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8 taboos not to break when in Japan

Photo: moshen

1. Walk on the wrong side

Even though greater Tokyo is one of the most-densely populated urban centers in the world, here, crowds are orderly. Pedestrians on wide sidewalks follow the unspoken rule of staying to the left almost as strictly as cars do. On Tokyo escalators, the rule becomes still more complicated: you need to stand on the left and walk on the right this time. Don’t you dare stand in the walking lane and walk in the standing lane, or you risk being trampled by a crowd or remorseless pedestrians.

2. Call a sexual organ by its actual name

Saying the name of genitals out loud, especially the female one, is one of the most serious Japanese no-nos. Instead, a Japanese person will imply the nether regions by saying “asoko,” which literally means “there” and is generally understood — no creepy winking necessary.

This taboo is so strong that a Japanese artist was recently arrested on obscenity charges for selling and distributing the design files to make 3D-printed models of her vulva. She was told that she was not allowed to use the word “manko” (a casual word for vagina), which brings up a point of caution: With a preponderance of female Japanese names ending in “ko” as well as other common words such as “hanko” (seal), new Japanese speakers must be careful to avoid an unfortunate slip of the tongue, such as “Have you seen manko?” That will not end well.

3. Be tactile

If you think some physical contact is a good way for people to connect, you may be considered a “hentai” (weirdo). In Japan, you are always expected to bow, especially toward those who are older or superior to you. Unlike Westerners, Japanese people do not share their germs when greeting others — no handshakes and, of course, no cheek kisses!

4. Leave a tip

Don’t even think about tipping in Japan! Tipping just creates confusion. If you leave extra money behind, no matter how much, don’t be surprised if your waiter chases you down the street to return it.

5. Blow your nose in public

Take the metro in Tokyo in winter and you will enjoy a nose-sniffling concert. Japanese people hate to blow their noses in public, or worse, see someone blow theirs. In fact, sniffling is perfectly normal in Japan, and serious snorting goes completely unnoticed. People walking around with runny noses or snorting it all back in are, unfortunately, not rare. Believe me when I say that, more than once, I fought the urge to hand out a pocket pack of Kleenex to someone sniffling and say: “Just go ahead and BLOW IT already!”

6. Pour soy sauce on white rice

Are you mad? Even if you don’t like plain white rice, don’t do that in public or else the chef/restaurant owner/your host will be deeply offended. But don’t worry, there’s a workaround: you need to pour or dip soy sauce on other things such as pickles (perfectly acceptable), eat them, and then proceed to eat white rice immediately after, savoring the light remnants of soy-sauce flavor still clinging to your tongue.

7. Cross your legs

Crossing your legs is considered very casual and improper even if you do your best to cross them tightly and stylishly. Instead, experience the “seiza,” an excruciating form of traditional Japanese sitting (on your knees), invented especially to torture foreigners. I know this to be true because Japanese people do not seem to have any problem sitting that way. Many even seem to enjoy it.

8. Eat in the street / subway

Despite the fact that it may be convenient to walk while eating, in Japan, it could be seen as if you are taking food too casually and not paying the proper respect to the people who grew/made it. Broadly speaking, you are supposed to cherish your food. Even if you are just ordering from street vendors, you must eat it right there on the spot, or take it home. Under no circumstances should you walk away while eating it. For a Japanese vendor (except for ice cream and maybe some donuts shops), it’s very hard to understand that someone may want to enjoy a piece of cake right after purchasing it; a cake can only be eaten at home. Try telling them, “Don’t put it in a box, I’m eating it immediately,” and they’ll do the exact opposite.

7 things about boat life

Photo: cwillbounds

1. Sometimes, it’s going to get gross.

Everything that comes out of you and goes into the boat, well, it’s not going to stay in the boat. Pumping out your yacht’s holding tank will be a lengthy and fetid process. It’s a task that when able to be skimped from that eternal chore list will be. When your boat’s moored, it’s probably going to be far enough away from the pumping station to be inconvenient, so anything you flush down the head will go straight into the water. When your boat buddy, or any neighbor in the bay, uses the head while you’re enjoying your morning swim, it’ll be best to stay focused on your enchanting turquoise aquarium yard instead.

2. You’re going to eat a lot of canned food.

You won’t want to think about or see, let alone eat out of, a can again. A swimmable front lawn may seem like a fair trade for a strictly canned menu, but there will be days when your diet alone will convince you cruising life sucks. Yes, it’s simple. Yes, it’s lovely. But, yes, it gets old. Thoughts of freshly picked greens and cold beer will consume your mind more than you ever thought possible. You’ll dream about catching a fish, or buying a refrigerator — but then something will break, and your funds and fishing time will go toward purchasing and installing some crucial and expensive new thing that can’t go ignored.

3. Your boat’s going to kick your ass.

Your beloved boat will generate a to-do list for you each and every day. You’ll grow tremendously tired of having to fix another broken part, mend a ripped sail, unclog the head, and investigate another strange sound. You may have to blow hundreds, even thousands, of dollars on a suddenly flooded engine. You’ll have no choice; every task will be central to your existence. It’s the price you pay — the colossal ingredient — for living the dream.

4. You’re going to receive a lot of unsolicited advice.

Whether it’s the jaded sailor, overly cautious friend, or eavesdropping neighbor — everyone will have a tale to tell about someone falling overboard, mooring lines breaking loose in the middle of the night, masts snapping halfway to destinations, horrendous medical emergencies, and even whales vaulting right onto boats. “Don’t forget to put down that swim ladder before taking a dip. Plenty of folk drown out there forgetting just that,” every single person you talk to ever will warn. They’ll be right though. Things do happen. But just like anything worth doing, there are risks involved. You can be as prepared and informed as the next sailor, but obstacles are going to find you.

Talk to the wrong people, and you may be talked out of the sailor’s life before you even begin it. Talk to the right people, and they’ll tell you about risks and how to best prepare for them but also miracles and unimaginable joys awaiting you in a life not often experienced. So find some sailors worth their salt. You can rely on what they have to say.

