CeeCi, Leo Solo, and Lime gave me a Thinking Blogger Award… gosh guys, you obviously have no idea about the chaos in my head. I am extremely flattered. Blogging is mostly a way to keep my insanity at an acceptable level…
… and being part of a wonderful community. I have met so many interesting people living in all corners of the world, expressing their thoughts and creativity. People I would have never met, had I not stumbled upon this medium. I think, this meme is a wonderful way of creating new links around the blogger world, of making the web a little denser.
Onto the task of passing on the torch…
Keda at mamahog ‘n the lets blogs from Istanbul about the beauty and madness of life, and rounds it all up with the occasional political rant when the world deserves it. She does it in her own, wonderful style, which inspires me and always leaves me feeling happier than I was before visiting her blog.
Anastasia at Sexualité has already received a dozen Thinking Blogger Awards… here is another, I can’t help it. She writes erotic short stories and posts with sexual topics, but doesn’t stop there, which I like very much. She eloquently steps over the lines that some draw between our sexuality and the rest of life. In her posts, Anastasia discusses social and political issues as well, all in a very intelligent and independent way.
Mustang doesn’t blog often, but when he does he always finds beautiful, simple words to express the most profound. His blog is titled Zen Bunny… don’t know about the Bunny, but Zen definitely hits the mark. I found him via Lecram, who will get a golden thinker from me as well, after he has freed some shelf space next to his golden soup bowl.
Goodthomas in Chicago writes poems and short stories, which show the extraordinary and beautiful in daily life. His posts remind me of detailed paintings, drawn with words instead of paint. Poetry for me is the expression of a world of emotions in a few, well chosen words, and Goodthomas does just that.
Clarsonimus at Observing Hermann is an American living in Berlin, slightly baffled by the Teutonic experience. He posts daily comments on political news and social idiosyncrasies in Germany. His political views are on the right side of mine (only politically speaking, Clarsonimus!), and sometimes make me fuming mad, but are written in an entertaining style, and certainly make me think. His blog is also one of the few places I have found where Americans and Europeans, right-wing and left-wing, discuss things in a civilized manner… most of the time.
Istanbul, Sydney, Fresno, Chicago, and Berlin… wow, it truly is the word-wide web.
Should you want to carry on the tradition, please play by the following participation rules: 1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think, 2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme, 3. Optional: Proudly display the ‘Thinking Blogger Award’ with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn’t fit your blog).
Tonight I felt like the walls were closing in on me from all sides, moving closer and closer until I could almost touch them. Staying inside for days to care for little man and the aftershocks of jet-lag were showing their effects.
I grabbed my iPod and went for a late evening walk. The air was warm enough for just jeans and t-shirt to wear, and I walked for two hours along Hong Kong’s streets. Night-time brings a special mood, that I very much enjoy. Details seem amplified, and thoughts are much clearer. I would be a nocturnal being… if the rest of the world would let me.
First I listened to some slow jazz numbers, and then moved on to this…
Download Cruisin’ by right-clicking and selecting Save Link As.
…which is just perfect for late night listening.
The song reminded me of late night drives through Berlin with my best friend, when we were teenagers. She was the first of us two to turn eighteen, and was the proud owner of a slightly beaten-up, fire-red Volkswagen. On Friday and Saturday nights, we would hit the clubs, meet friends in cafes and bars, or go to a party, and dance and flirt the night away.
In the morning hours, we drove home, making lots of detours while listening to music, talking about the evening, and looking out of the window watching the city lights fly by. The fire-red Volkswagen was an infinite improvement to waiting for the night bus in the wee hours.
Aah, Switzerland… the Alps, numbered bank accounts, cheese, and chocolate. I have visited Switzerland before, on business trips and vacations, but I had never been to Basel, the destination of my latest trip.
I didn’t see the Alps this time. Basel is located at the Rhine River in the northwest of Switzerland, a stone’s throw away from the borders of France and Germany. There are beautiful hills, but no Matterhorn. I didn’t open a numbered bank account either. The small change in my current account can stay where it is.
This only left cheese and chocolate to enjoy, and wonderful lunches at the banks of the Rhine. My ass only expanded a little. I walked it all off during sight-seeing.
My trip consisted of two days of wheelings and dealings for Cosima Inc and one blissful day of exploring Basel.
When I looked for a hotel room on the internet – much too late, I admit – I was only able to find outrageously priced rooms. As Cosima Inc is a start-up company, and its only shareholder/employee/gofer runs a tight budget, the Trois Rois was out of the question… unfortunately. But a call at the Basel tourist office yielded a private room in Dornach, a village just outside of Basel at CHF80 (US$ 66) a night. Private rooms can be a little risky, especially if you haven’t even seen a picture beforehand, but this one turned out to be very nice. I had a huge room with balcony, a bathroom with shower, and even a small kitchen on the upper floor of a house owned by a very nice couple. The only downside was the location of the house, at the outer edge of the village, on top of a hill, far away from the tram and train station. The village bus came every thirty minutes, at night only every hour… I walked quite a lot during my trip.
