Le Beaujolais Nouveau est Arrivé

As you probably know, visiting Macau is—for me at least—one of the greatest things about living in Hong Kong. The former Portuguese colony, a mere forty miles or so from the SAR, is easily accessible and full of interesting things to do. Macau is now internationally known for its glittering casinos, but for centuries, it was a thriving trading port—and the first European colony in Asia—where spices and other goods passed on their voyage from East to West. Unlike Hong Kong, where the need to provide for the future mandated the unfortunate destruction of many monuments of the past, Macau has miraculously managed to preserve huge sections of its history. Walking around the old city is like strolling through a nineteenth century picture postcard somehow come to life. And I love to soak up all the character of this gem of a place.

Last night, one of my favorite Macau events took place. The local Alliance Française puts on an annual fête to celebrate the release of the Beaujolais nouveau, the first of the year's grapes to be turned into wine. Although Beaujolais nouveau itself is rarely exceptional, it does offer oenophiles their first taste of what's to come when more prestigious regions release their wines over the course of the season. And it's a great excuse to have a little celebration.

So I caught the ferry over and hopped on the number 12 bus to the party. My friend Christina was joining too, but because she couldn't get off work early, I figured it made sense for me to go down first so I'd have some extra time in Macau. The event is held in the courtyard of the Albergue SCM, which is tucked away up some side streets and therefore pretty difficult to find if you don't know where you're going. Surprisingly, after a short wander around the charming quarter, I found it relatively easily. But when I approached the woman seated at the table and asked for a ticket, she told me the party had reached capacity and no more tickets were being sold! I begged and pleaded but to no avail. She said there were no exceptions.

Dejected, I wandered around some more, found a payphone, called Christina (who was already en route) to give her the bad news, and made plans to instead meet her on the steps of the ruins of Saint Paul's, Macau's most famous site. Having been to the party two years in a row, I was so looking forward to my third go. And Christina was also excited for it, having been part of our crew for last year's installment. But we decided to make the best of it and still have a good night.

Strolling around the old cobblestone streets, past reminders of a colonial heritage infused with distinctly Asian accents, we both perked up. (A tasty Portuguese egg tart from a local shop made this even easier.) Macau was still a great place to be, and the clear, cool night was perfect. We sat down at Restaurant Platao, a Portuguese place with a charming patio, up a side alley just off Senado Square. We ordered a bottle of wine, some bread and baked eggplant stuffed with cheese, and we lingered there until they told us they were closing and we had to leave.

And afterwards we just wandered some more, back to Saint Paul's and then up to the ancient fortress that caps a nearby hill. I'd never seen this part of Macau—usually packed with thousands of tourists—so empty. A few locals were chatting with one another on benches or jogging along the path, but it felt like we had the magical place all to ourselves.

Then we had an idea, perhaps inspired by that bottle of wine we had at the restaurant: make our way back towards the Beaujolais party and find some way to get in. So when we approached the Albergue and nobody was manning the entrance, we just waltzed on by, found a (nearly) full bottle and grabbed two empty glasses. We were in.

Sitting in the courtyard, with the moss-covered trees and din of French conversation in the background, we chilled out for an hour or so. In the end we had made it to our party after all. True, the music had stopped by the time we arrived and many party guests had begun filtering out, but we really didn't mind. It was a great development to what had already turned out to be a wonderful evening.

Slowly, lights began turning off, and eventually it became clear that it was again time to leave. So we grabbed some vin-to-go, plopped down on the steps in front of the Church of Saint Lazarus, and basked in the moonlit, floodlit, old world glories of Macau. Although the night had gone decidedly different from how we had expected it to go, it proved that if you just roll with the punches, things always seem to find a way of working out.

Four Years in Asia!

Continuing the tradition of posing an entry on the anniversary of my arrival in Hong Kong, back on this day in 2009, I'd just like to write a bit about my feelings on this fourth return of November 9th. Last year on this date, my departure was imminent. It seemed possible, even probable, that my third anniversary in Hong Kong would prove to be my last. Presciently, a couple of weeks later, the night before I actually moved to Singapore, I reflected on my Hong Kong experience on this blog, and (perhaps in a moment of wishful thinking) stated: "I also don't think my Hong Kong story is quite over yet." Here I am one year later, and my Hong Kong story is indeed continuing. And I am delighted.

I'm a little hesitant with my phrasing here. Considering I spent a sociable amount of time in both Singapore and the United States between November 27th, 2012, and September 18th, 2013, I guess it's a qualified "four years in Hong Kong" I'm commemorating today. Then again, the longest I stayed away from the SAR during my stint in Singapore was a mere six weeks. And some of my visits back here stretched over a month.