5. A lot of things are actually going to go wrong.

Sure, chances are you’ll safely complete that ocean crossing, and your keel won’t strain and split. You probably won’t be left stranded or capsized in deep waters. A whale probably won’t launch itself onto your deck — though I do know someone who had that happen during a trans-Atlantic voyage. Every sailor knows somebody who knows somebody who’s had something horrid happen on the water. Anything can happen while at the mercy of nature. People will suddenly fall ill. Storms will roll in. Masts will snap. Tanks will leak. Engines will die. Lightning will strike. And fires, of all things, will start. Risks are going to be everywhere, so choose wisely and prepare for the consequences. Bill Bryson nailed it when he said: “That doesn’t happen often, but — and here is the absolutely salient point — once would be enough.”

6. You’re going to regret your decision to live on a boat.

One flawless sun-drenched moment your mind might be consumed with thoughts of your life, effortlessly drifting away with a tropical breeze. But then you’ll find yourself infuriated with every decision you ever made that led you to this boat, where you have to row a quarter of a mile to shore to get another can of beans, or a single abnormally shaped bolt, exclusively designed for your boat and your boat only. You’ll regret your life. But then a pod of dolphins might rise from your infinite front yard, close enough to splash you. On a boat, your mood swoops between surrender, determination, caution, and recklessness at alarming rates. There will be difficult and trying days, but in between them you’ll sweep up moments that enrich your life in immeasurable ways. These moments will teach you about the world, about people, and about yourself. You’ll be humbled, surprised, reassured, and scared stiff beyond words. But not a moment will pass when you don’t feel tremendously alive.

7. Life after boat life is going to be weird.

Sometimes you’ll forget that, eventually, you’re probably going to leave your boat. Maybe you’ll still be living on it tomorrow, next week, or even next year, but perhaps somewhere down the line you’ll live on terra firma again. It’ll be hard to jump back into civilization and not feel cooped up or even trapped, and not become hopelessly irritable each time you step indoors. It’ll be hard to adjust your habits — especially your hygienic ones — to societal standards. Taking a shower won’t mean jumping off the boat into cool, translucent waters anymore. Nor will it include vibrantly colored fish, sea turtles, dolphins, or dodging dinghies. Water faucets and shower heads are going to leave you baffled and amazed for months. There isn’t going to be an infinite amount of stars glowing above your head at night. You’re not going to feel as terrified or astonished when thunderstorms and windstorms pass through. You’re going to miss seeing, smelling, and hearing the change in the weather and in the seasons.

You risk so much by diving into the unknown. You risk giving up everything that gives you joy in the hope you can find something greater, and you risk finding nothing at all. But that’s the beauty of it. No matter how long you decide to stay salty, you’ll always carry the inspiration, wonder, and desire boat life will instill in you.

Detroit is (still) for lovers

Image via Bart Heird

Detroit gets a lot of negative press, but despite its bad rap, the city has a lot to offer. Give it some love and it’ll love you back.
Photography Lovers

Dotted with the ruins of abandoned buildings and dilapidated houses covered in colorful graffiti, the landscape of Detroit looks good in the viewscreen.

The city’s gritty feel and faded beauty translates well to film, whether you choose to evoke nostalgia with shots of empty iconic buildings, or to document the slow decay of an industrial city in a post-industrial age with images of factories long forgotten.

Michigan Central Station is one of the city’s most recognizable monuments. It’s illegal, though not unusual, for photographers to slip inside to capture the crumbling opulence of its interior.

Art Lovers

Art in Detroit is everywhere. In fact, spurred by ridiculously low home prices (the city average was $11,533 during the worst part of the recession), artists may actually be the only people moving to Detroit right now. Both the Detroit Artists Market and the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit, housed in a converted graffiti-covered warehouse, host internationally acclaimed exhibitions of visual, performing, and multimedia arts.

The world-class Detroit Institute of Arts has one of the largest collections in the world, with works from Monet, Degas, van Gogh, Matisse, and Picasso, and a series of murals (depicting Detroit factory workers) by Diego Rivera.

Wander an open-air art installation at the Heidelberg Project, a street of abandoned houses covered in polka dots, stuffed animals, and scrap metal that resembles a twisted Wonderland, or just take in a showing at restaurants like Cass Café and The Majestic.

Music Lovers

From Motown greats like Aretha Franklin and Diana Ross (whose careers are among those commemorated at the Hitsville USA Motown Museum) to rock darlings the White Stripes, Detroit has a long tradition of fostering musical talent.

See the next Detroit Cobras or Dirtbombs — before they hit it big — at intimate clubs like the Old Miami, the Magic Stick, the Lager House, and Cadieux Café. The Detroit Electronic Music Fest, held every Memorial Day weekend, features some of the best DJs and electronic music producers in the world.

To indulge more classical tastes, check out a performance at the opera or symphony.

Booze Lovers

Detroit’s a drinking town, and no matter what you fancy you’ll find it here. Drink with the city’s elite at the bar at the stately Whitney mansion, or rub elbows with war veterans in the casual backyard of the Old Miami. Sip cocktails and dance in your club couture at Deluxe, or rock out to the jukebox at the dark, divey Bronx Bar. Or just relax with a microbrew at one of the city’s three breweries, such as Motor City, home of the Ghettoblaster Ale.

Food Lovers

An influx of immigrants from around the world means Detroit is the place to come for some of the most authentic Polish, Mexican, Greek, and Middle Eastern food this side of the Atlantic. Head to Mexican Village, Polish Village, or Greektown for their respective cuisines, or take a short drive to Dearborn for Middle Eastern.

If you’re in the mood for something a little more local, check out Union Street for American comfort food with a twist or head to newcomer Slows, which churns out Detroit’s best barbecue and a killer bourbon lemonade (just come prepared for a long wait).

