Happy Leap Day from Hong Kong! I returned from Bangkok a couple of hours ago and am preparing to host a rooftop gathering to celebrate this once-in-four-years occasion. I'm stocked up on gin, vermouth, Grand Marnier and lemons, the essential ingredients for the Leap Year Cocktail, invented for a bash put on by London's famous Savoy Hotel on this date in 1928. I discovered the recipe in a cocktail book my friend Hannah gave me as a Christmas present our sophomore year at Villanova. And I've done my best to bring it out of hibernation quadrennially.
But my city is in a state of panic due to the ongoing coronavirus epidemic that is escalating into a nightmare of global proportions. In fact, upon my return to Hong Kong after Chinese New Year and the work week in Vietnam and Indonesia that immediately followed it, I found myself going about my daily life in a place that was noticeably changed.
I've lived in Hong Kong for more than a decade, and I've seen ups and downs. I was six years late for SARS, of course, but I know the stories told by the Old China Hands who've been here much longer than myself. And the opinion has been practically unanimous that Hong Kong has never seen anything quite like this current epidemic.
Perhaps the saddest thing to me is that trying times normally bring out the best in communities. In the midst of terrorist attacks, devastating natural disasters, and even economic downturns, newspapers are often filled with anecdotes about citizens helping ease the burden on their neighbors and bringing people together. But, in Hong Kong at least, the coronavirus has brought out the worst in us. Selfish hording of daily necessities, viscous arguments on social media, even literal fights in stores to procure hand sanitizer and face masks.
While I was away, my colleagues asked if I could help to find surgical masks overseas, since the supply in our own city quickly flew off the shelves as the commodities almost immediately became unobtainable (or, when available, absurdly expensive).
Now, I have my own opinions about these masks and how (and how not) to use them. According to most medical professionals, it seems they are far from effective in preventing healthy people from catching the disease. Moreover, if used incorrectly, they can actually increase your chances of catching it, due to improper hygiene. Some say they also give a false sense of security, which might cause you to let your guard down, failing to properly take other precautions. But more importantly, since they are greatly helpful in keeping sick people from spreading things further and in protecting doctors sand nurses in a clinical setting, it seems silly to horde or waste them when one is healthy, thus limiting access to those who desperately need them.
Yes, keeping them out of the hands of the ill or the medical community just seems idiotic to me. But I know the local people in Hong Kong went through a devastating experience back in 2003, and I've tried to always be mindful of this as I've gone about life over the past weeks. Thus, in both Saigon and Jakarta, I tracked down a couple packs of masks to bring back with me, and I know the gesture was greatly appreciated. I even picked up a permanent cloth mask for myself in Cambodia (meant for bikers who wish to keep residue from the dusty roads out of their respiratory system), which I've taken to wearing in public places when the situation has dictated.
In Hong Kong, everybody seems to using them. I would say 98% of the population on the streets has a masked face. And we've been taking other recommended precautions as seriously as possible. I don't think I've ever washed my hands so many times in short succession in my life, and I've been lathering up with hand sanitizer almost every time I encounter a bottle.
I've spent most of my days in the office as normal, but many people are voluntarily working from their laptops at home. It's pretty common to hear people complain that they're going stir crazy and getting cabin fever from not leaving their flats. One friend even has to get director approval if she wishes to enter the office!
Perhaps the oddest side effect of this virus on Hong Kong was a panic that lead to runs on toilet paper in many shops. Somebody started a rumor that since most of our supply comes from Mainland China and the government was shutting the border to prevent the spread of the disease, we'd soon run out of the stuff. Of course, this was just a lie, as the closure of the border has no effect on the importation of goods through cargo channels. But gullible people went crazy.
Luckily, my apartment was well stocked before this all started, so I never had to go through hoops to procure a few rolls. But I have friends who had to line up for hours to get theirs. This wasn't because there was an actual shortage, mind you, but rather because idiots were panic buying scores of rolls, taking them off the shelves quicker than the supermarkets could re-stock them.
In one insane episode, there was even an armed toilet paper robbery in Kowloon, where some guys held up a shop owner and ran off with nearly a thousand Hong Kong dollars worth of the product. It was front page news. Let the absurdity of that sink in for a moment.
