Friday, April 18, 2008

Of Crouching Tigers and Hidden Dragons

Perhaps the most interesting thing about my 30-day experience on Mandarin lands is the language barrier. Having been an insufferable-crib-about-it-all co-intern, the Midget Rogue isn't really wearing all tinted glasses. Of course, notwithstanding the tinted glasses on my room - which incidentally guise the typhoon signal 3 outside, I realize the invariable reality - I cannot go out today, and hence I must blog.

Not before I give my clothes to the laundry, I decide. I force myself out of bed and pull out the laundry cover from the hotel cupboard. The pile of clothes that has been growing over the week, is quickly stuffed into the miserable excuse for a bag. I pull out the hotel key card (which of course is more importantly my sole source of a Chinese address) and walk out of the room.

The door knob has hardly turned when I realize the housekeeping staff is here.

"May uh?" She asks.

"What?" I ask back.

"May Uhhhh?" The nasal tone is irritating.

It's 5 minutes before she shows me a card that says Make Up Room.

"After lunch". I say. This is the only problem with weekends - you're there when they clean up the room. As I go down from the 16th floor, I wonder how I should really be staying at the 61st floor, given the fact that buildings seem to compete for height around here. Man, what is a Midget Rogue doing round here?

I look around for some sheltered footpath that would take me to Curry Kings. There it is. Long thin way next to the toy shop. Happily I cross the roads and scuttle along the walkway, till I begin to see the toys moving on their own. Oops...I must try to distinguish toys from meat. Amazing reptilian delicacies. And with no clue what's gonna happen to them. I stand by to see what'll happen.

Old Chinese Woman: [incomprehensible Mandarin]
Butcher : [incomprehensible Mandarin]

The butcher raises his knife. I move away to avoid the shock. It is at this point that I realize that this is so profound an experience that it deserves to be recorded in more spontaneous moments and photoblogs.

With a call to the reception, I yell.
"Can.....you......tell.....me....when ....the ........next......shuttle.......to............Tsim Sha Tsui .........is? And......whether.......it.......will........run........in........this weather?"
No, he doesn't understand. I go out and punch the elevator button.