And of course, no visit would be complete without tasting the ubiquitous Detroit Coney dog.

Bargain Lovers

Economic woes for residents equal rock-bottom prices for visitors. Detroit has always been cheap, but deteriorating financial conditions mean even more discounts and deals. Dollar drafts and 2-for-1 drinks at happy hour? Check. A filling and delicious meal for under $10? Check. Free museums, no-cover live music clubs, and ample free parking? Check, check, and check.

It’s easy to live large in Detroit on a small budget, and thanks to discount bus company Megabus, low rates on Amtrak, and cheap fares into Northwest’s hub, it doesn’t cost a lot to get here either.

Underdog Lovers

As the butt of countless jokes, it’s easy to kick Detroit while it’s down. But if you’re a sucker for a lost cause, you may just be charmed by the city’s unwavering community pride in the face of such depression.

The people of Detroit understand their city has problems, but many are choosing to rally their neighbors and fight for change rather than sit idly by and watch the city decay further. Detroit’s refusal to let go of the past is immediately evident, but when you look a little deeper you also see a small — but growing — ray of hope for the future.

This article was originally published on June 26, 2009.

Photo: Nomad Games, Kyrgyzstan

Photo by author.

The World Nomad Games were organized as a cross between the ‘Nomad Olympics’ and a mega-PR exercise for Kyrgyzstan. Here at the Ethno Village over 150 yurt tents were set up inside a small national park in the mountains. Three days of exhibitions and performances were meant to showcase a wide variety of Kyrgyz traditions. This man, a Salbuurun (Eagle Hunting) master, waits for the start of a procession of horseback actors in traditional dress. In the mass of the excited crowd, this man stood out because he seemed to perfectly strike a balance between tradition and modernity. Literally five seconds later another horseman completely blocked my line of sight, so I was fortunate to see this when I did!

13 DC rites of passage in your 20s

Image by Mahmoud Al-Yousif

WASHINGTON, DC is full of young, idealistic 20-somethings trying to make a difference in the country / world. Some of them are on the political track, others in nonprofits or special-interest groups, others are trying to get into government bureaucracy. All of them — except the ones with a trust fund — are moonlighting as bartenders and waitresses, and all of them are coming into constant contact with egomaniacs and sociopaths. None will make it through their stint in DC unscathed.

Here are some of the rites of passage everyone in DC will inevitably experience.

1. Developing a tolerance for working with megalomaniacs.

Yeah, he’s an asshole, and yeah, he’s the one driving you to drink, but you work for him, goddammit, and you need that letter of recommendation. Also, you tell yourself — as you sip the whiskey that you just realized you much prefer straight — this will be good experience for managing up later in your career.

2. Having that pesky idealism crushed out of you.

“Why are we even doing this?” You’ll ask a coworker at some point. The coworker will respond, “Why does anyone do anything?” and then, sensing you’re vulnerable, he’ll hit on you. Over the next few months, the loss of idealism will either destroy you and send you back to your hometown, or you’ll develop a thick shell of cynicism, learn how to play the game hard and mean, and drown your sorrows in incipient alcoholism.

3. Learning how little people give a shit about your semester abroad / volunteering / college pedigree.

“Wait, everyone else has been abroad? And everyone can see through my largely bullshitted resume? Then what was the point of college?” It’ll dawn on you that while you were imagining that college was preparing you for the “real world,” it was actually simply staving off your adulthood for a few years while allowing your potential future employers to use diplomas as an excuse to cull the pool of resumes they have to hire from.

4. Getting ALL the debt!

“Why would we pay our highly-educated, highly-in-debt young public servants a living wage? Make them suffer to prove their love to the public sector! Yes, take out another credit card! Spend 98% of your salary on housing and drinks! Suffer for us! Suffer for our love!”

— The People of the United States of America

5. Making friends with someone because of their boss.

Sure, the guy you’re talking to is wearing a pink golf shirt and wants to “pound a case of Natty’s” with you this weekend, but holy shit, his boss could really help you get the job you want.

6. Masturbating to House of Cards.

It’s nothing like your life, but it would be so…fucking…good…if it was.

7. Discovering the real point of all those meetings and seminars is the free food.

Your boss: “Hey, want to go to a seminar on the politics of housing in Tuscaloosa?”

You: “Will they have lunch?”

Your boss: “Yep. It’s gonna be catered by that falafel place.”

You: “Well, I can’t afford to miss out on free calories.

8. Learning how to build a calendar, but mostly around happy hours.

You: “Well, the Argonaut has Science Night on Tuesday, but then I’d have to take an Uber…we could also go up to Adams Morgan and watch some music at Madam’s Organ, but then we’d be surrounded by bros… Maybe we could head to Gallery Place and try some new beers at RFDs?”

Friend: “What about Georgetown?”

You: “Fuck Georgetown.”

9. Tiring of international symbols of freedom, democracy, and power.

Oh look, yay, there’s the Washington Monument! There’s the Capitol Building! You totally can’t see those from practically everywhere in the city! Definitely, tourists! Stand in the crosswalk and take a picture of one of the world’s most photographed buildings while blocking my car! Jesus, this is what I get for driving past the Mall.

10. Dealing with people back home saying you work for liars and crooks.

Uncle: “Look, I’m just saying, I know you’re doing good things in DC, but all of the people in charge there are crooks.”

You: “I mean, there some bad people, but doesn’t the fact that we all hate the group of people we elected to represent us say more about us than it does about the people we elected?”

Uncle: [Brief pause] “I just want to know how we elected a Kenyan Muslim Socialist.”

You: “I’m gonna go see if there’s any mulled wine left.”

11. Discovering your incompetent nemesis with the well-connected uncle is going to have a much more successful career than you are.

You’ll wonder, for a moment, how he could have gotten the promotion over you, but then you’ll see the picture of his Uncle Biden on his desk, and you’ll cry yourself to sleep that night.

