS IF YOUR CHILD IS ILLEGITIMATE
(Hong Kong and their directness and/or hilarious language translations still kill me.)  I'm happy to report that we got our daughter a Hong Kong birth certificate, plus two notarized copies in case we can never get them again once we are state-side. 

No Fly Zone

We have officially entered the three-ish month period we are referring to in our family as the “no fly zone.” Specifically, the period between me being 36 weeks pregnant and the eight or so weeks past the baby being born when we expect to have the important international immunizations completed and a passport obtained for the little guy or gal. As every flight is international from Hong Kong, (a funny thought that hadn’t occurred to me until recently) the airlines get a little anxious at check-in as soon as your belly looks big.  On our last trip, the woman checking us in looked at me and whispered, “Excuse me ma’am. I need to ask you a personal question. Are you pregnant?” I quickly made a shocked face and replied, “no” but could only keep a straight face for about 5 seconds.  She only found this moderately amusing.  It was funny though as my belly was huge already. 

So, being grounded on an island is definitely a change of pace for us!  I’d say Isla is taking it the hardest though - the kid freaking loves flying.  So, we are improvising!  Nate recently “borrowed” a Boeing 777 Cathay laminated safely card from his latest flight to Singapore  and we build an airplane nearly every morning in our living room for Isla, me or Nate, and a few select stuffed animals to board and take off in.  We rotate who is the pilot, flight attendant, and passenger.  Yesterday, Isla gave a beautiful and almost flawless safety briefing to me, ensured my seat belt was fastened, and then gently touched me on the shoulder and informed me, “Mom, we are now on our way to ‘Gapan.'  I need to know if you’d like the beef, chicken, wine or blueberries?”  I love this girl.  I figure imaginary wine is better than no wine, so I ordered a nice Shiraz and then it was Minnie Mouse's and the kangaroo’s turn to order food.  Overall, we are embracing and enjoying this nice family time in Hong Kong and I’m quite sure Isla won’t be scarred for life only pretend flying!  

It is American Thanksgiving today. We’ll be having seafood lasagna since that’s what the pilgrims and Native Americans...wait, no.... okay, my huge pregnant ass just wanted something cheesy and fatty and it has nothing to do with Thanksgiving at all, but it should be tasty!  Hong Kong doesn’t really have any form of official Thanksgiving, but this city does have a huge appetite for shopping, so there are a hilarious number of advertisements for stores having “Black Friday” for whatever random date range they choose.  It doesn’t exactly make sense, but we’ve been having a lot of fun accumulating Christmas gifts for Isla and even ordering our REAL Douglas Fir Christmas tree from the US to be delivered in two weeks' time. Given the journey by boat and other logistical challenges, this feels like a little Christmas miracle that you can purchase!  Our apartment has shockingly high ceilings so I had to talk Nate down from dipping into our daughter’s college fund to pay for the 15 foot Christmas tree.  The argument that finally got to him agree had nothing to do with money or practicality, but simply, “Babe, you know we don’t have a ladder here as it’s it Mom and Dad’s basement. We wouldn’t be able to decorate the whole thing.”  And so, a 7 foot tree has been ordered and hopefully will be handled with care all the way to our living room.  We are stoked for a magical holiday season full of pretend Black Friday sales, a new baby, and imaginary flights to Gapan! 

Wishing all our amazing family and friends a very Happy Thanksgiving a legitimate Black Friday!!  We love you.

Just a Touch of Money Laundering

It's been a crazy couple of months settling into a new country (or "Special Administrative Region," to be precise).  As of early November, the weather has turned from deathly hot and humid to something that resembles more of a normal summer, which we are very grateful for.  The local perspective on this weather shift is quite mind boggling to me though.  As I walk the streets in normal summer apparel like shorts and a tank top, many people have busted out their fluffy UGG boots and sweaters.  It's still a solid 80-85 degrees Fahrenheit at least each day though! It might just be that I'm 8 months pregnant, but I can't even look at these overdressed crazies without feeling hot and uncomfortable.  We'll see what December and January bring, but I'm thinking it might be a few years before my sweaters see the light of day.  Other transition developments include: Knowing where to go to buy yogurt for less than $4 USD per individual yogurt, finding a way to walk to Isla’s school with only about 15 stairs, which officially makes it “stroller friendly,” and learning to cook with lemongrass!  I’d say we’re pretty much nailing it. 

While ex-pat life is never exactly normal, we have definitely found our routine and figured many of the important things out.  So, I've used this bit of slight extra time on my hands to try out a new hobby of some international money laundering. I just get such a thrill out of hiding money in my savings account from fake business ventures while Isla naps!  