My trip home to the States lasted just about three months, but Hong Kong itself, from an immigration standpoint, considers a foreigner's time to "restart" only after an absence of six months or more. (After seven years, one becomes a "permanent resident" and no longer needs to renew one's work visa every couple of years.) So I'm fine with calling the last year a pleasant hiccup and leaving it at that. Bring on year number five!

To say that Hong Kong has changed my life is a masterpiece of understatement. Before accepting a job out here, Asia rarely crossed my mind. I loved to travel, and I suppose some day my curiosity would have eventually brought me out this far. But to be lucky enough to have been sent here as a twenty-two year old, to begin my career, to meet some of the most incredible people I've ever encountered, and to have the ability to travel around this fascinating region, was certainly a lucky draw for me. And the funniest thing about it is that it really was mostly luck. I never angled to find a job here; a job found me. I accepted that offer because I liked the idea of going overseas, and, in all honesty, because there really weren't any other offers around. I'm still out here now because I think I love this city, and this region, more than anywhere else in the world.

So I'm again thanking my lucky stars for the incredible adventure of a lifetime that continues to this day!

A second tradition of these "anniversary posts" seems to be the recounting of my recent Halloween exploits, both lame and brilliant.

Halloween, as you know, awkwardly fell on a Thursday this year. I say "awkwardly" because in Hong Kong, people seemed confused by the timing. "Nobody celebrates Halloween in November," I was told. "The party night will be the Saturday before." But still from another source, I heard, "The weekend immediately after Halloween is closer to the actual holiday. That will be the big one." And of course, there was the Thursday night itself. It seemed like three costumes were in order.

But life is busy. I didn't put sufficient time or planning into my outfits. Luckily, the "fancy dress chest" in our apartment is pretty impressive: a collection of hats, wigs, chains, robes, vests, toy guns and knives, paint and other assorted items, gathered from all manner of celebrations over the past four years. That first Saturday night sneaked up on my like a bandit. I had to raid the chest and put something together in a whirlwind ten minute session. I threw on Remco's old purple wig from Clue 2011's Professor Plum disguise, a pair of cheap shades, Vivian's cowgirl hat from March's Rugby Sevens, and a strange bathrobe who's origins are so murky I can't really offer any further information.

In LKF that night, it was clear I was in costume. But dressed as what? That was another matter. And by the time I finally made it home, both the wig and hat were lost completely to the night while the glasses remain in a useless, vegetative state.

Halloween night itself required another quick remedy for poor planning. Sarah went as a wicked witch, and I wore an old American Revolution-era three cornered hat, ghoulish face paint (which we didn't realize was glittery until Sarah had already applied it to half of my face), some chains and a pirate's gun. I was ready to tell people I was a victim of "some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War," to borrow the words of Washington Irving, but nobody actually asked.

And Friday night, I went as the Big Bad Wolf to my Villanova friend Christina's Little Red Riding Hood. When Christina first asked me to be her partner, I decided I'd go as a modern day Wolf (of Wall Street) in a business suit. The only bit of any costume I actually wound up buying this year was my creepy wolf's mask, which I picked up on Pottinger Street a few hours before the Friday night parties. My French buddy Romain invited me to a rooftop bash in Causeway Bay, on a sick terrace overlooking Victoria Park. And after Little Red arrived significantly later, we hopped in a cab and went to a second apartment party with her friends in TST. So in all, over three nights' parties (not to mention all those rooftop horror movies) it was a fun and memorable Halloween.

So, as of today, I've spent as long in Hong Kong as I did in high school and Villanova, which is certainly hard to believe. And I know it's a dull cliché, but the time has certainly flown, perhaps even faster than my four years at college! Still life, in short, is good. Good friends, good food, good parties, good weather, good fun. And, perhaps my favorite thing about living in Asia, life is always an adventure. Cheers to you Hong Kong! Thanks for the past four years, and for whatever is left to come!

The October Stories

October, in my opinion, is an all-around great month, no matter where in the world you happen to be. In the States, I love the autumn leaves, apple and pumpkin flavored treats and classic horror movies played on television. In Hong Kong, the days of high humidity are a thing of the past, and the weather is—in a word—perfect. Still hot enough during the day to don shorts, flip flops and a t-shirt, bask in the sunshine on a sandy beach or sail on the water in a junk boat, yet complete with cool, balmy breezes and the occasional night or two where a light sweater isn't unwelcome. 