12. Trying to befriend your incompetent nemesis.

“Haha! You’re right, friend! Date rape is hilarious! Say, any chance I could drop by your uncle’s barbecue next week?”

13. Making enemies.

You won’t know you’ve made them. But you’ll slight them in some tiny, unintentional way, and they will hate you forever. Long after you’ve left DC and returned home to raise a family, they will be plotting your downfall deep within the halls of power. Waiting. Waiting for the right moment.

Signs your gf is from Zimbabwe

Photo: Eddie Penland

1. Zambuk is her solution to any medical issue.

Zambuk is a fix-it-all herbal ointment that markets itself as The Real Makoya! Have you got a splinter from ice-skating on the floorboards in your socks? Zambuk it. Have you burnt yourself making sadza nenyama? Zambuk it. Strained a muscle while changing a flat tyre? Zambuk it.

Not only does Zambuk really work, but it’s part of a wider no-nonsense approach to life that comes from having to get by when you’re several hundred kilometres from the nearest anything.

2. She enjoys a good power cut.

While first-world dependability might seem kind of cool at first, it gets stifling. Nothing unexpected happens…Ever.

So when you’re sitting eating dinner one night and a power cut finally hits, she’ll dash out into the street to make sure the whole neighbourhood’s in darkness and it’s not just your trip switch. She’ll whip out the candles and cross her fingers that this one will last at least an hour.

You see, not only do power cuts hark back to childhood nights of awe-inspiring lightning and watching moths burn their wings in candles, but more recently the general mismanagement of Zimbabwe has led to chronic load shedding, so she’s a total pro at living without the internet for a while.

3. You don’t share the same notion of space.

She doesn’t come from an overpopulated island or a country the size of the Kruger National Park. She comes from a place with SPACE. Zimbabwe’s amongst the least densely populated countries in the world. Also, her idea of a capital city is probably your version of a fairly rundown town.

It’s no wonder she goes on about people having a lack of kinesphere when a stranger sits next to you on a city bench and she makes you walk miles to find the most deserted stretch of beach.

That said, she’s probably way more comfortable than you on overcrowded public transport.

4. She hyperventilates about any Zimbabwe-related event and takes you to every one.

Chances are you met your lovely Zimbabwean girlfriend because she’s now a part of Zimbabwe’s massive diaspora. As someone who’s been separated from her country less out of choice than necessity, she’s been driven by homesickness to develop a highly sensitive Zim-dar.

Her desperate need to touch base with home will be even more acute if you’re in a diaspora-poor area such as mainland Europe. She will take you to Mokoomba shows, Zimfest, and The Two Gentlemen of Verona performed in Shona. Be warned she may even be capable of crossing borders just to listen to Petina Gappah read from her new collection of short stories.

5. She laughs in the face of your inflation rates.

So there’s a global economic downturn, what’s the big deal? Most countries’ economic woes pale in the face of Zimbabwe’s infamous hyperinflation. In mid-November 2008 inflation in Zimbabwe went up by 79.6 billion percent. In 2009, the governor of Zimbabwe’s Reserve Bank, Gideon Gono, had the dubious honour of being awarded the Ig Nobel prize in mathematics “for giving people a simple, everyday way to cope with a wide range of numbers — from very small to very big — by having his bank print banknotes with denominations ranging from one cent ($.01) to one-hundred-trillion dollars ($100,000,000,000,000).” The situation got so bad Zimbabwe abandoned its currency in 2009. Currently people use a mixture of South African rand and US dollars to get by.

Your girlfriend’s probably already shown you her collection of incredibly high denominations. They’re worth more today as collector’s items than they were when the currency still existed! In fact, if she ever takes you to Zim for a holiday you’ll probably be able to pick up all kinds of cool craftwork made out of the old bills.

6. By her side, you bear witness to limitless ignorance and bigotry.

Part of being in a relationship is sharing in each other’s hardships, and soon enough you’ll get as pissed off as your girlfriend does when people ask her questions like, “Do you have the sky in Africa?”

There will be people who ask her where she’s from and then laugh because they think she’s just invented a country to take the piss. There will be those who go through silent inner turmoil at the thought that one can be both white and Zimbabwean. “No, but where are you really from?”

There will be unwelcome comments made in confidence about how “we always knew the country would go to the dogs once they got into power.”

There will be patronising comments about how her accent “doesn’t sound black at all.” Worse still, she might be asked how much she charges for a night.

And you can be sure most people don’t even know there are Zimbabweans of Indian descent.

Your only solace will be surfing Africa is a country and watching Trevor Noah DVDs together.

7. Winter is her least favourite time of the year.

Winter in Zimbabwe isn’t like winter in the Northern Hemisphere. First of all, it’s the driest time of the year. Most Zimbabweans’ idea of a coat is a lightweight jacket worn despite the temperature rather than because of it. Introducing your girlfriend to snow for the first time will be like becoming kids again, but things will probably go downhill from there.

She’ll suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. Her feet won’t fare well in closed shoes for extended periods of time. She may be known to stand in the street and cry because it’s too damn cold. Her mind will boggle at the thought that any kind of civilisation could have developed under such conditions.

It’s a rare Zimbabwean that takes to skiing.

8. She’s your hero.

By and large, her experience of flora and fauna is way more hardcore than yours. From having a finger-long acacia thorn in her foot, to cobras in the bathtub, to watching the family chickens get slain by a serval cat, she’s seen some hectic stuff.

So, no worries, she’ll take care of that daddy longlegs above your bed.

9. She knows all your pop-culture references, but you don’t know any of hers.

Post-independence Zimbabwe had one TV channel — ZBC TV — and even though it was a couple of years behind the rest of the world, she still got to watch most of the stuff you did. In the ’90s she huddled around her tiny TV set to watch all the crusty ’80s cartoons like Voltron and Jem and the Holograms. Thanks to Zimbabwe’s socialist ties with the East, she even got to watch obscure Christian Japanese cartoons like The Flying House.

