May All Your Wishes Come True

I have this history exam tomorrow, which I thought was going to be the day after tomorrow. If I had known it was going to be so last minute I might not have gone in to uni today to hang out, but I'm kind of glad I went anyway. It's cold and rainy at the moment, which I actually quite like. This is probably because it is good weather for books, video games and films. And beef noodle soups from the Half-Time cafe in Sunnybank.

But I digress. It was raining when I was planning on walking back home from uni, so I took the ferry instead. They have some banal television program on for people who don't want to look at the awesome view of the river, and as my eyes were passing contemptuously over the screen I saw "Words of Wisdom" in large comic-book letters next to a broadly drawn tree. And then the following faded in to the center of the screen:

"May all your wishes come true." (Ancient Chinese Curse)

This sounds off to me. The only way I know of saying something like this in Chinese is 万事如意 wanshiruyi, and I'm pretty sure it's never used as a curse.

I mean, seriously. I could be totally wrong, but...what kind of Fu Manchu bullshit are they trying to pull here? Even if this was an ancient Chinese curse, it would still be stupid. Can you imagine the bearded villain wriggling his fingers whilst uttering some incantation, to harness the forces of darkness so that the hero... loses some weight, meets a nice girl, gets the kid through college, becomes an astronaught and dies peacefully surrounded by family and friends?

It's moronic, is what it is. "You might not know the entire consequences that would follow from a particular set of conditions" or "If you could see the entire chain of events, you would not wish for it" seems to be the point they're trying to make. Which is actually quite different from getting everything that you wish for.

Let's assume that there really is a curse you can make, which will bring about the actualisation of all of someone's wishes. Firstly, you can't wish for something that you have no conception of. That's not what wishing is. Now, say that drinking a beer would entail stumbling across the street which would entail getting hit by a bus. Unless I harbour a deathwish, it's unlikely that getting hit by a bus is one of my wishes. In fact, I probably would wish for the non-occurence of that event.

Now assume that I didn't know about the causal necessity which would bring about my flattening, and we've established that you can't wish for something unknown. So suppose I wish to have a beer, and I wish that I don't get hit by a bus. If some asshole has put a curse on me so that all of my wishes come true, he clearly hasn't thought it through very well. I will drink the beer. And I will not get hit by a bus; non-contradiction ensures this.

At which point, I like to think that the prick who cursed me has a Cronenberg moment, looking something like this:


In fact, if that curse existed, I would want someone to try it on me. Because one of my wishes is that those dropkicks who try and justify ridiculous ideas by claiming that the idea is ancient and Chinese will have their heads explode. Not to mention all the other awesome states which would be brought about.

Not such an ingenius curse now, is it? My points here are that a) most 'ancient Chinese' stuff is not that ancient, not that Chinese, or just plain fabrication, and b) rationality doesn't discriminate.

My Infected Throat

My throat started causing me massive pain on Sunday afternoon, and it’s been getting worse since. I thought some gargle would have done the trick, but I also started getting feverish and aching all over, and sweating profusely. Walking up a hill required all the energy I had. So this afternoon I made a trip to the doctors and found out I have a throat infection. 10 days on a course of antibiotics will solve the problem, said the doctor. Not too bad I thought, but it was even better when I found out that symptoms should clear up after 2 days.

As I lurched out of the chemist I felt a burning need for fruit, since I was really thirsty and a little hungry but had no way of stomaching a cooked meal (it’s like something pinches my throat real bad each time I need to swallow something, it really hurts). I stocked up on pears, strawberries, bananas, oranges and grapes at the Fruit n Veg, then decided I needed something like Gatorade to accompany the fruit (as you can see I am a bon-vivant).

There’s a store down the end of my street which I’d never been into, so on my way back I stopped by there. As I was browsing the various flavors of Gatorade- Blue Bolt, Fierce Grape, all very manly names- I heard the mellifluous tones of Northern accented Chinese emanating from the corner of the store (or rather, the corner of the corner-store, to be specific). It turned out to be the store owner and his wife. I waited until all the customers in the store had been served and then approached him, and had a really good chat in Chinese. His family emigrated from Tianjin, which is a city I’m really fond of, partly because there’s a lot of Xiangsheng performers from there, and I really love the accent. I told him this, and in return he remarked that I didn’t speak Standard Chinese, I spoke Beijing dialect. Flattery, to be sure, but it’s much better to hear than what people used to tell me: that I spoke like I was from Taiwan.

