I am Jack’s spastic digestive track.
Yes, lets just say that lunch highlights this day. I’ll get to that in a minute.
Today is the first day of work here so it’s off to learn a new MTR (subway/underground) route. We head to the Kwai Fong station and march in 87 degrees and 14,000% humidity down to Evergain Plaza. Coolest looking buildings in Kwai Fong but a pain in the ass to get to on foot.
Let me explain something about high humidity – and people from the Southeast, USA – you can *nearly* understand what this is like.
The air is heavy. Imagine throwing a towel in the dryer after the wash and taking it out in 20 minutes. Still very hot, moist, and if you wrap it around your head and try to walk a mile – you’re pretty much getting close to what it’s like here. Everything hangs in the air – diesel smell, old food smell, sweat smell, people smell, and harbor smell. It all mixes together to make this overwhelming miasma of odor that slightly shifts depending on the wind.
There are safe zones. The Circle K is one on this particular path. The doors stay open and as you walk by you’re blasted by 72 degree cool and conditioned air. A full two seconds of utopia as you walk by. You feel clean and are able to breathe without laboring to suck in all the moisture in the air. The downside to this is that it’s only for about four complete steps and no matter how slowly you try and take them, you’re through it too quickly. The humidity grabs you by the face and gives you a sloppy French kiss all the way down to your lungs to remind you that you’re its bitch and that no amount of convenient store air conditioning will save you.
I am Jack’s shrunken coin purse.
You see, when you are done with this (or any) trek and you walk into any place we are required to be at (work, hotel, or MTR) you get the icy grip of full bore cold air that envelops your sweaty body (and yes, you’re sweaty from the crown of your head to the tip of your big toe) and pretty much freezes it on contact. You really cannot prepare for this feeling even though you expect it. So not only do you walk from the weather which I’d say you can akin to “The Devils Asshole” you’re body is now freaking the hell out.
Frozen sweat on your person doesn’t mean you clothes dry – it means that you ‘re skin dries quickly and gets cold – and your clothes are soaked. Imagine jumping into a pool naked, getting out and putting all your clothes on – then drying off what’s still exposed while stepping into an igloo.
Of course I can’t really complain about the bottom floor of the building, I’m heading into a freaking data center that’s about 60 degrees with cold air blowing up your legs for the entire time. It dries me off in no time.
I am Jack’s growling stomach.
It’s time for food. We have to walk all the way back to the MTR station. We see this place called “China Land Restaurant”. Nothing is in English but we have pictures. There is also a sign on the wall that says something about winning an award for tourism so the assumption is made that “tourists = English speaking folks” (arrogant Westerners yes, but fuck – English has to be easier to know than Korean or Russian so we win on default – that and England had this island for 99 years).
Items on the menu include tripe, fried frog, pig kidney, fish head for two, etc.. Now not all the food was “nasty” sounding but understand, this place was real Chinese food. There wasn’t an egg roll, General Tso, or Mongolian beef anywhere in sight.
I ordered “Shrimp with Paprikas” and Brian ordered “Beef and Chili soup”. We also ordered some roasted eggplant for an appetizer – it came out with some sweet glaze. It wasn’t nasty like American eggplant – but I can take it or leave it.
So what we didn’t know was that the servings here were meant to be shared. They brought mine out and I was fairly pleased with the size of the order thinking “No way I can eat all this”. Fresh shrimp quick fried with peanuts in a spicy sour sauce that had a mix of red chili (sliced) and peanuts.
Then the 40 gallons of soup came out. Yeah, ok, not 40 gallons but it would have fed four easily.
The first think you notice on this soup is this reddish-orange liquid floating to the top. My friends, that is not grease. This is what’s called “Chili Oil”. There had to have been 100 little hot red chili peppers in this crock of soup. Still with seeds and tops. Once you dug around you got to the beef, bean sprouts, and thick broth that tasted of garlic, ginger, hot as fire something or other, and beef.
We begin to eat and I finally have some soup. The taste is out of this world. The Scoville scale says “Gotcha bitch!” as these little Thai Peppers leak oil on my lips and dig trenches. They’re thinking Gerry will be coming across the line or something and they’re dug in good.
Random URL: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scoville_scale
Anyways, I eat and enjoy this very hot and very delicious set of dishes. We pay and get out of there. You can really re-read the first half of this blog because that’s exactly what we went through again, complete with Circle K stop.
About 45 minutes after getting back in the swing of things something tells me I’m on a timer of about 60 seconds to get where I am to where I need to be. A grumble from deep within somewhere turns to a bellow with a slight lower intestinal cramp. This is not going to be good.
Assess the situation with me.
I’m on the 16th floor in a compound locked down tighter than any military installation. In the way of the restroom and salvation are 3 Chinese men, a key card access door (to which the aforementioned chinamen have access to, I do not), a language barrier, 3 stairs, 4 doors, and a stall barely big enough to turn around in.
This is a lot to think about while these Thai Peppers and mixture of everything else you consumed have had enough of being inside you.
I try and calmly walk over to the NOC (see, guard gate) and push the intercom button for someone to come let me out. They’re not there. None of them.
I seriously thought “If I shit myself – I still have to walk a mile to the train, ride an hour, walk 4 blocks back to the hotel by a bunch of hookers, ride up 17 stories in the worlds slowest elevators, and then find something to do with soiled clothes – I swear I’ll squat in the corner before that happens”.
Can you imagine me getting arrested for popping a squat in the data center?
Anyways – just so happens someone from the outside was coming in. It was critical mass time. I ignored protocol and barged right past him. No sign in or out, no explain where I was going, no turning my badge – if they wanted me they were going to have to follow.
Thankfully, I was bigger and must have had this look of sheer desperation / terror on my face and they saw me turn toward the hallway that had the bathroom.
BOOBYTRAP! FUCK! I’d run in there at sort of that “I’m not running I’m just walking obnoxiously fast” pace. The janitor had just been in there and they don’t believe in wet floor signs.
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was hold my bowel while trying not to fall on a wet floor – I turned into Scooby fucking Doo over there where my legs were going but I couldn’t get traction. I lunged over for the sink and regained my balance and my “shuffle clinch” just long enough to get to my destination.
I’m going to spare details but understand it was bad. BAD. Understand chili oil can gain revenge for being ingested. Understand noises like that scare Chinese people out of the room. Understand that I cracked up when I got a text message that made a Murlock noise that must have confused this poor guy who was just washing his hands.
I’m sitting there, sweating, half crying, and now full out laughing.
So yes, lunch and hour after were the highlight of my day.
We finished a ton of work, got “home” by 8:30, went to Bottoms Up (more on that later, totally not what you think, sort of…) and then had a few pints of my favorite beer and a meal at the Bull and the Bear pub.
Now it’s time for a shower and breakfast and to see what stories today holds.
Cheers,
-Keith
*Note
To fully appreciate the story above, please listen to the “Murloc Aggro” sound that comes from my phone:
http://www.owlboy.com/wowwiki/mMurlocAggroB.mp3
