Because the shifting bus gears were loud and my ears still stopped up from airline flights day before yesterday, I had a hard time hearing our guide and grasping what he said about the sights we were seeing in Hong Kong.
Luckily I had a pack of gum in my purse. I pulled it out and offered some to my friend Edrie Royals, but she shook her head. Chewing on a thick wad of it cleared my ears enough so I could understand the guide a little better.
Edrie and I were on a cruise to China and Japan. We had spent our first night in a hotel and when this long, full day of touring Hong King was over, she and I would board our ship, the Celebrity Millennium, for an Oriental cruise.
On this day we had already been to the famous Victoria’s Peak where you get an overall view of the city and after that we visited the beautiful Repulse Bay Beach. Now our bus pulled into one of the crowded parking lots of Lantau Island.
Part of the island’s charm are the water buffalo wandering the island as they stroll and meander with the tourists. Along with a crowd of other visitors Edrie and I took pictures of them.
On one of our first stops, we walked up a long flight of concrete steps to the Po Lin Monastery. Sitting opposite the monastery and a must see on a Hong Kong trip is a very impressive outdoor Buddha statue. We viewed the world’s largest bronze Buddha, and then Edrie and I joined a steady stream of walking traffic and visited a nearby quaint fishing village. Shacks and tightly packed stilt houses built over water were lived in by fishermen and their families. We had been told there was very little indoor plumbing and this was easy to believe. Thick, rusty metal pipes ran along the sides, across the open back of these stilted homes and into the gray colored water. The thin, rickety wooden buildings looked like a hard rain and a strong wind could blow them into the sea.
On either side of these shacks, sampans and what someone called junk boats, trawled, bumped and bobbed in the murky waves. For some people these were their homes, they lived and raised families on these boats.
There was a bewitching charm to this traditional fishing village which a guide book said was named Hong Kong’s little Venice. (I had been to Venice years ago - maybe my memory was hazy, but I wasn’t so sure about that comparison).
Edrie and I walked on to a nearby market place, strolling through the alleys and stalls, checking out the vast array of dried fish, meats, and vegetables. Bins filled with water held live fish and other creatures, the likes of which I’d never seen before, and which were being dipped out and sold.
Elderly men played cards, checkers, or some other board games. The village is a feast for the eyes - perhaps not the nose. Besides the fishy smell, I inhaled other unusual aromas; perfumed body scents, overripe fruits, and perhaps - the funeral odor of incense.
Along the streets of the marketplace I noticed many unusual Chinese souvenirs. Now I had a mission: I wanted to buy a decorative accordion player to add to my collection. I have more than 250 of these mementos, from all over the world scattered throughout the house.
I came across none in the stalls and shops, but in front of a curtained off stall, to my surprise I spotted an accordion player; a green ceramic Buddha, about 4 feet tall and 5 feet wide.
There was no way to carry him home, but I wanted a picture. Leaning over and holding my camera out, I draped one arm around Buddha. Before I could snap the picture, moving like a mechanical windup toy, Miss Selfie, a sharp-featured lady I’d already encountered several times and whom I’d nicknamed Queen Selfie, bustled in front of me, plastered on a fake smile and shoved.
I almost landed in Buddha’s lap.
Queen Selfie tossed her head back, and quickly snapped several poses, her head tilted as if Buddha was speaking to her.
“Lady,” I pushed myself up. “I’m from Mississippi. And —” But she had swung her head and pranced away as I said, “my family tree...”
“Don’t let her get to you,” Edrie laughed. “You’ve already said it. She thinks she’s a queen.”
“You’re right.” I closed my camera. “It looks like she’s mostly getting a lot of close ups of her nostrils. And she has big ones.”
Edrie checked her watch. “It’s time for us to rejoin our group. Jet lag’s caught up, and I’m kind of glad to say, this day’s almost over.”
It was with sweet relief when a short while later, our bus pulled into the docking area and we boarded our ship.
That night, instead of going to one of the restaurants for dinner, Edrie and I opted for the upstairs OceanView buffet so we could eat quickly and hit the sack early.
In one of the food lines, my ears still stopped up, once again I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and began chewing.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear? Waving a plate of Mongolian beef, noodles, and mushrooms, Miss Selfie broke in front of me. I swept my hand and arm out in a ‘have at it your highness gesture’, and stepped back. Queen Selfie leaned over, licked her fingers, and began shoving bread around on a large tray, searching for some special piece she desired.
As she bent forward and lifted out a slice of Chinese raisin bread, her plate was close to my face. For a moment I was tempted to open my mouth, push with my tongue and drop a gray gum wad into a mound of murky colored mushrooms.
Of course I wouldn’t do that, though. I’m from Mississippi. I’m responsible for what I do, unless I’m a queen.
My nostrils are not big enough.