So, anyway, that’s all kind of why I haven’t finished the next post in my series on Taiwan yet (it will be about the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall).

Trav'lin'

The end of the semester has almost arrived, and I've only got one essay left (maybe more regular blogging will resume?)

I'll have just over 3 months off, and I don't plan on spending it all in Cairns, or Brisbane. I'm thinking of taking a holiday but I'm not exactly sure where to go. The Australian dollar is pretty awful at the moment so I'll be taking that into consideration. I don't really feel the need to go back to mainland China for the time being, but I'm considering Taiwan as an option. Also Vietnam, Thailand or Malaysia all sound nice. And I had a friend recently go to Argentina who raved about the place.

If anyone has any ideas, I'd appreciate some feedback.

In the meantime, I've finally got time (which I've probably had all along, but...) to get back to the East Asian section of the library so I might be able to do some write-ups on some Chinese novels I've been having a go at.

Little Hong Kong

Last night my friend and I went to Sunnybank, as usual, and this time tried out a place called Little Hong Kong.  I had the BBQ Pork Rice, 叉燒飯，which as a dish is probably one of my favourites of all time.  It wasn't bad at Little Hong Kong, wasn't bad at all, and they also have an appropriate menu of drinks like Hong Kong style tea, 港式奶茶.  I recommend that one. 

There was no toilet humour this time, but something was a bit off.  My friend and I ordered in Mandarin, which was understood.  But when I tried to say thanks in Cantonese, (no idea how to input the characters but pronounced something like m'goi), I got a blank response.  Then I explain in Mandarin that I'm saying thanks in Cantonese, and the waitress replies "I don't speak Cantonese".

In a restaurant called Little Hong Kong?  Seriously?

Thankfully they are open until 1am so at least they got the opening times rather authentic.

Toilet Humour

On Wednesday a friend and I went to Sunnybank for some Chinese food. Our conversation (we catch up each week) usually goes something like this:

P: "So, where do you wanna go?"
C: "I'm easy, what did you have in mind?"
P: "Um...how about Sunnybank?"
C: "Sounds good"

We often go to Little Taipei, 小台北, but this time we went to a place called "Malaysian Corner", if I remember its English name correctly. It could be slightly different, but what stood out was the fact that it bore no resemblance to the Chinese name, 旺角餐廳, i.e The Mongkok Diner. The menu was partly Malaysian, but only partly. I'm guessing it's modeled on Chinese restaurants within Malaysia, making the assumption here that there is a large Cantonese population which settled a while ago in Malaysia (I'm pretty sure this is true).

Anyway, I got a dish of Kungpao Chicken, 宮保雞丁or 宮爆雞丁depending on where you go, which was tasty but had nothing on what I used to get at the cafeteria of my apartment in Beijing.

Given that the food was nothing to blog about by itself, and that I'm in need of interesting things to blog about since returning from China, at least the toilet didn't disappoint. There was a sign which read:

請勿蹲在廁板上如廁
please do not squat on top of the toilet seat whilst using the toilet.

I found it particularly funny to find such a sign in Brisbane. I've never seen a sign like it in China before, and didn't see any in Hong Kong that I can remember. I have had annecdotal evidence from female friends which suggests that such a sign is certainly justified at certain McDonalds within China as people adjust to a seated toilet as opposed to a squatted toilet.

I guess that it's overseas Chinese (especially overseas Cantonese) condescension at their 'cousins from the country' which provokes them to put up such a sign in a Chinese restaurant in Brisbane.

Anyway, I'd only give The Mongkok Diner 2/5 for it's Kungpao Chicken, but the toilet adornments made the trip worthwhile.

Beijing, Hong Kong and Brisbane Days

I did leave my camera in my hotel room in Hong Kong, but thanks to the awesome staff of The Cosmopolitan (now officially the best hotel ever, as far as I'm concerned), I'm now back in possession of my camera. Thanks guys!