Luckily, most cinemas have remained open, while taking extra precautions. For example, many theaters have implemented alternate row seating, increasing the spacing between patrons. You are also required to don a mask and undergo a temperature check upon entry. Oddly, since the concession counters are still open and nobody is walking around checking, once seated, you can simply remove the mask and enjoy your film. But you can't get in without showing that you have one!
I've caught quite a few good flicks lately, including Jojo Rabbit the day after it won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, Magnificent Obsession screened on Valentine's Day at the Cinematheque over in Yau Ma Tei, and an old Japanese classic called A Wife's Heart, shown as part of a retrospective of Mikio Naruse's oeuvre.
I also spent a day with friends on the island of Tung Lung Chau, a tiny little outcrop with a few beaches and restaurants. It was great to enjoy the glorious weather and explore a location I'd never visited, in spite of the decade of Hong Kong life I now have under my belt.
Of course, many of the precautions being taken are for the good of the community, and I can't complain about them. Schools have been closed since before Chinese New Year, and the date for their re-opening has now been pushed back two or three times.
The Hong Kong Jockey Club has not cancelled its race meetings. But what it has done is restricted entry to horse owners and their guests only, shutting down the grandstands and offsite betting locations. So I haven't been able to partake in my mid-week visits to Happy Valley or enjoy Sha Tin Sundays for a long while.
Similarly, the churches have continued celebrating mass and other services. But they have not opened their doors to parishioners. Instead, the priests and clergy members have proceeded as usual before empty pews, while the services have been filmed and streamed online for the public to view.
Sadly, the Rugby Union has made the decision to postpone the Sevens until October, while the Film Festival Society is pushing their springtime extravaganza back to summer. And there have been scores of concerts, screenings and other events that have been halted.
That there are even whispers of the Tokyo Olympics suffering the same fate is almost inconceivable to me.
Of course, the knockoff effect of all of this is that the city feels deserted, even dead, at times. There is a plus side to this, inasmuch as you can usually easily get seated at a restaurant without any reservation during what would normally be considered peak times. But the empty eateries and bars can be slightly depressing. And, needless to say, if things continue like this for much longer, many of these places will go out of business, leaving a stain on Hong Kong's social fabric for the foreseeable future.
Another effect of the virus has been incredibly clear weather. Factories across the border have been shut since before Chinese New Year in late January. Flights and vehicular traffic across the SAR have all been massively scaled back. And, so, the air is cleaner than I recall in years and the view from the Peak might be about as spectacular as I've ever seen.
Still, I don't think you'll blame me for getting on a plane and heading off somewhere a bit more lively to escape the dull social scene that has descended upon my city over the past weeks.
My colleague (and very close friend) Kevin and I were both asked to fly to our Bangkok office for meetings from Wednesday through Friday last week, but I decided to jet down earlier. I landed on Sunday and spent three days with Martin and Mongia before venturing up to the capital.
My friends live just south of Pattaya in a beautiful apartment near the beach. Upon landing, I made a beeline straight to their pad, where Mongia had lovingly prepared a traditional Tunisian dinner, including my favorite brique a l'oeuf and delicious pasta with lamb.
Early the next morning, we linked up with their neighbors Dennis and Ploy, with whom we drove down to Koh Chang, one of Thailand's most famous islands. We spent the next two days enjoying beach life, eating delicious food, and, of course, drinking tons of Chang and Singha. We stayed at a lovely little resort called the Siam Bay, which had a marvelous position overlooking the water, and I'm so grateful I got to experience a little taste of this magical place.
It is always a pleasure to spend time in Bangkok, and I'm forever grateful that we have such a nice office there, where I am often called to return for a meeting or training session or some other work-related task. Like my last visit in November, this one was a bit on the short side, but I made the most of it.
I arrived on Ash Wednesday, which was, in and of itself, a great quirk of timing, because it meant I actually got to attend a service at the historic Christ Church up the road from our office, which would have been impossible had I been in vigilant Hong Kong. I was very grateful I was able to be a part of one of my favorite religious events of the year. But with only three short nights to spend with my amazing colleagues, you can bet it was straight to the bar for yours truly to meet up with them after its conclusion, ashes and all!
On Thursday after work, our Bangkok-based colleague Luisa joined Kevin and me for the most amazing Thai dinner at Soul Food in Thonglor, and then we went to the Commons for a drink. We even capped the evening off with a tuk tuk ride back to Sathorn, blasting music as we cruised the streets in the country's most iconic mode of transportation.