Suffice to say you’ve probably noticed your Zimbabwean girlfriend can sing along to your favourite songs, gets all of your references to Friends, and knew exactly what Jesse Pinkman meant by, “Gatorade me, bitch!”

But can you sing the jingle for Ngwerewere sadza? Do you remember that time when Dorcas Chibanda was reading the evening news and the map of Zimbabwe behind her fell? Would you know how to respond to someone if they said, “Howzit exay! Eish bru, I can’t wait to hit Shoko with you and the ouens! D’you wanna come over to mine to graze something first?”

I’m guessing the answer is no.

What I miss about Hong Kong

Photo: Maxim Melnikov

1. Working out on Lan Kwai Fong

After blowing my weekly food budget on the wrong horse at Happy Valley, my Saturday nights were spent drowning sorrows at Lan Kwai Fong. Fueled by several giant novelty syringe shots, I always went to find somewhere to dance. But in Hong Kong, the street corners are the real dance floors and there is no room for wallflowers. Beyoncé blared out, and I danced with the local kids — my own version of an aerobics class. Vodka jelly and traveller’s inhibition allowed me to learn the moves quickly, and make my new friends for the night. The local gym class could never compare.

2. That spectacular skyline

As far as skylines go, some say Manhattan, others London, but for me Hong Kong wins hands down. When I stood on Kowloon, I felt like I was appreciating a painting in a gallery — eyes illuminated by flashing lights and lasers that could make an American theme park green with envy. I would sip red wine at the Ozone bar in the ICC with its vertigo-inducing view over the harbour. I’d go to Bubba Gumps’ for cocktails, so I could look back toward the CBD from the Peak.

3. Cable car rides

I remember hanging, perched precariously in midair over the churning waves below. All the garish thrills of Ocean Park behind me and an endless stretch of water ahead. With my focus on the horizon, I took in the stunning sea vistas and felt a world away from the city. No other mode of transportation has ever been as thrilling.

More about HK 14 ways to understand people from Hong Kong


4. Discovering an alternative cure

When I had a raging headache, I used to pop an ibuprofen. But then I passed through a maze of local Hong Kong chemists and gazed in the window at shelves stacked high with alternatives — wheels of dried lizards, jars of assorted herbs, and the bustle of seemingly happy customers inside.

5. All of the tea

I’ll miss that sound of china cups on saucers, happy chatter, and soft music. The traditional ceremony of each fresh pot and the multitude of accessories that accompanies it made something so simple into an adventure all of its own — with not a tea bag in sight. I brought some home to combat the withdrawals.

6. The food

The first time I watched someone order and consume a dish named gooch, I discovered that some Hong Kong cuisine is not for the faint-hearted. But still, I queued for meat sticks at Mongkok, I chowed down at the world’s cheapest Michelin-star restaurant, and I pulled apart Mantis Shrimp at the Temple Street night market. I knew I’d miss it all when I went home.

7. Wednesdays being the new Fridays

In Hong Kong, I never stared at the walls on a Wednesday night. Without fail, I could be found at Happy Valley for the world famous races. Surrounded by an exciting mix of locals, expats, and travellers, jugs of beer flowed and my pockets rapidly emptied as I backed the wrong horses.

8. The smooth subway ride

Cheap, fast, efficient, and air conditioned — the London Underground of my home could learn a few things.

9. Different worlds, everywhere and so close

In Hong Kong, the incredible contrasts of the city are all within a quick reach of each other. From the bright neon lights of downtown or Kowloon to the beaches of Stanley. From the hustle and bustle of Temple street market to the serenity of the Po Lin or Chi Lin sanctuaries. From the crowds of Ocean Park to the rambling hills of Lamma Island. Each day was so remarkably different.

10. A spender’s paradise

New gadgets, some stylish crockery, interesting chopsticks, a thousand and one jade charms — my bag was always heavy, my house kitted out, and my good luck sorted for life.

11. Accommodation

I never expected to have nostalgia for rooms where I could literally touch one wall with my fingers and the opposite with my toes, where I could find a stranger’s flip flop under my bed or electrocute myself in the shower. However, once you’ve negotiated your way through a maze of food stalls, money exchanges, and questionable traders that is Chung King Mansions, going to sleep anywhere else seems a tad dull.

12. The people

The grinning fishmonger in Mongkok, the guy who shared his betting tips with me in Happy Valley, the lady who asked me to pose for selfies in Stanley — the warm welcome and interest I received from the people of Hong Kong will always stay with me.

10 things to do in Amsterdam

Photo: Darcie Tanner

CONTRARY TO PULP Fiction lore, there’s more to Amsterdam than hash bars.

Coffee shops are the shit for many an Amsterdam virgin, yet locals view them as tourist traps lacking in “gezelligheid,” or coziness, the cornerstone of Dutch culture. Smoking yourself into a coma at the Bulldog is just fine, but you’re going to miss out.

Follow these ten tips and you’ll do Amsterdam like a local.

1. Immerse yourself in art

From Spui take tram 2 or 5 to Museumplein, where the Van Gogh and Rijksmuseum keep you occupied for hours.

View Van Gogh’s life through art, from the Potato Eaters up through the last two months of his life in France.

Holland’s Golden Age is the highlight of the Rijksmuseum. Don’t miss Vermeer’s Milkmaid.

2. Day trip it

For an excursion, the 15-minute train ride to Haarlem is worth the trip.

Browse fashionable boutiques, visit the Gothic St. Bavo cathedral, and walk to the Frans Hals art museum.

For eats, kick back at the spacious Café Brinkman on the square, and to top off the day, have drinks at Café 1900 (Barteljorisstraat 10) on the way back to the train station.

3. Drink up

With more than 1200 intriguing pubs to crawl you’ll have more than your fill.

Start at the Heineken brewery (Stadshouderkade 78) to see how famous beer is produced. Check out Café Belgique to taste smooth Belgian brews like La Chouffe.

