Hong Kong on $1000 a day, aka "From Bruce Lee to Jet Li"

First morning in Hong Kong, jet-lagged and red-eyed, I went to see the harbo(u)r. Most of the paved blocks on "Hollywood Boulevard" did not actually have hand or foot prints. Jet Li's "hands" look suspiciously small for a fighter who can kill hundreds and fly around a lot. Notice the running shoes - clearly an American tourist giveaway.
This fine statue of Bruce Lee dominated the landscape. What does it say about me that I find a statue attractive? His hair is all about the 1970s. Not that that detracts from attractiveness, of course.Why is some of this text black and some white? I have no idea - just call me a 20th century teacher; I can handle it.

So what the heck was I doing in Hong Kong other than ogling statues and handprints? I was there for IB indoctrination . . . oh, I mean an IB conference (that's "International Baccalaureate") for all of you heathens. It was a necessary step, as I was basically one day behind in teaching my students. That's right; not one step ahead, but one step behind. I would have to change the calendar AFTER each class to reflect what we had actually done vs. what I had planned.

Again, for the uninitiated, let me say that teaching IB is NOT THE SAME as teaching AP. In AP, you basically just cram the info down their throats, hope they understand the "art" of Point of View for the essays, and then give them lots of multiple-choice quizzes. In IB, since the high-stakes testing all comes at the end of two years, and it's all essays, they have to learn (darn!) how to synthesize and use evidence in their essays, since that's the only chance they'll have to "show what they know." And they're competing with that @#$* British system that requires them to actually learn historical detail, unlike the American system in which one can BS most of the way through high school, if not college.

I used to hate IB and love AP but after going to this conference I was reborn as an IB advocate. I have the adapter plugged into my formerly AP brain shunt. And I love the fact that IB grading is mysteriously unpredictable and inconsistent, almost as much as I loved the fact that the AP exam graders change the grading standards as they grade. So much for data-based whatever.

The conference was at a Hong Kong international school What is an international school, you ask? Any school that wants to add "international" to its name - handy if you want to attract people who like that word in a school name. The power of semantics is amazing. Visions of global banking executives dance in parents' heads when they see that word. I'm thinking of adding a powerful aura to my presence by renaming myself "International Ellen." Right now I'm more like "hobbling-on-sprained-ankle Ellen." You decide - which sounds better?
Notice the name of this cafe, "Toujours." Designed to make people think that there's some sort of French thing going on. Actually, the servers all wore shirts that said, "Happy to serve" on the back, a slogan that seems anything but French. And this lady was so eager to keep the line moving that I wondered if she ran up the escalator on her way to work and was actually from Tokyo, London, or Washington, D.C.*

In case you didn't know this, Hong Kong is part of China. That really big East Asian country that continues to be a totalitarian dictatorship even though that is totally uncool in today's world. Yet HK continues to have the reputation of a swingin' city with a British flair. The mix is interesting. Here are some observations that may be key in analyzing what this all means.

1. *People in Hong Kong do not run up escalators like they do in Tokyo, London, and Washington, D.C. They don't seem in a hurry. This could be because they are:
a. depressed
b. complacent
c. unemployed
d. on a meditative plane

On the other hand, they could be distracted by the propaganda all around them, such as this ever-so-subtle anti-smoking message that, flashing on and off, mesmerized me into almost missing the ferry. In fact, the newspapers reported, while I was there, that smoking rates in Hong Kong are decreasing. Or maybe the flashing lights just made me THINK I had read that. Doesn't this guy make you want to be like him? And what IS "smokerhood?"







2. People in Hong Kong don't seem as dressed up as people in any of the above cities when going to work. This could mean
a. They don't have as much money (though I don't know how they could survive);
b. They don't care about appearances but look for inner beauty.
c. The comparison cities are not appropriate choices.
d. There's no "d" but I'm trying to make this "quiz" look fair.


There were quite a few Buddhist monks in Hong Kong, surprising for a country (China, that is) that is decidedly and officially atheistic and even beats up monks.
Apparently these particular monks are not actually monks, but capitalist spies. I could tell because, cleverly capturing all of this on camera, I caught them breaking the "no eating or drinking" rule on a public bus, not to mention hogging the desirable front-row seats and casting flirtatious glances at the girls in front of me.



3. At the private international school I visited, the students were divided into houses named after Chinese dynasties, both Han (Tang, Song, Ming) and Manchu (Qing). They even have captains. Possible interpretations of this are:
a. a secret imperialist plot to take over education
b. the imminent comeback of the corrupt Qing emperors
c. the continuing influence of Confucianism on education
d. an attempt to brainwash young people into thinking that the dynasties were the "childhood" of China but that they will "graduate" to a sort-of Communistic dictatorship.


This was some sort of "scout" organization at the school that seemed to give off whiffs of totalitarianism and/or fascism. They were marching back and forth across the basketball court trying to get the "reach" perfected and the stride longer. They seemed to be having trouble marching in unison, which made me think that there were still capitalistic and possibly even democratic memories lingering in Hong Kong









4. Hong Kong hotels are ridiculously expensive but the metro, take-out places, and pick-your-own candy stores were cheap. This is a sign that:
a. Tourists are stupid.
b. Tourists have a lot of money or are spending someone else's money.
c. Tourists don't take the metro, eat at take-out places, or buy candy out of plastic bins.
d. I am an a and b but not c tourist. In other words, stupidly cheap when spending other people's money?

Hotel experiences I will remember:
1. The first meal I ate there, breakfast for $30 (egg, toast).
2. The second meal I ate there, dinner for $30 (bowl of noodles)
3. The buffet that looked really good but that I did NOT get due to its cost ($70)
4. swimming laps in the beautiful pool overlooking the harbor, and sharing the small hot tub with two grotesque-obese Russian men with lots of gold chain around their necks. I spent the whole time "relaxing," defined as trying to find places for my limbs that were nowhere near theirs.










5. getting not one, but two, suprisingly reasonably-priced Cosmopolitans at the bar, which resulted in my becoming fascinated with a China vs. Iran match of . . . um. . . some sport on a field, and then getting into a conversation with a guy who was blocking my view of the TV, an Austrian construction supervisor with bad teeth who looked like Larry of the Three Stooges, who then asked me if I had plans for later in the evening, to which I responded, always on the edge of wild and craziness, "grading some papers and then reading my book." Why people think I'm a nerd I'll never understand.


Here is a true sign of decadence and imperialism - brunch at the Peninsula Hotel, which ran something ridiculous like $150 a pop, but nonetheless had a long line of would-be patrons waiting while others, clearly wise to this "capitalist round-up" took pictures of the gullible while suffering from "scone envy."

Finally, the random picture of a beautiful sunset, which shows either that the Earth is round, that my hotel room was perhaps worth the high price, or
that . . . the sun sets everywhere, even in Delhi, where you usually can't see it.