It's been a great October here so far, reaffirming my hypothesis. I've discovered some new gems around town, relished the return of my items that had been sitting in storage for nearly a year, and entertained guests from out of town. And with Halloween just around the corner, I'm excited for what's left of October 2013.

The first weekend of the month was particularly memorable. Friday afternoon, I caught the jetfoil to Macau with Mongia and tried my best to turn a profit at roulette. This resulted, of course, in dismal failure that was, somehow, still loads of fun.

Then on Saturday afternoon, I attended the once-a-year blessing of the animals at Saint John's Cathedral in Central. In honor of the feast of Saint Francis of Assisi, churchgoers are invited to bring their four-legged, furry friends into the sanctuary for a beautiful service of song and prayer. There must have been about twenty dogs scattered around the pews, in addition to eight or ten cats, a couple of tankfuls of fish and some hamsters. Every now and then, there would be some canine accompaniment to the hymns, but things always seem to go surprisingly smooth otherwise.

The following morning, Sunday, I woke up early and headed to Quarry Bay Park with my friend Sarah to watch the annual Cross Harbour Swim. In the olden days, swimmers jumped into Victoria Harbour in Tsim Sha Tsui and vigorously made their way to Central. Then, in 1978, the waters became too polluted for the government to allow the event to take place. Over the next thirty-three years, environmentalists raised awareness and instituted new policies that lead to a cleaner harbor. And in 2011, the pollution level was once again acceptable for the major event, and it was resumed. 

I was unable to watch the first two years' races, but I made sure I wouldn't miss it a third time, and drafted Sarah as my spectator buddy. I was genuinely surprised at the size of the crowd that gathered on such an early Sunday morning. And watching the athletes make there way across the channel from Lei Yue Mun to Quarry Bay was very cool. 

I was even more surprised by the ages of some of the swimmers! I am not exaggerating when I say that some of them could not have been more than ten years old. Although I felt kind of ashamed of myself for my own dismal level of physical activity, it was certainly impressive to see so many people take part in the event. And I was glad to be able to show my support.

As close to actually participating in the Cross Harbour Swim as I'll probably ever come

After the swim, Sarah and I took the tram to Tai Hang, my new favorite neighborhood in Hong Kong. Located near the Tin Hau MTR behind Causeway Bay, the area has a winning assortment of local and Western shops and eateries, and although I'd spent a bit of time there before, it was even more impressive than I had remembered. 

Quaint restored apartment building in Tai Hang

We wandered around for awhile trying to pick a spot to eat. None of the Western places seemed to be open, but few of the Chinese places seemed to have available space or English menus. Finally we spied one tiny place on the corner of King Street and Brown Street and decided to give it a go. "Point and hope," we call it, when we grab a table, point at the dishes other people seem to be enjoying and hope for the best.

In this case, someone up there was smiling down on us. We took our seats and looked around. At first, nobody seemed to acknowledge our presence, but there was an old man making something a few feet away. A couple of minutes later, a local lady named Mabel approached to ask if she could share our sidewalk table, and we made a bargain with her: she could sit with us if she would tell us what was good and order on our behalf!  

This opened the door to a great meal. She was a very friendly lady, and she explained that this was one of the very last remaining spots in Hong Kong where the rice noodle is home made, by that old man (who must be in his seventies). He's been running the place for decades, and his family helps out by waiting the tables. Every once in awhile, Mabel told us, she drives from her home in the New Territories just to eat here. So she ordered the house specialty for us, and of course, the food was delicious. (I even went back by myself a week or so later for a second helping.) This type of restaurant is called a dai pai dong, and they can be some of the best bets in town. Unfortunately, many, including this one, don't even have English names, but they sure are great finds. 

After breakfast, I finally accomplished something I'd been meaning to do for years. I say it with some embarrassment, but I'd never actually registered for a Hong Kong library card. In fact, I'd not actually set foot inside the imposing Central Library in Causeway Bay, or any other Hong Kong library for that matter. We corrected this that morning, and I checked out a copy of Ray Bradbury's The October Country, a collection of short stories someone or other had posted on Facebook, a year or so back, was appropriately chilling reading material for this time of year. One of the cool things about Facebook is that someone from your past, maybe someone you hardly ever knew, can post something that just hits you at the right moment. I don't know if I would have ever stumbled upon The October Country had it not been for a random post that got stuck in my brain, but I'm certainly enjoying making my way through the collection. So thanks, whoever you were, for the suggestion! 