Other standouts: gallery/bar Schuim (Spuistraat 189), Gollem, and In De Wildeman.

4. Night bike it

Amsterdam is most romantic at night, when the city is aglow from lit up bridges and canals.

Start at Leidseplein and bike down Kerkstraat to the Amstel River, where you’ll find the Skinny Bridge in all its glory.

Cut across Waterlooplein to Jodenbreestraat, which takes you into Nieuwmarkt. Pay a visit to the Waag, a pub/restaurant that once formed the city wall, or brown bar Café ‘t Loosje (Nieuwmarkt 32-34).

5. Club it

For pre-partying, head to Lux (Marnixstraat 403), Bitterzoet (Spuistraat 2), or Seymour Likely (Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 250) for live DJs.

Join the dance crowd at Mazzo (Rozengracht 114), Club More (Rozengracht 133), and Paradiso (Weteringschans 6-8). For a laid-back vibe, check out Café Alto (Korte Leidsedwarsstraat 115) for local jazz acts.

6. Shop for treasures

Walk the famous 9 streets to pick up cutting-edge fashion and eclectic wares.

Don’t miss Lady Day, which sells vintage and secondhand European fashion for a steal. Browse for a designer fragrance like Creed at Skins Cosmetics, investigate the Paul Frank Store, and get pampered at Spoiled, where you’ll be custom matched to a designer pair of jeans.

7. Do it like the Dutch

Nothing says typically Dutch better than a hunk of Gouda stuffed in a fresh bread roll.

Savor this ritual by picking up a sandwich at Broodje van Kootje (Spui 28). Grab a newspaper at the Athenaeum bookstore across the way, and plunk yourself down on a bench in the square.

For another Dutch favorite, visit the Pannekoekenhuis, a tiny upstairs restaurant on the second floor of a narrow canal house. Dive into big pancakes, served sweet or savory.

8. Indulge, Indonesian style

A former colony of the Netherlands, Indonesia now occupies Amsterdam, in terms of cuisine.

The rice table (a smorgasbord of dishes) is the name of the game but you can opt for the Nasi Goreng (fried rice) at Sie Joe.

For something more upscale, consider Tempo Doloe, on the boutique-lined street, Utrechtsestraat or Puri Mas, located in the entertainment district of Leidseplein.

9. While the day away in a café

At Café Zeezicht (Hoofdweg 456), people watch on the outdoor terrace, sipping a Dutch style latte, and nibbling on the best apple tart in town. Brown cafes, named for their wooden interiors, are good for mingling with the locals.

Cafes not to miss: De Balie, Café De Tuin (Tweede Tuindwarsstraat 13), and Café ‘t Smalle (Egelantiersgracht 12).

10. Walk it

Start at the eastern end of the Albert Cuyp street market in the ethnically diverse neighborhood De Pijp.

Peruse Dutch treats like fish, cheese, and chocolate among 300 stalls. Take a right on Ferdinand Bolstraat, then a left on Stadshouderkade.

Take a right at Spiegelgracht for a stroll in the antique district. Turn left onto Herengracht to see splendid 17th century canal houses. Make a right at Leidsestraat and go up to Singel.

Hit the Singel lunch Café (Singel 404) for homemade soups and baguette sandwiches.

This article was originally published on June 11th, 2008.

What to try in Canada in your 20s

Photo: dews cult

1. Driving a crappy car from St. John’s to Vancouver Island

Do it now, while you’re still okay with occasionally having to sleep in your back seat or taking a piss in the bushes. Plus you’ll get to see some sick parts of Canada most people never think to explore, like Northern Ontario. It’s a big wild land out there, my friends. Just don’t forget to fill up on gas, like my friend and I did when leaving Sault Ste Marie. We had to run on fumes for about a hundred kilometres with no gas station in sight.

2. Montreal

Montreal is hands down the best party city in Canada. My favourite is the Tam-Tams drum circle every Sunday summer afternoon in Parc du Mont-Royal. You can take some drinks and food and settle in on the grass to watch hippies beating drums or burn-outs dancing near the techno tent. The cops simply don’t care. Or pack a picnic with a bottle of wine and head to Parc Jean-Drapeau for some live DJ entertainment and spend the day dancing under the city skyline. In the winter: Montreal en Lumiere DJ festival. It’s impossible to be cold when you’re crammed into so many sexy bodies. Montreal also hosts Canada’s largest annual music festival on Parc Jean-Drapeau.

3. The Long Range Traverse in Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland

The Long Range Traverse is one of the few remaining hikes in Canada that requires passing a compass test before hitting the trail. When you want to prove to the world you’re not one of those 20-somethings who relies on technology and Google maps to get everywhere (full disclosure: I’m one of those people), completing this trail is like a victory. Plus you’ll get a boat ride through the Western Brook Pond Fjord, and you’ll hike the lip of the fjord itself.

4. Yukon-level cold (or any territory)

I love when people complain about the winter temperatures in Toronto, or St. John’s, or Vancouver (full disclosure: I’m one of those people). But you know that big-ass land of ice above the Canadian provinces? Yeah, that’s part of our country too. If you want insight into the North and what it’s REALLY like living in some brutal temperatures, you have to prove yourself worthy in the north. My suggestion: Start in the Yukon. They’ve got Mount Logan.

5. Calgary Stampede

The “greatest outdoor show on earth” is cause for a massive celebration in Calgary every July, and the whole city joins in. Even your neighborhood Tim Horton’s server wears a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat. I’ve never seen a whole city in such upheaval before; my walks home were usually through vomit-splattered sidewalks. It was the best. But there’s no way to sugarcoat it: Calgary is an oil town and the Stampede is expensive as hell. I once spent $100 to skip the 500-person lineup into the Cowboys tent. I’m not proud of myself. I did get a ride home later in the evening from a cowboy in a black limo, though.

6. BC bud

Unless you don’t want to feel like a petrified sloth.