Finally I can put up the quick photo journey I've been wanting to do for a while.

The first view is that from my Beijing apartment. This was the morning of my last day in Beijing. It wasn't raining.



This, by contrast, is the view out of the hotel window, on my first morning in Hong Kong.


And this is the view out of the flat I'm staying at in Brisbane. It rained this afternoon.

Junkie

I must be building up a tolerance. 250 grams used to last days. Now I'm doing 500 grams in an evening yet still thirst for more.

My name's Cooper, and I'm a strawb addict. Perhaps it was not eating a single strawb for a whole year, or perhaps this winter has produced a particularly fine, juicy, succulent bunch of strawbs. Either way, I'm hooked. It's probably the best thing about being in Brisbane right now.

So the word for strawberry in Chinese, 草莓 caomei, is literally straw berry. This is a bit much to be sheer coincidence, so I figured that strawberries probably aren't native to China. Seeking a China-centric answer, I looked up Chinese Wikipedia. I found out in Cantonese it is 士多啤梨, which I found out is pronounced sih do be leih, a transliteration from the English without meaning, as such, but does finish with the character for pear.

It was a good way to learn a bunch of words I'd never learn otherwise (which I'll probably forget in a few hours, but if I look up enough entries on fruit after a while...I'll be fluent in er, fruity language...ba-doom-tish). Apparently the part we eat is not actually strawberry fruit, but a part of the outer floral envelope created after the pollen has disseminated. The real strawberries are the little yellow things covering the surface of the strawberry. Or something like that.

I need another hit, but my supply is running low...

Floating Along

I was in the library this evening, and at 7.30 decided that I'd best be off soon. I'd just read a few more minutes and then head to the bus station. By the time I put the book down, an hour and a half had past. I had to run to the bus station, otherwise it'd be another half hour until the next bus. I just made it, but by that stage it was packed and I had to stand at the front, by the driver.

I'd never ever had that view before. The road is presented in front like a wide-screen presentation, and the slow, rolling, bouncing motion of the bus makes it feel almost as though you're gliding along the road. Try it sometime.

On the way back home I heard a Taiwanese on her mobile discussing university matters, and she inserted the English phrase "international finance management". It made me think how people choose to use foreign expressions for things that they could say in their own language. In this case it seemed particularly odd, because it was actually harder to say in English than Chinese. In English you'd have 10-11 syllables, as opposed to six in Chinese (国际金融管理, guoji jinrong guanli).

As I counted out the syllables and realised this weirdness, I considered asking her why she said it. But I figured she wouldn't appreciate it.

Brisbane is a Taiwanese Mecca

My friend once told me that Brisbane has the largest Taiwanese population in Australia. I haven't bothered to veryify that, but it's plausible enough. The Chinese department at my university is almost entirely run by that rogue state. Some of the best Chinese restaurants in Brisbane are located in the suburb of Sunnybank, where lots of Taiwanese reside. And in my Three Kingdoms class, I've had my first taste of a truly 'dia' accented Chinese in a while(嗲, dia is third tone, for budding Sinophones out there).

If you haven't heard of this word, I'll offer now my understanding of it. Wenlin gives the translation 'childish, coy'. The 'dia' accent occurs when a young woman (or not so young) speaks as though imitating a four year old girl. Some people find it infuriating, but I just find it strange. Well, strange and maybe a bit annoying. And whilst it's sort of spreading throughout mainland China, Taiwan is apparently the place to get a fix of it. Or Brisbane, for that matter.

I was having a coffee with friends this evening in South Bank and there was a pair of girls behind us speaking some weird dialect, which at times sounded like Shanghainese, but I'm pretty sure wasn't. They certainly had that dia way of speaking though. Weirder still, was going to the bathroom and seeing a guy dressed up as Robin. As in, Batman and Robin. He was leaning on the sink bench, furiously scribbling down notes in a book. I left without saying a word. I guess that doesn't relate to Taiwan, but I had to mention it; it was just too strange not to.

