Oh, right, I'm in CHINA (sort of)!

Hong Kong is an easy city to live in. Whatever the reason - it's something of a "chicken and the egg" question (does the convenience bring ex-pats, or do ex-pats breed convenience?), combined with the obvious fact of long-time British rule - the city is just Western enough, just clean enough, just safe enough that people like myself have no problem getting around.

Of course, that sterilization can make you forget sometimes that you are in fact in China (sort of). Fortunately, not all of Hong Kong is as new and shiny as Central, where I live and work. In fact, some of it is actually, well, Chinese.

I'd been longing for a new digital camera, and despite the fact that electronics really aren't much cheaper here any longer, I finally broke down and decided to buy a new one (the catalyst was the fact that my flash bulb had burned out on the old one while in Nepal, and I had little time, energy, or motivation to get it replaced). I had asked Paul, a co-worker, where to go, and he'd suggested that I have his boyfriend take me shopping. Paul and Derek have been around for over a year, and Derek is actually a photographer himself, meaning he knows where to go and how to bargain, not to mention substantially more than I do about cameras generally speaking.

Paul and Derek live in Wan Chai (read: not Central), and Derek had me meet him there for lunch at his favorite Thai restaurant to provide much-needed energy for shopping. Wan Chai is a much more middle class, residential area than Central, a fact that struck me as soon as I got out of my cab, and that was driven home by the round-about route we took to the restaurant. Turning down a side street, Derek explained that he wanted to walk us through the Wan Chai market, a local market more akin to those I saw in Cairo than the shopping I'd been doing in Hong Kong. The next thing I knew, we were sidling through a barber shop into a back alley, then turning down an alley way filled with suspiciously fishy puddles and into a butcher's shop. We walked past vendors selling hot steamed buns (filled with meat, red bean paste, lotus, you name it), steamed pork, live chickens, fresh eggplant, incense, traditional red wedding cards, and anything else the average Hong Kong local might need on a Tuesday afternoon. Jason, another summer associate who had joined us for lunch, stared longingly at the food vendors - he spent his first nine years in China, and was craving some "local" food. However, Derek was adamant about this Thai restaurant, and it had made it into a "tip sheet" compiled by former summer associates, so we dutifully followed in his wake.

Finally, we arrived at the restaurant, which happened to be in the back of a store. As we walked in, a woman behind a desk in the back (apparently recognizing Derek, who is likely the only tall bald white guy to ever enter the building) stood up, shook her head, and said, "No, no! Closed!" in a mournful voice. The communications were sketchy at best, but it turns out the restaurant we had been hoping to dine at had just been closed down for operating without a license. The letter she handed Derek in explanation was actually a summons to court.

Now THAT is authentic.

Thus thwarted, we ended up eating at a won ton noodle joint in the neighborhood, another of Derek and Paul's favorites. We sat down on multi-colored plastic stools at a table with a bottle of hot sauce and a can of chopsticks, and Derek ordered "three, big." A few short minutes later, our table was laden with three large bowls of noodles and fat shrimp won tons (dumplings). The food was delicious, the restaurant was authentic (I would have been laughed out of the shop if I'd asked for American utensils, and the door was actually a thick sheet of plastic hanging from the frame), and together with a bowl of greens and three drinks, we paid a whopping HK$61, which comes out to under US$8. Derek reminisced fondly on the days when he and Paul first started eating there, and the large bowls were only HK$11 each (inflation has bumped them up to HK$12, but business is still booming). A far cry from the ritzy meals in air conditioned hotel restaurants that we've been consuming thus far, and a nice change of pace. Of course, I couldn't eat like that every day - my lack of chopstick expertise would be an incredibly efficient weight-loss system!

After lunch, Jason went back to work and Derek and I trekked across Wan Chai to the Computer Centre, a two story "mall" filled with nothing but electronics shops - cameras, computers, cell phones and the like. But there wasn't a Best Buy or Circuit City in sight. Rather, these stores were tiny, each the size of a small bedroom, with one or two men standing behind a counter and the walls covered with glass display cases. Bargaining was minimal, as most items have marked prices (and if they don't, red flags should be raised), but in the end I got a nice Canon digital camera (the Japanese version, which means if it breaks, I have to mail it to Tokyo to get a warrantied repair), a huge memory stick and a back-up battery for a pretty decent price. And what the store lacked in super-store guarantees and selection, it more than made up in sheer local charm - unlike every shopping center I've been to in Central, this place didn't have a white person in sight. (Well, other than us.)

Before sending me back to the office, Derek insisted we stop to get dessert at a local chain. We had to order by pointing to the sign and signaling "two", but in the end we wound up with delicious mango drinks with sago and coconut, and excellent mango mochi, which I'd always thought only came in ice cream form (you learn something new every day!).

Afterwards, Derek refused to let me flag a cab, instead insisting that I take the trolley, which runs directly in front of the Bank of China Tower. Thus, another local experience - we went and bought an Octopus card, which is a rechargeable card good for all public transportation, and usable at a lot of local shops and restaurants (including Starbucks!) as well, and then he told me how to get on the trolley and off I went. I must admit, it was kind of an adventure, and HK$2 for a ride back to work beats the HK$15 minimum cab fare any day! Of course, nervous I'd miss my stop, I got off two stops early, but I have few complaints - even though I'm comfortable and happy in my ex-pat neighborhoods, it's good to know that I am in fact in Asia, and there's still a place for me to buy smoked fatty pork off the street, if I so desire.