We had a nice wander around Victoria Park, just across the street from the library, afterwards. I really like the park, with its vivacious picnickers, tall palms and the regal statue of Queen Victoria, originally displayed in Statue Square, moved out of Hong Kong due to the Japanese Occupation during World War II and transported to its current location when the park was created in the 1950s.

My Happy Valley rooftop is my favorite reading locale, and it's also perfect for another of my favorite October activities: rooftop horror movies. With the return of my belongings came the return of the projector and sound system, and I've enjoyed watching Dracula and Hocus Pocus, among other October-appropriate films, on a sheet stretched across our clothesline. A movie a night is my goal as the month finishes off.

Another of my big October memories for 2013 has to be the visit of my friends from Singapore, Jacinda and Christine. They were in town from a Friday night through a Tuesday evening, and we had a blast: nights out in Lan Kwai Fong and Wan Chai, loads of dumplings and Hong Kong french toast, a movie at the Director's Club, a trip to Stanley, a nighttime visit to the Peak, and my first trip to Lantau's Big Buddha since May 2011, complete with a cable car ride in the glass-floored Crystal Cabin, which I had never done before! And dogs. Lots and lots of dogs.

A Saint Bernard at Stanley Plaza

It was a packed string of days, but it was just plain awesome. I always feel like I love Hong Kong best when I show it off, so to speak. And showing it off to Christine and Jacinda was certainly a blast. 

Hong Kong French Toast Break at the Mido Café in Yau Ma Tei

There was a lot of laughter and a few tears (Christine's iPhone was snatched that first night in LKF—"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Singapore anymore..."), but all in all, I'd say a good time was had by all. Jacinda got loads of shopping done, Christine got a taste of Hong Kong's nightlife, and I got to revisit some of the places I love best here. 

This past weekend was yet another good one. Sarah was baptized on the beach in Deep Water Bay, with her visiting mother and friends looking on. She's been getting more and more involved with a church in Wan Chai called the Vine, and decided with her mom in town from England, it would be a fitting time for the ceremony. 

Baptism in the sea!

Afterwards, I headed back to Happy Valley with another christening guest named Annalisa, an American who has lived here for the past fifteen years and is fluent—yes fluent—in Cantonese. We stumbled upon a protest in Wan Chai (where the bus from the beach dropped us off), and wound up having to walk back to Happy Valley because traffic was so disrupted.

Protest stopping traffic in Wan Chai

And as we rounded the racecourse, we decided to pop in for the last couple of races. Normally, weekend races are held in Sha Tin, but for some reason, on very rare occasions, a weekend race is held in the Valley, and there was no way I was missing it. Annalisa, who had never set foot in a track before in her life, of course won money in the first three races we witnessed that afternoon. Oh, beginner's luck! I only hope I haven't created a gambling monster! 

Weekend race meeting in the Valley

I've also managed to reconnect with my former neighbor Sindi, the sweet Chinese lady who lived two doors away on the eighteenth floor of Tonnochy Towers back in my Tollochee Doe days. One afternoon I went back up and rang her bell to see if she was still around. She promptly took me out for delicious dim sum, lent me a CD of Mandarin pop songs and invited me to one of her choral concerts. I love people like Sindi because they can really unlock a part of Hong Kong normally inaccessible to foreigners. 

She calls me her gweilo brother, and I look forward to many more meals and adventures with her and all my other friends in Hong Kong as the year enters its final stage. Here's hoping "the November Stories" are as fun as the October ones!

Back in the Place I Love Most

A little over a week ago, I flew back to the Pearl of the Orient (or as I've now started calling Hong Kong, Neverland), just in time for the Mid Autumnal Festival and a lackluster T8 in the form of Typhoon Usagi. Good timing indeed. There were a few weeks while I was home in the US where I got a little scared I might never be back here. Irrational paranoia really, but human beings aren't always rational creatures.

Anyway, being back feels marvelous, and I'm basking in all Hong Kong's glories: tram rides, Chinese food feasts, visits to the Peak, crossings on the Star Ferry, hours spent on my Happy Valley rooftop, and aimless gambols around Wan Chai and Sheung Wan, every step reconfirming that this is where I want to be.

I got my haircut at the Barber Shop within my first twenty-four hours, the humidity here necessitating it. I was feasting on dan dan and xiao long bao at Crystal Jade by day two. And by the time the weekend rolled around, having caught up with old friends and even made a couple of new ones, it started to feel like I had my old life back. And I couldn't be happier.