Anyway, I haven't been to Taiwan before, but sometimes feel like I might be living in Taiwan-town. More investigation is needed.

Being Back

I've been back exactly a week now. It's both good and bad, and strange and familiar. I was right about appreciating the weather: Cairns in winter is like a Romantic poet's realization of the ideal summer. This was really pronounced when my family and I went up to the tablelands (Yungaburra, specifically) for an overnight at a bed and breakfast (Eden House, specifically) last week. It was a Great Leap away from Beijing, in the best way. Eden House may do the best hot chocolate in the world; a slight tipple of cognac and lots of melted, really good chocolate, it's worth taking the trip up just to taste it, and see chocolate congeal on the edge of your glass whilst you're drinking. Just superb. I've never had a more peaceful night's sleep, nor had thicker slices of bacon for breakfast.

Then on the weekend we went up to Palm Cove, which, along with Yungaburra, is just about the best place to cure 'China Syndrome' that I can think of (nod to Paul). Without sounding like a singles advertisement, I enjoyed long walks on the beach, good wines, delectable cuisine (Nunu's may be the best restaurant I've ever been to, hot chocolates aside), and lying around reading Spence's "To Change China" (more on that another time) it was all just what I needed. These things make it good to be back.

"Pretty soon it'll feel like you never left" said one of Mum's friends.

I dunno about that. My last few days in China were quite memorable. Everyone in the apartment left a few days before my flight to Hong Kong, and I wasn't quite ready. So for a few lonesome days I had the city (and the apartment) to myself. I had the farewell dinners, looked at some places for the last time, even visited Stone Boat for the first time, which I loved. Then I had to get the apartment ready for the landlord and bond collection, which was a whole lot easier than I'd thought, thankfully. I was afraid she'd get annoyed about things like massive scratches along her wall (my bad, with a stray suitcase), or massive amounts of dust (that's the crappy air), or food stains (two males of university student age, ok?), but it turned out she was just concerned that we might have tried to steal her television sets or her air conditioners. Right.

That bond collection was at 8am of the 4th of July, the same day as my graduation ceremony, at 9am, and my flight to Hong Kong at 1.30pm. So I arrived at the ceremony hall (the literal Chinese name for which is the "Study Dilligently Hall"), with my luggage and a giants helping of anxiety. After an hour of pleasantries and official-babble on behalf of the various heads of department, I was able to get my certificate, say all the goodbyes, and then grab a cab to the airport.

After what seems now to be an obligatory delay at the Beijing airport of 2 hours, at terminal 3 (very impressive terminal that one), I was off and out of the smog. And I arrived into a Hong Kong clearer than I'd ever remembered seeing it.
I'd put up photos but I can't find my camera; I think I left it in the hotel room in Hong Kong. It's a shame because I took two great photos contrasting the difference in pollution between the two cities.

Anyway, the best way I can describe it is as follows:
It was like all of Beijing had been some drawn as a sketchy background in an early black and white cartoon, whilst in Hong Kong the sky, the grass, the mountains and the ocean were all rendered in stunning 3D colour, like Toy Story or Finding Nemo. It actually seemed too colourful at first.

I had the best time in Hong Kong, as I always do, caught up with some very good friends, and then all-too-soon had to take the train back to the airport for an 18 hour hell-haul back to Cairns, via Brisbane, via Singapore.

And now I'm happy to be comfortable for the time being, though university begins exactly one week from now.

Endless Noodles

Went to Endless Noodles in Sunnybank last night for dinner with some friends. As far as eating Chinese in Brisbane goes, Sunnybank is certainly the best suburb. It's really the true Chinatown of Brisbane- forget Fortitude Valley, as it's mainly Canton food made to a Western taste (i.e bland).

Endless Noodles, however, (西域拉面，I think, "Western Chinese Handmade Noodles") is genuine, authentic, the good stuff. My favourites are the delicious Xinjiang lamb sticks and the scalding hot pot. Seriously, the hot pot there is hot. I haven't been to Sichuan, but the hot pot of last night was apparently as hot as anything in Sichuan. My lips are still red and raw, and I think I've lost my ability to taste for a month- a good sign.