Still, the mega-highlight of my trip was lunch on Friday. You see, I've been trying to work in a midday visit to the Mandarin's signature French restaurant Le Normandie for several years now, but one blasted reason or another has kept me from doing so.
But I was determined this time. I enlisted Luisa, whose husband Felix has worked for the food and beverage department of Mandarin Oriental for the past ten years, to help book the best table in the house, and he also clearly had a word with the two-star Michelin chef and the restaurant manager, who both ensured we were treated like royalty during our lunch. And it was a feast to remember.
Le Normandie not only has those two Michelin stars but also an enviable position overlooking the Chao Praya River from the seventh floor of the historic wing of the hotel. The food was to die for, a five course tasting menu that included a shrimp dish prepared tableside by Chef Arnaud himself!
The set lunch is a steal of a deal, and the staff definitely went above and beyond to give us special treatment. The head sommelier graciously offered Luisa and I complimentary glasses of red wine, slightly naughty during a work lunch, but there was no way we were turning them down. And, at the meal's conclusion, they brought us out five decadent desserts, when the regular menu is only meant to include one per diner.
The view out over the river traffic was heavenly, the setting almost impossibly elegant, the service top-notch and the food divine. I was flat-out wowed by every aspect of what turned into a three-hour affair. And I sincerely hope my introductory visit to Le Normandie is only the first of many.
It's fitting that in February 2010, I journeyed to Thailand for the first time, to visit Erin and Emily on that inaugural Chinese New Year trip. And here I am, ten years later in February 2020, still savoring all the joys this incredible country has to offer.
I flew back earlier today, on Emirates, which I must say, really impresses me every single time. The food, the drinks, the comfort of the seat, the friendliness of the crew and the range of the entertainment options all leads to a tip top flight. Usually I'm ready to hop off a plane and jump right into wherever it is I'm going. When I fly Emirates, I pray that there is air traffic and we'll get stuck circling for hours so I can continue to enjoy the experience.
But land we did. So now, I'm back in panic city, the land of face masks and empty streets. As March, normally a very memorable and busy month here, gets ready to make its entrance, I pray things begin to go back to normal and Hong Kong returns to its former self. And I hope that all of my friends and family, no matter where you are, stay safe and healthy while we try to collectively make it through this challenging time.
But my city is in a state of panic due to the ongoing coronavirus epidemic that is escalating into a nightmare of global proportions. In fact, upon my return to Hong Kong after Chinese New Year and the work week in Vietnam and Indonesia that immediately followed it, I found myself going about my daily life in a place that was noticeably changed.
I've lived in Hong Kong for more than a decade, and I've seen ups and downs. I was six years late for SARS, of course, but I know the stories told by the Old China Hands who've been here much longer than myself. And the opinion has been practically unanimous that Hong Kong has never seen anything quite like this current epidemic.
Perhaps the saddest thing to me is that trying times normally bring out the best in communities. In the midst of terrorist attacks, devastating natural disasters, and even economic downturns, newspapers are often filled with anecdotes about citizens helping ease the burden on their neighbors and bringing people together. But, in Hong Kong at least, the coronavirus has brought out the worst in us. Selfish hording of daily necessities, viscous arguments on social media, even literal fights in stores to procure hand sanitizer and face masks.
While I was away, my colleagues asked if I could help to find surgical masks overseas, since the supply in our own city quickly flew off the shelves as the commodities almost immediately became unobtainable (or, when available, absurdly expensive).
Now, I have my own opinions about these masks and how (and how not) to use them. According to most medical professionals, it seems they are far from effective in preventing healthy people from catching the disease. Moreover, if used incorrectly, they can actually increase your chances of catching it, due to improper hygiene. Some say they also give a false sense of security, which might cause you to let your guard down, failing to properly take other precautions. But more importantly, since they are greatly helpful in keeping sick people from spreading things further and in protecting doctors sand nurses in a clinical setting, it seems silly to horde or waste them when one is healthy, thus limiting access to those who desperately need them.
