Yay, I'm in Hong Kong. Welcome to typhoons and air pollution. And giant portions of rice and pork.

This is the conversation I had with the manager who assigned me with my latest project:

"Hi Chris, please pack your bags.

Huh? What the heck?

Hong Kong.

Huh? What? 

You fly there next month.

Oh, ok. (HOLY SHIT)

Pauses for a while....'On second thought, next Monday.'
You can't be serious..."

I am now in Hong Kong. A place I thought I'd never visit let alone work in. As I write this, the country is experiencing its worst air pollution in years. When I came, it was after the biggest typhoon in years. 

What's next? Worst dim sum glut in a century?

On paper, my race is stated as Chinese. My features are that of a Chinese weightlifter whose diet consists of dumplings with dubious meat origins in it. And rice. Lots of rice. I am anything but. I do not relate to the Chinese mentality nor do I identify myself with any of its tradition and culture. Except for being calculative, vindictive and all that Shanghai jazz. So when people see me and talk to me in a Chinese dialect, the look of disbelief when I say I don't speak any is akin to a brown bear finding out that the salmon are now chicken (gasp and roar!).  

I am going to be here for the next 6 months with flybacks every 2 weeks (it also depends on the budget since I'm worth about 4 Chinese senior consultants) or until I get myself fired for being bad at work. In all honesty, I can't wait to get back to Singapore. While their food is significantly inferior to that of my home country, Malaysia, I'd much rather have it right now as my quota for pork has exceeded by a mile ever since I got here; I've had pork with tomato sauce, pork with some unidentified sauce, steamed pork with 3 cups of rice, pork with noodles that had didn't have much noodle are among the highlights of my porky adventure thus far.

I'll be diplomatic (since I'm still on the island) and say that I truly miss Malaysia. I used to laugh and roll my eyes whenever I hear someone say Malaysians are nice and friendly and other nauseating pleasantries but I now appreciate such words. It really is true.

Gosh, it's time for dinner. Maybe I'll try some rice with, you've guessed it, not pork.

Ta.

The dust has settled.

I am at home. In the morning. On a weekday. I am still getting paid. It's been 3 weeks since the project I was in ended. At first, it was rapture; no more getting up wishing the nightmare would end. Day in, day out, I would be subjected to mental torture. Many a time I wanted to give up and throw my laptop through the window but the thought of paying for the damaged window and laptop put me off every time. Instead, I told myself, one shitty part of the work at a time. So on my last day, it was all peace and quiet. 5:30PM came, I packed, said good-bye to the team and left.

The week after the project was bliss. Still woke up the same time but with a smile on my face. Didn't need to go the office anymore. That week was great. I slowly packed my stuff for the holiday the following week, played games and watched shows while checking mails. Best part? No mails of importance! Joy!

Fast forward to the present, I am wearing shorts and a smelly tee. Had my morning coffee, saw my girl off to work, watched a bit of Rachael Ray (whom I have a like/dislike thing) then checked my mails again. Nada. Not a thing of importance. I sent mails to my scheduler and counsellor asking for help in providing me information on courses I can attend while I wait for a new assignment. Nada. At least I tried, right?

Simply said, I am too lazy to be lazy. I get restless pretty easily. Whilst on holiday, I was thinking of what to do next after the first day even though we had things planned out. I am like a child with mild ADD. Can't sit down too much lest I waste away. My family and friends say take this time to rest and relax, after all, I did give my all to the project for nearly a year. Time to rejuvenate, they say.

But the time has come for me get back into the field. Being at home and doing things at a leisurely pace has been the greatest feeling after the nightmare yet I want to be in the thick of the action again. I checked my mails again, you guessed it, nada.

Time for Rachael Ray again.

Ta.

48 - 5. Do the math. That's how much sleep I got.

The body is an amazing object. Until you fuck it up with not getting sleep. Then, it starts to defy you. It forces your eyes to close half way. Your limbs start to feel heavy, and you realise you are dragging them like an ape.

When you tell your family you worked that much, they'll shudder and eyes get bigger. Why, they ask? How could such an organisation treat their staff in such a way. Thus begins the explanation. Ah, they go. Huh, they say. Take care is the end line. Skype call over, your body begins to shut down like whether you want or not. It's like an incessant prompt from your IT department to install mandatory software updates that you keep on clicking later and later then it says fuck you, we're installing now so save your work as fast as you can 'cos we're gonna do this shit now. 

The minute your head touches the pillow, sleep takes over you. Your mind is at ease, finally. 30 minutes later, you wake up. It's 2:47PM. Body clock and mind in total disarray. The body is depleted but the mind refuses to bend to its soporific grasp. Mind over matter? Mind wins. So the next 24 hours become odd, the mind is sort of fresh but the body is completely fucked. You know what I mean? Then, you go back to work at 5:05AM to continue where you left off.

Wonderful, isn't it?

Ta.

Happy New Year. Happy Chinese New Year. Ha..Fuck it, 2012 already sucks.

People!

How are you doing? I hope the holidays have been kind to you. Rejuvenated, I am. This is the second time I'm back in KL in a month and it feels great. Except for the heat. The damn, freaking heat. But all is swell in the household. Tomorrow, I will fly back to the island of tender characters who masquerade behind a wall of falseness to hide their lack of spine. Highfalutin is their calling card and highfalutin they shall be known thenceforth. 

Gosh, I love Dictionary.com. 

It's been nearly 7 months since I've left home to work abroad and the inevitable I-miss-home feeling is still there and strikes its hardest blow the day before departure. Mummy's boy I am and will always be. Yes, every month I will post something similar to this but it's the truth and it's easier to write the truth. I leave the lying in fiction. 

2012 started decently, to put it mildly. People were still in the holiday mood thus were more forgiving of one's mistake. As the days went by, that same forgiving nature was replaced with a more familiar tone: kiasu. Yes, the stories are indeed true. And I will reinforce this statement till the day I die. It's like they are born with a predefined fear of failing that they actually botch things because a one-time take on things is the only way and mistakes receive punishment of the highest order. Argh, all this anger is making me hungry for food. Real food. Read: Malaysian food. 

And don't get me started on the accent. 

I'm saving that for the next post. 

Ta.