...Or so that's what our bank would have you believe!  When we first moved abroad, we selected a large international bank for our all primary accounts as we knew there would be some odd transfers and the need for lots of various currency cash withdrawals, and, not to call anyone out, but we are currently less than thrilled with this bank that starts with "H" and ends with "SBC!"

Sure, we’ve had inflows to our account like US rental income, the insurance claim settlement for damaged items in the move from a Hong Kong company, and health insurance claim money from an Australian obstetrician's office, to name a few. And these transactions have been coupled with daily maximum cash withdrawals in Hong Kong dollars - you know, to pay our electric and water bills at 7-Eleven, of course!  The sheer volume of odd transactions apparently hit some unacceptable threshold with the bank.  However, instead of calling us, HSBC apparently thought it best to shut down all of our accounts and restrict all access to cash last week.  Aaaaahhhh!  This isn’t the first time a bank or credit card blocked our access or suspected fraud (in fact, this is a pretty regular occurrence), but it was certainly the most severe!  Many phone calls and escalation to bank management later, this has now mostly been resolved.  It’s a tricky thing though as we’ve entered a vicious cycle that goes like this:

- We try to open a Hong Kong bank account so we can transfer money in HKD to pay our bills. Every time we try, they say there is some piece of information we haven’t demonstrated fully. We say screw it and go out for a good Thai lunch instead.

- We have to pay all our bills in HK cash without an account, so we take cash out of the ATM daily.

- The bank sees the above as suspicious and shuts down our accounts.

- We fix the issue and go back to the bank. Last time, we had a bill in my name but not in Nate’s. This time we have both, but realise Nate’s HR team has my passport for 2 weeks because I am in need of a China visa (which we need to do now because I’ll need it back by the time the baby’s born in a few weeks in order to apply for US citizenship and a passport for him/her.)

- Back to the ATM!

Okay, so maybe we are only partially nailing it.  We figure, by the time our finances, passports and visas are in order, it will probably be time to move again!

Happy belated Halloween from
Princess Elsa (and my prince!)

Black Market Electronics and a Little Feng Shui

We just hit the one month mark of living here and I'm glad to say things are going quite well...and thrilled to say there's only a few more weeks until Fall as my pregnant body is about done with heat indexes of 120 degrees!  After living abroad for a while, we've definitely gotten to a point where very little surprises us and we just go with the flow, fix what we can, pay what it takes to make things work, and with whatever disposable income is left, book flights somewhere awesome for our next vaca.  I think otherwise we'd be pretty stressed out pretty often.  So, here are a few of the less than perfect, but go-with-the-flow moments across our first month:

Moving Day

Of the six movers who arrived at our apartment, five spoke no English and one spoke about as much English as I speak of other languages. (In case you haven't witnessed this, my foreign language abilities are very minimal, mostly incorrect, and with a lot of grand hand movements to get my point across.)  So...this made a few things tricky, like trying to get them to differentiate between Isla's room and the "baby's" room. I accepted this as a lost cause after about an hour and just moved everything later.

The lead mover, using his big hand gestures, was able to make clear to me multiple times that he disapproved of how many boxes of clothes we had.  He had me come in the master bedroom while he counted multiple times and then threw his hands in the air, which mostly just made me laugh and clearly frustrated him. Since he didn't understand what I was saying anyway, every time he counted the boxes, I just started saying random things back like, "Yup, we are Americans. We need stuff!" or "Well, what was I supposed to do with all my sweaters?!" or the one that cracked myself up the most, "I don't even go to work anymore, but look at all these shoes! Could you really get rid of these shoes?"  He just stared and threw his hands up a few more times, so I nicely reminded him that the moving company gets paid by kilogram of stuff moved, so really I was doing them a favor.  I think he kind of picked up on that comment and we shared a laugh. Although I wouldn't be surprised if he urinated in my dresser drawers later on.

The highlight of the day, other than them refusing to move anything they thought was "big" (i.e. nearly all our US furniture) up the stairs, had to be the quick lesson on furniture placement I was given.  I had placed post-its on the wall where I wanted the master bed and nightstands on either side.  The lead mover motioned for me to come in and through pointing and broken English told me he would be putting these items on the opposite wall.  I asked him why as I had measured and was showing him that I thought they would fit.  He shot back while pointing, "No, no ma'am. THIS WALL!  FENG SHUI!"  And that settled it.  I'm not sure our 10 boxes of clothes fit his definition of feng shui, but he was adamant about this bed placement.  This jerk better have put my bed in the corner that brings me good fortune, good health and sleeping children!  So far, all is well so maybe he was right, after all.