Yes, keeping them out of the hands of the ill or the medical community just seems idiotic to me. But I know the local people in Hong Kong went through a devastating experience back in 2003, and I've tried to always be mindful of this as I've gone about life over the past weeks. Thus, in both Saigon and Jakarta, I tracked down a couple packs of masks to bring back with me, and I know the gesture was greatly appreciated. I even picked up a permanent cloth mask for myself in Cambodia (meant for bikers who wish to keep residue from the dusty roads out of their respiratory system), which I've taken to wearing in public places when the situation has dictated.
In Hong Kong, everybody seems to using them. I would say 98% of the population on the streets has a masked face. And we've been taking other recommended precautions as seriously as possible. I don't think I've ever washed my hands so many times in short succession in my life, and I've been lathering up with hand sanitizer almost every time I encounter a bottle.
I've spent most of my days in the office as normal, but many people are voluntarily working from their laptops at home. It's pretty common to hear people complain that they're going stir crazy and getting cabin fever from not leaving their flats. One friend even has to get director approval if she wishes to enter the office!
Perhaps the oddest side effect of this virus on Hong Kong was a panic that lead to runs on toilet paper in many shops. Somebody started a rumor that since most of our supply comes from Mainland China and the government was shutting the border to prevent the spread of the disease, we'd soon run out of the stuff. Of course, this was just a lie, as the closure of the border has no effect on the importation of goods through cargo channels. But gullible people went crazy.
Luckily, my apartment was well stocked before this all started, so I never had to go through hoops to procure a few rolls. But I have friends who had to line up for hours to get theirs. This wasn't because there was an actual shortage, mind you, but rather because idiots were panic buying scores of rolls, taking them off the shelves quicker than the supermarkets could re-stock them.
In one insane episode, there was even an armed toilet paper robbery in Kowloon, where some guys held up a shop owner and ran off with nearly a thousand Hong Kong dollars worth of the product. It was front page news. Let the absurdity of that sink in for a moment.
Luckily, most cinemas have remained open, while taking extra precautions. For example, many theaters have implemented alternate row seating, increasing the spacing between patrons. You are also required to don a mask and undergo a temperature check upon entry. Oddly, since the concession counters are still open and nobody is walking around checking, once seated, you can simply remove the mask and enjoy your film. But you can't get in without showing that you have one!
I've caught quite a few good flicks lately, including Jojo Rabbit the day after it won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, Magnificent Obsession screened on Valentine's Day at the Cinematheque over in Yau Ma Tei, and an old Japanese classic called A Wife's Heart, shown as part of a retrospective of Mikio Naruse's oeuvre.
I also spent a day with friends on the island of Tung Lung Chau, a tiny little outcrop with a few beaches and restaurants. It was great to enjoy the glorious weather and explore a location I'd never visited, in spite of the decade of Hong Kong life I now have under my belt.
Of course, many of the precautions being taken are for the good of the community, and I can't complain about them. Schools have been closed since before Chinese New Year, and the date for their re-opening has now been pushed back two or three times.
The Hong Kong Jockey Club has not cancelled its race meetings. But what it has done is restricted entry to horse owners and their guests only, shutting down the grandstands and offsite betting locations. So I haven't been able to partake in my mid-week visits to Happy Valley or enjoy Sha Tin Sundays for a long while.
Similarly, the churches have continued celebrating mass and other services. But they have not opened their doors to parishioners. Instead, the priests and clergy members have proceeded as usual before empty pews, while the services have been filmed and streamed online for the public to view.
Sadly, the Rugby Union has made the decision to postpone the Sevens until October, while the Film Festival Society is pushing their springtime extravaganza back to summer. And there have been scores of concerts, screenings and other events that have been halted.
That there are even whispers of the Tokyo Olympics suffering the same fate is almost inconceivable to me.
Of course, the knockoff effect of all of this is that the city feels deserted, even dead, at times. There is a plus side to this, inasmuch as you can usually easily get seated at a restaurant without any reservation during what would normally be considered peak times. But the empty eateries and bars can be slightly depressing. And, needless to say, if things continue like this for much longer, many of these places will go out of business, leaving a stain on Hong Kong's social fabric for the foreseeable future.
Another effect of the virus has been incredibly clear weather. Factories across the border have been shut since before Chinese New Year in late January. Flights and vehicular traffic across the SAR have all been massively scaled back. And, so, the air is cleaner than I recall in years and the view from the Peak might be about as spectacular as I've ever seen.
