San Francisco Scenes x2

I was walking down 16th street this afternoon and heard a kid and an adult yelling playfully at each other - the kid calling the adult, "Dad." I turned around and saw that the kid who looked to be about 10 years old, sporting a mohawk, dyed pink. The father had the exact hair style.

At 9:30pm on a Tuesday night, I walked out of a BART station and saw a troop of jugglers honing their craft with great purpose. This wasn't a show - it was an organized practice. For juggling. On a school night. At a subway station.

Love/Hate

I've been back in San Francisco 12 hours and I have already been reminded of the things I love and hate about the place. When taking the BART from the airport, I was shocked how dirty and run-down the trains have become. Newspapers, peanut and sunflower seed shells were everywhere. The carpeting on the floors and the upholstery on the seats were worn and stained. The old stains had new stains on them. People openly ate and drank on BART. When exiting at my station I noticed the Clipper smartcard fare system, which as been plagued by problems ever since its recent launch. In short the BART ride was a microcosm of the problems facing San Francisco(and California as a whole) such as governmental budget woes, decaying infrastructure, subpar state agency performance and an absolute disdain of the populous to follow rules.
This morning I drove from the East Bay to Fort Funston (located in the Southwest corner of San Francisco). In that 45 minute drive I past through several micro-climates. The sunshine and warmth of the East Bay reminded me I didn't bring my sunglasses. When emerging from the brief darkness of the Yerba Buena Island tunnel of the Bay Bridge, I could see the San Francisco skyline wrapped golden by the morning sun. Beyond the skyline, I could make out the two red towers of the Golden Gate Bridge peeking above the morning fog. I was as if the City had written me a love letter to make up for the BART ride.

What are the Odds?!!

Today was the Mid-Autumn Festival. What does that mean? I'm not sure, but Patty got the day off. We spent the morning and early afternoon wandering around Wan Chai and Causeway Bay. We had to buy some lamps and Causeway Bay is a major shopping neighborhood. To fuel up for our task, we first stopped by a well-known restaurant that specializes in wonton noodle soup and congee called Ho Hung Kee. After visiting about half a dozen stores and finding two lamps, we picked up some roast goose and bbq pork for dinner. We then headed to the #28 Green Minibus stop. The #28 drops you off right in front of our apartment complex and Patty had never taken it so I wanted to show her where to pick it up in Causeway Bay. Just a block away from the bus stop, Patty and I approached a young man and women who were heading in the opposite direction. When we passed, I heard the young woman say something to the man in English. I instinctively stopped and turned around at the same time as the young man stopped and turn around. I looked at him and he looked at me and in an instant my eyes fixed on his chest to read the words on his T-shirt: "WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY in St. Louis" - white letters on a dark red t-shirt. The shirt looked familiar to me. Why? It was the exact same shirt I was wearing. I pointed stupidly at his shirt and asked, "Did you go to Wash U?" He said, "Yeah." I told him I did as well, but I didn't reveal what year I graduated because it was more than a decade before him. After chatting a bit more, he told me Mark Wrighton, the chancellor of Washington University was coming to Hong Kong and was going to speak somewhere. He asked for my contact info as he is active in the alumni group in HK. I gave him my card and Patty and I went on our way. What are the odds?!! Crazy.

Dante Alighieri Never had to go Furniture Shopping

Otherwise he would have included a Hong Kong Shopping Mall as one of the Circles of Hell in The Inferno. Patty and I spent five hours in a 28-floor mall looking for living room furniture. Lots of money and tears (from me) later, we picked out a modular couch and captain's chair. Now I need a drink and a nap.

Hong Kong Lightning Storm

 

 

How do you say "Recycle" in Cantonese?

Our apartment complex has approximately 350 units. I would estimate there are about 1,000 people living here. To service the entire complex, there are three recycling bins the size of San Francisco's home recycling bins (about 50 gallons each): One for paper; one for plastic; one for aluminum. There are no bins for glass, batteries or oil. I went online to find a place to recycle batteries. A government site listed the nearby Hopewell Center as having a recycling bin for batteries so I called the Hopewell Center. After being transferred three times, I was told recycling was on the fourth floor. So, I went to the fourth floor and found nothing. Everyone I spoke to just offered a puzzled look with I showed them by bag of used batteries. So I tried the local electronics store where I purchased my TV and vacuum cleaner. They told me to go to the MTR station and ask in one of the government buildings. And that's what I did. The first government building sent me around the corner to Southorn Center. I was looking for "Cellphone" Center because that's what I thought I heard the helpful government worker say. Anyway, the Southorn Center houses the Environmental Protection Department. On the first floor of the building was a container, no bigger than a shoe box for collecting rechargeable batteries. Since I had a bag of regular batteries I decided to visit the Environmental Protection Department on the 5th floor. The first guy I encountered spoke very little English and he called on another guy. The second guy told me about the container on the first floor but I explained I had regular batteries. He explained there was no place to recycle regular batteries in Hong Kong and I should just throw them in the rubbish bin. This from an employee at the Environmental Protection Department. How disappointing.

Putting a face on the tough times for photojournalists

A heartfelt and sobering blog entry from photojournalist
Ken Jarecke.