But my strolls through Dornach were quite interesting. Every morning, I came by the Goetheanum, and other buildings that were slightly out of the ordinary.
The Goetheanum is the the center of the Anthroposophic Society and hosts its offices and a performance theater. The founder and architect was Rudolf Steiner, whose educational and philosophical teachings form the basis for Waldorf education.
Upon seeing it, my first thought was “bunker”. I guess in the 1920s, when the Goetheanum was built, concrete was still seen as a new, exciting building material, valued for its formability. Upon nearer inspection and seeing the sculpted walls inside, I was almost converted to the building’s virtues… almost.
I liked the smaller buildings much better.
::giggle:: This is the furnace building.
I had the choice between a fifteen-minute train ride or a thirty-minute tram ride to the center of Basel every morning. Basel’s old town, built on the banks and hills above the Rhine, and the promenade along the river are very beautiful.
In the old town, houses often have their name and building date above the entrance. In the older quarters, I saw dates from the 13th to 15th century. In the “newer” neighborhoods the buildings dated from the 18th century.
I also enjoyed crossing the river by ferry. Although there are plenty of bridges, at several points along the river it is possible to get to the other side by taking a small boat. These ferries don’t have motors, but are attached to steel ropes hung across the river, and are propelled by the current alone.
Before coming to Basel, I didn’t know much about the city. It’s not known as Switzerland’s most picturesque spot… it’s hard to compete against romantic villages nestled in the Alps. The city is also infamous as the centre of Switzerland’s pharmaceutical and chemical industry. Novartis, Roche, and other companies have their headquarters here.
The Other Side of Town
In 1986, a chemical warehouse of Sandoz (which is now part of Novartis) burnt down, and the runoff fire-fighter water poisoned the Rhine for hundreds of kilometers. The river seems to be back to its old self, but the incident is still remembered by many, and still tarnishes the city’s image.
The stomach bug of my little man turned out to be a throat infection that also affected the lymph nodes in his stomach. We went to see the doctor today, who gave him a suppository and a prescription for antibiotics. The “butt rocket” helped wonders. It decreased his fever, restored his appetite and his energy, so much so that he wanted to show me all the football tricks he had learnt while I was away. I am not a fan of antibiotics. They tend to be prescribed too often by Hong Kong doctors, but this infection has been scary and long enough to let me think that tougher measures are justified.
Unfortunately, the antibiotics come in the form of medicinal-tasting white syrup with small lumps in it. Why? Why in hell? After a small lick at the spoon, this evil fluid was outright rejected by my son as too disgusting. What followed were more than thirty minutes of coaxing, reasoning, bargaining, tough talking on my part to get this into his mouth. Even the offers to mix it with juice and even sweeter things were rejected. I think it was utter exhaustion that let him finally agree to gulp it down. Wish us both luck for tomorrow and the following days, when we have to repeat the procedure… twice daily.
Last night, I returned from my not-so-secret mission to Europe. The only 007 aspect of my trip was the six hour lay-over in Moscow.
It takes a special frame of mind to survive stopovers in Moscow’s Sheremetyevo Airport unruffled.
I can take the three-hour-waits in front of the closed transfer counters. I can take Aeroflot’s consistently unfriendly ground staff. I can take the single flight information board, carefully hidden away in a dark corner. I can take the eight Euros for a pot of tea, and the sourly faces and rudeness of the waitresses. I can take the squalid toilets… with tightly, clenched nostrils. I can take the too few chairs that force half of the passengers to sit on stairs or stand around…
But what I can absolutely not take is people rummaging through my checked-in baggage and stealing a bar of exquisite Swiss chocolate…
Just wait! After I have received my gadgets from Q, I will return… be very afraid!
The rest of my trip was lovely though, and I will post pictures of Switzerland after I have taken care of a few pressing things for Cosima Inc. and nursed my son back to health, who has caught a nasty tummy bug.
Birds are chirping, it’s warm enough (24C/75C) to sit outside, and everything is in bloom. I am so glad, I could squeeze in a stopover at my parents’ house in Berlin. Tomorrow I am going to fly to Switzerland.
The pictures are from a park, we visited yesterday. Berlin is a very green city, with lots of street trees and parks, and at the moment full of nature’s abundance. So different from Hong Kong’s jungely green.
She is washing her hands in the female toilets in front of gate 1. She stares into the mirror and sees three things: her smudged mascara, a cleaning lady mopping the dirt from the left side to the right side of the room, and a woman disposing something brown and dirty into a wash basin. Question marks pop up in her head, demanding an answer. She turns around and discovers that the woman is bathing a cactus the size of a human head, trying to get rid of the soil around it. More question marks pop up.