Still, I don't think you'll blame me for getting on a plane and heading off somewhere a bit more lively to escape the dull social scene that has descended upon my city over the past weeks.
My colleague (and very close friend) Kevin and I were both asked to fly to our Bangkok office for meetings from Wednesday through Friday last week, but I decided to jet down earlier. I landed on Sunday and spent three days with Martin and Mongia before venturing up to the capital.
My friends live just south of Pattaya in a beautiful apartment near the beach. Upon landing, I made a beeline straight to their pad, where Mongia had lovingly prepared a traditional Tunisian dinner, including my favorite brique a l'oeuf and delicious pasta with lamb.
Early the next morning, we linked up with their neighbors Dennis and Ploy, with whom we drove down to Koh Chang, one of Thailand's most famous islands. We spent the next two days enjoying beach life, eating delicious food, and, of course, drinking tons of Chang and Singha. We stayed at a lovely little resort called the Siam Bay, which had a marvelous position overlooking the water, and I'm so grateful I got to experience a little taste of this magical place.
It is always a pleasure to spend time in Bangkok, and I'm forever grateful that we have such a nice office there, where I am often called to return for a meeting or training session or some other work-related task. Like my last visit in November, this one was a bit on the short side, but I made the most of it.
I arrived on Ash Wednesday, which was, in and of itself, a great quirk of timing, because it meant I actually got to attend a service at the historic Christ Church up the road from our office, which would have been impossible had I been in vigilant Hong Kong. I was very grateful I was able to be a part of one of my favorite religious events of the year. But with only three short nights to spend with my amazing colleagues, you can bet it was straight to the bar for yours truly to meet up with them after its conclusion, ashes and all!
On Thursday after work, our Bangkok-based colleague Luisa joined Kevin and me for the most amazing Thai dinner at Soul Food in Thonglor, and then we went to the Commons for a drink. We even capped the evening off with a tuk tuk ride back to Sathorn, blasting music as we cruised the streets in the country's most iconic mode of transportation.
Still, the mega-highlight of my trip was lunch on Friday. You see, I've been trying to work in a midday visit to the Mandarin's signature French restaurant Le Normandie for several years now, but one blasted reason or another has kept me from doing so.
But I was determined this time. I enlisted Luisa, whose husband Felix has worked for the food and beverage department of Mandarin Oriental for the past ten years, to help book the best table in the house, and he also clearly had a word with the two-star Michelin chef and the restaurant manager, who both ensured we were treated like royalty during our lunch. And it was a feast to remember.
Le Normandie not only has those two Michelin stars but also an enviable position overlooking the Chao Praya River from the seventh floor of the historic wing of the hotel. The food was to die for, a five course tasting menu that included a shrimp dish prepared tableside by Chef Arnaud himself!
The set lunch is a steal of a deal, and the staff definitely went above and beyond to give us special treatment. The head sommelier graciously offered Luisa and I complimentary glasses of red wine, slightly naughty during a work lunch, but there was no way we were turning them down. And, at the meal's conclusion, they brought us out five decadent desserts, when the regular menu is only meant to include one per diner.
The view out over the river traffic was heavenly, the setting almost impossibly elegant, the service top-notch and the food divine. I was flat-out wowed by every aspect of what turned into a three-hour affair. And I sincerely hope my introductory visit to Le Normandie is only the first of many.
It's fitting that in February 2010, I journeyed to Thailand for the first time, to visit Erin and Emily on that inaugural Chinese New Year trip. And here I am, ten years later in February 2020, still savoring all the joys this incredible country has to offer.
I flew back earlier today, on Emirates, which I must say, really impresses me every single time. The food, the drinks, the comfort of the seat, the friendliness of the crew and the range of the entertainment options all leads to a tip top flight. Usually I'm ready to hop off a plane and jump right into wherever it is I'm going. When I fly Emirates, I pray that there is air traffic and we'll get stuck circling for hours so I can continue to enjoy the experience.
But land we did. So now, I'm back in panic city, the land of face masks and empty streets. As March, normally a very memorable and busy month here, gets ready to make its entrance, I pray things begin to go back to normal and Hong Kong returns to its former self. And I hope that all of my friends and family, no matter where you are, stay safe and healthy while we try to collectively make it through this challenging time.
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