Black Market Electronics

We were lucky enough to rent a place in Australia that had TVs in it and we didn't spend much time watching it, so we never bothered getting a DVD player. However, now that Isla's seen enough movies on airplanes that she understands and likes them (and since we have all our DVDs with us anyway), we decided to buy a TV and DVD player.  We figured since all these electronic items are made in Asia, they can't be more money than in the US, right?  Wrong.  They are so much more money! The electronics store here that would be like an Asian Best Buy had basic DVD players staring at like $250 US dollars.  I told Nate about a teeny, weird electronics store I found that was about the size of a closet, but sold me some universal outlet converters (OMG, the number of outlet converters in our house is insane) and suggested maybe they have other stuff.  This store has ended up being our electronics jackpot.  We got a well-priced DVD player, which Nate negotiated for, as well as our internet router. Our understanding of stores like this are that the products are technically imported illegally so you don't get the official warranty or anything, but they are the real deal (LG, Samsung, etc). What a find though! We have ended up here at least weekly, negotiating our next electronic / conversion / new voltage needs. Now, if only they sold breast pumps, I'd be set!  The only downside is that our DVD player and remote is actually all in Chinese characters, but I'm not a complex girl when it comes to DVDs. I got "play" and "stop" so all is right with the world. 

Carrying Huge Wads of Cash

According to, well, everyone, opening a Hong Kong bank account is an awful and lengthy process. So, we are trying to see how long we can get by without one.  For any major bills that are due, like our massive air conditioning bill, or water, you generally have 3 options: 1. Pay with a HK bank account (no thanks)  2. Go to a designated store and pay in cash or 3. At that same designated store, pay with your Octopus card, which is actually your mass public transit card, like a DC SmarTrip.

So, we ventured down to our nearest 7-11 store with a huge wad of cash and paid our first set of bills.  The conversion ratio of Hong Kong dollars to US dollars is 7.8, so basically imagine always carrying around 8 times the amount of cash you would normally need to pay all your bills!  I feel like a baller carrying around six $100 bills until I remember that is only $77 US dollars. "Okay, fine, I guess I'll pay my water bill AND get a pack of gum today."

Checking out Hong Kong Park

Loving the markets! Right after I took this pic, she shoved her hands into the bowl of

bean sprouts in water.  We'll keep practicing proper market etiquette.

We can hike to the Peak from our apartment, but it's one heck of a hike! 

We discovered the best strategy is taking a taxi up, and hiking down.

Very thankful Hong Kong also believes in babychinos for children.

Isla would have been devastated!

Hong Kong Week 1

Greetings from Hong Kong, where 100 degrees is the norm, there are at least 30 fruits I don't know the names of, and the number, 4, is considered bad luck.  It's been a wild week already with only a few mishaps. Here's a quick overview:

- I think I actually nailed the air shipment this time! (You may recall that with our move down under, I didn't put anything that was actually useful it in and we had to get to IKEA in a hurry.) This time, the essentials are covered and we're good to go until our sea shipment arrives next week. In fact, we're not even all sharing ONE towel! Craziness.

- We picked an apartment in a very mountainous area of the city (although it is all pretty mountainous) and after getting our apartment keys, we tried to go to a celebratory lunch. I was particularly having trouble adjusting to the heat along with jet lag.  After walking just 10 min through the winding hills, we essentially gave up and ended up eating at the Hard Rock Cafe. #lunchfail!

- Nate started work after one day here so I have been exploring all around with Isla and the number of tasty treats on the street are mind blowing. I am aiming to strike a delicate balance between, "OMG, everything looks amazing! Yes I'll get one of each of those purple-looking things!" and "Hey, remember you are pregnant, idiot. Maybe take some steps to ensure you aren't eating dog on a stick!" Life can be so tricky sometimes.

- While this city does have most items you could want, finding them is quite a challenge, even with the internet, as many stores are unmarked and housed on the 15th floor of an office building, for example.  Yesterday, my mission was to go buy an air mattress as we won't have a bed for a while longer. I found an expat forum that mostly has posts from people complaining about how impossible it is to find an air mattress in this city, but then finally I found 2 sources that stated a store called Outdoor Mart does carry them.

Isla and I found our way down to the MTR (metro) and trained out to a station near the store.  From the metro, I was then given directions from three different people who all turned out to be incorrect.  After 20 minutes or so, I finally stumbled upon a small sign that read "New City Center," which is the building it was supposed to be in.  From here, the photos tell the story best:

Creepy long deserted hallway...

Followed by a super creepy deserted elevator bank...

Then down a long hall to reach success!  A tiny store the size of an average walk in closet that sold about 20 random "outdoor" items.  I got a hand written receipt for my  air mattress purchase.