7. VIA Rail

Not gonna lie, the VIA Rail system in Canada isn’t cheap, nor is it efficient. It’s a damned good exercise in patience, though. And you’ll get to see some parts of the country you won’t ever see from the highway. It’s not a quick trip, oh no. But there’s a dome car, and sometimes you’ll find yourself there with a 360-degree view of the countryside, making new friends with the musicians putting on a free show for the passengers. Ever been drunk on a plane? Bring your Snuggie.

8. Sleeping under the prairie stars in Prince Albert National Park

Canada’s biggest myth is that the prairies are boring. One of my absolute favourite travel memories is an overnight horseback-riding trip in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan. While the older folks settled into a wigwam, I camped next to the fire, under the stars, with fireflies dancing in the moonlight. I awoke to wolves circling the camp. Cowboys do NOT get the recognition they deserve for how badass they are. You’ll learn a little about bush culture, including not wearing leggings instead of jeans because you’ll end up providing a veritable feast for the mosquitos. I emerged with 60 bites.

9. Club-hopping on George Street, St. John’s

This little street in Newfoundland’s capital city of St. John’s has more clubs and pubs per capita than any other city in North America. For such a tiny town, the nightlife here is an ecstatic blend of old and young, artsy and trendy, shy and outgoing. In other words, anything goes. Tell someone you’re from outside Newfoundland, and you’ll get adopted into a social circle. Tell someone you’re from outside the country, and you’ll be offered a meal, a place to sleep, and somebody’s daughter’s / son’s hand in marriage. “You’re not from around here? GET THIS MAN A SHOT!” Come during George Street Fest, and get Screeched-In at Christian’s Pub. You’ll kiss a cod, repeat a spiel about Newfoundland language, drink some Screech rum, and then you’ll be a honorary Newfoundlander.

10. The Powder Highway

Skiing / snowboarding in BC is next level on every level.

11. Craven Country Jamboree in Saskatchewan

The Craven Country Jamboree is a different level of country. Sure, the bands are big. BUT the real fun happens on the campgrounds, where you’ll find coolers of “Saskatchewan Champagne” (canned Pilsner), tailgate parties, and that sweet scent of leather and horse shit permeating the air like a tangy prairie perfume. Go, be one. Make out with a cowboy.

12. Canada Day in Ottawa

Ottawa lets go of its uptight iron-pressed-shirt ways for one day only on Canada Day, July 1st. A massive party is hosted on Parliament Hill instead. Dress up in red and white, carry some flags, and hit the concert. Once that’s over, you’ll find everyone imbibing at Byward Market as the party continues.

13. Houseboat party on Shuswap Lake, British Columbia

In the Okanagan, you can rent a houseboat with all your mates and hit the Shuswap Lake. Load up on beers and spend a few days chugging around the area. Most of the boats come with water slides. You read that right.

14. An NHL game in person

The spirit inside a hockey arena is palpable — the noise is a roar, and the speed is intense. Everyone clutches their cold beer in white cups like it’s their only lifeline, and, goddamn, does it ever feel good to be caught up in the buzz.

15. Alexander Keith’s birthday in Halifax

Alexander Keith was the most popular mayor to ever grace Halifax, and he just so happens to be the creator of the province’s most popular beer. Never mind the guy’s been dead for a long time — his birthday’s still celebrated with gusto on the waterfront. I mean, there’s a giant birthday cake, and everyone gets to sign a massive birthday card. People even show up at his grave to leave a beer cap on the headstone. It’s a tradition. If you’re in Halifax, you can’t NOT attend. It was by far one of the strangest celebrations I’ve ever witnessed, but I think Mr. Keith would’ve been okay with it.

Have you had REAL Cantonese food?

Photo: Rick Chung

1. You’re too cool for sweet and sour.

Convinced that neon-red takeout gloop is an American invention, you opt for trendy Sichuanese instead. We’re pissed by the bastardized versions, too, but don’t ditch sweet and sour just yet.

Real Cantonese gu lou yuk is 200-years old, and every family has a recipe. Bone-in pork soft-ribs coated in corn starch is double fried to a tooth-shattering crunch. Vinegar, Worcester sauce, and ketchup (also, not American), plus fresh pineapple and peppers tossed in a searing wok is the real sweet-and-sour experience. Secret ingredient? Haw flakes for a fruity tang and scarlet hue (only amateurs resort to food colouring).

For all you haters, sweet and sour is legit Canto comfort food.

2. You think “soy sauce western” is some kind of obscure film genre.

Served in our equivalent of the American diner (cha chaan teng), soy sauce western is the love child of British high-tea and Cantonese noodle houses. Read your paper while gruff waiters toss you fusion-fare classics like scrambled egg-and-beef sandwiches, Doll-brand instant noodles and satay beef, macaroni noodle soup and ham, rib-sticking HK French toast, bo lo bao, dan taat, and inspired beverages like yuanyang (½ coffee, ½ tea — don’t knock it before you’ve tried it), hot coke and lemon (sore-throat remedy), and our world-famous milk tea. Expect Canto-drama blaring in the background while the counter lady tallies your bill with a death stare — who doesn’t love a dash of masochism with their food?

3. You think we all eat adorable PETA mascots.

There will always be those who think that shark fin boosts social cred or tiger bones increase penile strength and shagging prowess, but they’re an outdated minority. The foods every expat misses are simple — water eggs and chives, stewed beef brisket, steamed spare ribs, blanched gai lan and oyster sauce, water spinach with fermented tofu, or steamed-ground pork with salted egg. You’ll be hard pressed to find these homemade classics at any restaurant. Relentless bribery may just convince your Cantonese friend to take you home for dinner.

4. You don’t give HK French toast the respect it deserves.

Neither French nor even really toast, this artery-clogging, bread-based stroke of genius is so over the top it’s like your loud cougar aunt in blue eyeshadow and sequins. Creamy peanut butter slathered between two thick-ass slices of white, crust-free bread, deep fried, and topped with butter, malt syrup, and condensed milk served on orange plastic plates. It’s a food group in it’s own right and Paula Deen ain’t got nothing on it.