She then goes to gate 3, and queues to board her flight. The woman with the big cactus is there as well, pleading with ground personnel. A woman in a red uniform points to a specific spot on the giant prickly cactus, and says
“See here, Madam? That’s not ok. You need to bathe it again.” “Will I be allowed to take it onboard afterwards?” “Yes, Madam!”
The woman takes her cactus and walks back to the toilets.
It seems to be ok to take a spotlessly clean cactus onboard, even if it is the size of a human head and covered with thousands of thorns. Maybe there exists a logical explanation. Maybe.
They are at the airport, directly in front of the entrance that has Departures in giant letters written next to it. She kneels down in front of the little boy, and takes him into her arms, squeezing him very tightly. He smells so good, of love and the raisin bread he just ate in the coffee shop. She gives the little man a kiss on his mouth, another one on his soft cheek. Then he buries her face in the hollow between his ear and his shoulder.
He smells so good.
“Mommy, I want to come with you. I will miss you!” “I will miss you too, very much. But I won’t be away for long.” “For how long?” “Not long. Just ten times sleeping.”
The boy’s eyes widen. “That’s very long!” “No, it will be over in no time.”
She is a liar. Ten times sleeping will feel like a little eternity. To her.
“I will call you every day.”
“I love you to outer space, mommy.” “I love you too, darling. To the moon and back, and around the sun.” “When I am grown-up, I will take you in my space ship. That’s much faster than an airplane.” “Yes, you will.”
“Bye bye, darling.” “Bye.” . . .
I will be traveling for… ten times sleeping :), but will try to post, depending on the internet connection.
We had quite an active Easter weekend. On Sunday afternoon, I foolishly started to repot the plants on our balcony. During the last five years, they have only received the most basic of care… water… sporadically, as I had my hands full with my baby. But my son is now 4 years old, and I can’t use him as an excuse anymore. Most of the plants have the size of small trees, and are in giant pots. Let’s just say, it helped to have grossly underestimated the amount of work this would be. It was dirty, back-breaking work and it took half a day, but I finished the task ::claps on her own shoulder:: :).
On Monday, we did an outing to Lantau Island, which is the largest island in Hong Kong area-wise, but is not as densely populated as Hong Kong Island or the Kowloon Peninsula. We hiked along the southern shore line of Lantau, passing by a Trappist monastery and ending our hike in Mui Wo, a small sea-side town nestled in front of a steep mountain range.
I was a little bit apprehensive, as the paved trail has some very steep sections, up as well as down, often over steps. I was worried that my son would go on strike half-way through. But I needed not to have worried. He is such an energy-laden boy, and there was lots to see along the way to prevent him from getting bored.
The Trappist monastery was founded by Catholic monks, who fled Mainland China after the communist revolution. It is nestled in a grove, densely covered by high trees and giant bamboo. The monks have put up wooden crosses along the steep road from the monastery’s pier to the chapel, symbolizing the fourteen stations of the cross. I guess, it’s meant as a not so gentle reminder to complaining walkers that their suffering is but small in comparison. It was quite a fitting hike for Easter. In Hong Kong, the Trappist monastery is also known for it’s milk production. Milk with the Trappist brand is sold in every supermarket, but doesn’t come from the monastery anymore. However, there is still a small herd of cows directly at the monastery, and with a little bit of luck, which we didn’t have this time, a single or a whole herd of small, black cows with big horns, can be seen grazing on grounds nearby.
The trail took us atop a mountain look-out with a marvelous view. We could see Peng Chau Island and Hong Kong Island in the hazy distance.
Then the descent began, down countless steps to Mui Wo. But the mountain panorama more than compensated for the effort. Mui Wo’s beach was full of people enjoying the Easter holidays. There are quite a lot of hotels along the beach, catering to Hong Kongers, wanting to spend a day or two away from the hustle and bustle of the city. They are also quite popular with young couples still living at their parents’ houses, in search for a little privacy.
We ended the day with an alfresco dinner at a small Turkish restaurant. Mui Wo, although small, has a wide selection of restaurants, offering local seafood cuisine as well as Western fare.
Go here to see the rest of the pictures. They show quite a different side of Hong Kong… not skyscrapers, but almost rural quietness.
Germany is looking for its American Idol… eh… Superstar. Until last week, I hadn’t seen any of these two shows… yeah, I know, I do live behind the moon, and what’s even worse, hardly watch television anymore.
Anyway, so this German clone show is underway, and through a very nifty web service we are able to record German TV programs and later see them on our PC in Hong Kong. I have to admit that I only saw a quarter of “Deutschland sucht den Superstar”, because I fast-forwarded most of the bla bla in between the actual singing, but my money is on her…
Lisa Bund, 18 years old, currently working in her parents’ lingerie store in Mainz. Here she sings Pink’s “Nobody Knows”…
…but I am voting out the hairdresser. She also did a great Natural Woman… with natural hair.