I'm ready to state flat out and hands down that Hong Kong is my favorite place in the world. Being away for three months made me realize just how much I need this place. I've loved it pretty much from the beginning, as the litany of posts on this blog attests, but I've gotten to a point now where I literally think I might be addicted to it. Living in Singapore wasn't a problem—it's simple enough to just hop on a cheap four hour flight here—but being so far away in the States wasn't as easy. And I'm glad to be back.

Enjoying the beautiful weather, I even sleep on our roof some nights!

If all goes according to plan now—and that's a significant if—I could be back in the SAR for good. I'm kicking some ideas around my head that might allow me to stay here, although there's nothing really concrete to talk about yet.

In the meantime, I'll just have to settle for this form of paradise and hope for the best!

Summer Wind

I heard a commercial this afternoon saying, "Summer is almost over." I can't believe that Labor Day is only a mere week away. I forgot how short the season is back on the East Coast. In Hong Kong, "summer" can last from March through November. Singapore, only ninety miles from the equator, is in a sort of perpetual summer, with hardly a day far off eighty-eight degrees and full humidity. Honestly, I can't even say I've been particularly hot on any given day since I've been home.

But it's been a fun summer. Since I got back from Chincoteague, I've again been filling my free time with mini-adventures in New York City and suburban Jersey. One of my favorite Manhattan summer traditions is the weekly al fresco movie in Bryant Park. I made it to three this year, seeing A Foreign Affair, The Women, and, last week's grand finale, E.T. Surrounded by the neighboring towers, with lights in the trees and the New York Public Library standing proud in the background, the park is a perfect setting for the event.

I also enjoyed chilling out in the park after work with friends, waiting for the movie to start. We brought in pizza and other food and watched as the sky darkened and the crowds filed in. Before the movie proper, they always showed a vintage Looney Tunes short, featuring the likes of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd.

And this year, Magnum Ice Cream was one of the series' sponsors and operated a pop-up booth in the park selling delicious ice cream bars, dipped before your eyes in either dark or milk chocolate, and topped with your choice of deluxe toppings, like sea salt, toasted coconut, crushed caramel, blue sesame seeds, honey roasted almonds and pretzels. Although E.T. finished off the series as far as the films are concerned, I know I'll be back in the park before summer is over, if only to indulge in one last Magnum bar at the temporary gem.

The Lawn at Bryant Park before A Foreign Affair, with the Library in the background

Of course, there's plenty more than free outdoor movies to keep me busy in New York. One night, a colleague guest bartended at McFadden's on 3rd Avenue and invited the company. There was the Happy Hour of the Three Pauls a couple of weeks ago, where a group of mostly Nova '09 alumni (including three with the same first name) met up for a few drinks on a Wednesday night after work. There was the Indian dinner with my friend Riva, who I hadn't seen since she left Hong Kong over a year ago.  And a memorable night out on picturesque Stone Street, around the corner from my office. Yes, it's been great catching up with so many old friends over the course of the summer.

The Happy Hour of the Three Pauls 

  

One of the other brokers on my desk, named Grace, was actually born and bred in Hong Kong, and one Thursday about two weeks ago, she took me and three other coworkers to dinner at Shanghai Café in Chinatown. We had my favorite xiao long bao, the soupy pork-filled dumplings that were one of my favorite foods in Asia, and that I sincerely missed in my American life. Although the Chinatown version were a notch below the ones I first fell in love with at Crystal Jade, it's nice knowing that while I'm home, I don't have to go far to find them. And wandering around Chinatown before and after the meal, I realized that my pangs of Asian homesickness can be easily remedied. Why did I wait so long to go there?

Not all the adventures are in the city though. One Wednesday night I took my train a few stops past home, alighting at Red Bank instead of Matawan, to catch a screening of the original Raiders of the Lost Ark in the restored Count Basie Theater with my dad. A free showing of one of the most popular movies of all time in memory-filled Red Bank (near where I went to high school) was a great mid-week celebration. A pair of other Wednesdays, I stopped in Journal Square in Jersey City on the way home, where a Farmer's Market dishes out fresh baked goods and produce with the art deco Loew's Jersey movie palace in the background.

 

But some of the nicest, most relaxing nights, were ones when I didn't embark on any adventure at all: the nights I made a beeline for the PATH train and headed back home as early as I possibly could. TCM, the movie channel, began showing vintage Johnny Carson interviews on Monday nights, usually a bundle of five, introduced by Conan O'Brien and featuring some of America's most legendary personages: Ronald Reagan, Mary Tyler Moore, Neil Simon, Shelly Winters, Fred Astaire, Bette Davis, Jonathan Winters and George Burns. I was only vaguely familiar with Carson before that first night I watched the interviews, but I became a devoted fan almost immediately. Although it was only for about a month, I hope positive feedbacks leads to this becoming a Monday night mainstay. I also forgot how much I enjoy watching shows like Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune. I'm glad to have them back in my life again.