5. You insist on milkless tea.

HKers don’t exist in some kung fu-verse where grandpas sip oolong, dishing out zen riddles. Si mut nai chaa (“pantyhose milk-tea” — no joke) is the unofficial drink of hong Kong. Start with black tea — exact blends are trade secrets. Pour through a fine-meshed strainer resembling stockings and serve with Black and White evaporated milk. The result is a terracotta-coloured, silky beverage aeons ahead of the British stuff. Best taken at 3:15pm when HK migrates en masse to cha chaan tengs for their afternoon pick-me-up.

6. You expect your food to be served squealing.

HK’s point-n’-cook joints (live fish caught, killed, and plated in 30 minutes) are notorious. While we do value freshness, we have a vast repertoire of preserved/dried flora and fauna that gives our food that umami uppercut to the tastebuds. From jinhua ham that rivals prosciutto, fermented tofu stronger than Roquefort to century eggs (that aren’t really 100 years old), our preserved goodies cost more than their fresh cousins. One dish — fat choy ho si — uses ONLY dried ingredients. A visually arresting dish of black dried shitake mushrooms, black dried oysters, and black dried hair moss (Gobi desert dune vegetable) is braised in oyster sauce until tender — a Chinese New Year staple.

7. You dismiss congee as overcooked rice porridge.

Congee satisfies all criteria for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It’s our version of chicken soup, prescribed for any ailment and the ultimate death-row meal, where a cup of rice turns into a meal that feeds ten. Dare call it “just rice porridge” and you’ll be laughed out of town. The best vendors cook rice overnight in industrial-sized vats adding meat broth and dried beancurd sticks. When the grains reach the exploded flower stage (bao fa), congee zenith has been achieved — a sublime, creamy, melt-in-your-mouth bowl of heaven. Classic pairings are century egg and salt pork, pigs blood, sampan-style, or hand-chopped beef and lettuce. Eat with yau zha gwai, fried-fish skins, luo baak go, and a side of hot, savoury soy milk.

8. You think dim sum is an etiquette-laden affair.

Apart from some chopstick-wrangling and tea-pouring rules, it’s a free-for-all. Dim sum ladies push carts of bamboo steamers with neon-skinned siu mai, behemoth lotus-leaf sticky rice, cha siu bao, or the poetic euphemism, phoenix claws (deep-fried chickens feet braised in sweet black bean sauce). Riots ensue when fresh har gow (the king of dim sum) is spotted and diners hone in like drones for the juiciest, plumpest portions. Leave immediately if the former scene does not occur, because the strength of a ‘har gow rush’ is the measure of a restaurant’s quality.

Warning: Never attempt this solo — there are over 200 varieties of dim sum — grab a crowd and dig in.

9. You’ve never heard of Cantonese barbecue.

Technically roasted in a vertical cylindrical oven, Cantonese barbecue (siu mei) is so good you’d sell your first-born for a taste. Laquered duck, five-spice flavoured goose, honey-drenched char siu, and five-layered crispy siu yuk pork belly sauced and served over white rice is practically a religious experience.

10. You underestimate the street cred of curried fish balls on a stick.

Our equivalent of the New York hot dog, 37.5 million curried fish balls are eaten in HK everyday. At only HK$9 for a seven-ball skewer, delicious and slightly nasty in that mystery-meat kinda way (they are at least 20% fish meat) — they’re quintessential street-food royalty. Since the 1950s, they’ve sated our cravings during school breaks, before catching the MTR, or after a karaoke and San Mig binge. The spiciest kinds are still guaranteed to give you a ring of fire the next day.

11. You think Cantonese dessert starts with orange slices and ends with fortune cookies.

a) Fortune cookies are Japanese, and b) We’re such sugar freaks we add sweetener to our savoury dishes. True story! From red-bean slushies at the diner, Hui Lau Shan mango treats on a hot day, tong but lut at Yuk Yip’s on Elgin Street, tong yun for Chinese New Year, dragon-beard candy at festivals, and green-bean icicles from 7-eleven, we’ve got sugar covered for every occasion. Theres even competing chains of dessert-only restaurants selling our legendary sweet soups. This sugar dedication must win some prize.

P.S. Get over our love for beans in dessert — we dig beans. End of story.

12. You thought nose-to-tail eating was a hipster thing.

Necessity breeds creativity and we’ve been performing culinary magic with all the scary bits way before the hipster bandwagon made peasant-food cool. Just check out our Michelin-starred duck tongues, ginger-steamed ox stomach, braised chicken feet, pork knuckles in black vinegar, stir-fried goose intestines, roasted pork cheek, pork blood with chives, soy braised ox tongue, and more. Don’t be scared, we’ve had a couple thousand years to fine-tune this, so live a little and taste something risqué today. Your tastebuds will thank me later.

13. You think medicine is something the doctor prescribes.

Self medicating with food is a Cantonese obsession. Ng fa cha cures summer rash, and winter chills call for a hot pot laden with tonics. If we’ve been hitting the bottles hard, we visit herbal-tea stores for ching bo leung the next day. Dong guai soups are prescribed for the ladies, and snow fungus and papaya have moisturizing properties. It/s no wonder so many of us live past the century mark.

14. You avoid dai pai dong like the plague.

By skipping street food, you’re missing out on an essential experience of HK’s food culture. Do ya think they’d all still be in business if they poisoned their customers on the regular? Some of the best chefs are found curb-side under a naked lightbulb serving crispy, stinky tofu, bowls of chopped offal in gravy, silky cheong fun with sesame paste and sweet sauce or wun tsai chee with red vinegar. And I haven’t even mentioned the cooked-food centres and open-air restaurants of Temple Street where you can enjoy a cold Tsingtao with salt n’ pepper mantis.