Weekends, too, are mostly spent in Jersey. I had this sort of idea that I'd be out late in the city Friday and Saturday nights and just wind up crashing on friends' couches. Honestly, though, I enjoy gallivanting around New York during the week and find myself spending my weekends with my family. On most Fridays, I take the ferry from Pier 11 to Hoboken—a welcome respite from the standard first leg of my commute home on the crowded PATH train—and catch the New Jersey Transit train from the beautiful Hoboken Terminal that gets me to Matawan pretty early.

A shot of Lower Manhattan I took from the Hoboken ferry one Friday afternoon

Earlier today, for example, I drove down to Monmouth Executive Airport in Wall, New Jersey, where the Collings Foundation was showcasing three WWII-era aircraft as part of their Wings of Freedom national tour. The airworthy planes make their rounds across the country, where they are then opened for the public to explore. Learning about the history of the planes and maneuvering through their narrow passages was a very cool way to spend my Sunday.

                                                                                            

Making it especially cool was the high number of veterans touring the planes with their children and grandchildren. One such man behind me in line was telling about how he had been on the last combat mission of the war, on August 15th, 1945, just before the Japanese surrendered. What an opportunity to learn firsthand about such a significant era of our nation's history.

Of course, living in Jersey and working in Manhattan means that I'm spending a lot of time on a train. Commuting, in the beginning, was my least favorite part of the day. But over the nearly three months I've been home, I've not only grown to tolerate the commute, I've actually started to relish it. Over three-and-a-half years in Hong Kong and Singapore, I only found the time to read a mere handful of books. Since I've been home, I've actually read more than all the time I was overseas. That hour-and-fifteen-minute window in each direction has given me ample time to hit the books again. 

But the thing I like the most about working out of our New York office is the very social environment. People think of business as being very individual, sitting alone in a cubicle with no contact with other human beings. Our office is completely the opposite. Basically, there are two desks in the room where I work. (A desk is a term for a group of people who sit near one another and trade similar securities. Contrary to its singular grammatical form, a desk—in the financial sense of the word—is actually made up of several physical desks pushed together, or, sometimes, a few feet apart from each other.) Each broker on a desk has at least one telephone and several computer screens each with different purposes.

The first desk in my office is the high grade corporate bond desk, trading mostly domestic bonds issued by companies, where I trained back in 2009 before moving to Hong Kong. The second is the emerging markets desk, specializing in debt from up-and-coming economic powers mainly in Latin America, further subdivided between EM corporates (debt issued by foreign companies) and EM sovereigns (debt issued by foreign governments). While I'm home, I sitting with the emerging markets sovereign brokers.

It is a very noisy environment. People are constantly on the phones trying to put together trades. Of course, there are lulls in the trading action, especially during these slower summer months. But when this happens, people wind up talking with their neighbors or even across desks. There are televisions on all day playing CNBC, with complete coverage of the markets, major developments and what is going on in the world. This is often a good catalyst for conversation and keeps us all up to date with current events. Discussion topics cover everything, from politics to entertainment to food. It is not rare for there to be ten different conversations going on at once; it is just as common for there to be one communal conversation between all fifteen or so people.

Just as quickly as the lull started, it can turn into action. Imagine my customer calls me to say he is looking to buy one million Brazilian government bonds at a specific price. This is where coordination comes into play. I would then shout out to the desk what bonds I am looking for, and, along with my colleagues, start making phone calls and using Bloomberg to try to find another customer who is able to sell these bonds. You see, the desk works together on the trade, and having eight brokers on the hunt, so to speak, means the desk is eight times more likely to find a seller, and, hopefully, arrive at a price at which to trade.

These past months, I've been getting invaluable experience working on an uber-active desk. The shouting back and forth of prices, the dissemination of information, the camaraderie amongst the fifteen or so brokers in the one room: all something I never really got in Hong Kong and Singapore. I know when I am back building up the desk, I have a great example to follow, and I look forward to it.

So, as I said, although I can't believe the summer is almost over, I've definitely found a nice balance between keeping busy and staying relaxed. It's been a positive experience so far, and I'm looking forward to more memorable experiences while I'm stateside.