I have friends in Hong Kong. That is the sort of thing that happens when you live there. One of them is a card-carrying member of the Hong Kong Boating Industry Association. He does not actually own a boat, but he is saving up to buy one. Ask him and he will tell you all about it. Parents have pictures of their children on their phones. Pet owners have videos of their cats knocking things off tables. He has pictures of the boat he wants to buy. It is nice, as boats go.
His girlfriend is a card-carrying member of the American Association for Nude Recreation. She literally has a membership card. She is from Canada, where I would not expect a great deal of recreational outdoor nudity most of the year, but she lives in Hong Kong, where there is even less.
They wanted to rent a boat and find a secluded island for their own naked day. They also wanted some people to join them because renting a decent boat is far from cheap. Lily, Kevin, and I were in. Hong Kong has some beautiful islands, and it always intrigues me how you can live in the city for years and never see most of them. Lily and I recruited Amy, the best massage therapist in all of China, as far as I know. We have all known each other for years.
Lily and Kevin met each other in Canada, long before any of us and long before I ever thought about living in Hong Kong. I met Lily and then Kevin more than ten years ago. I met Amy when she started giving me leg massages nine years ago. We started out professionally, but quickly became friends. I met Sofia about six years ago, immediately after which Sofia and Hu Jian met each other on their own. And since it is a small world after all, and Hong Kong is even smaller, Amy and Hu Jian discovered that their brothers went to school together, though they never crossed paths at the time. Their full biographies are not particularly important. What matters is that we have all been friends long enough that the initial idea of a naked boat day did not repel me. Though I always knew there was a 50/50 chance that it would turn into a regular, clothed boat day.
Lily and Kevin dropped out before anyone paid for the boat. They offered to pay their share anyway since it was a last minute cancellation, but that was completely unnecessary. Though we are all on our summer vacations, Kevin also had work to do. And I think he and Lily were looking forward to their own naked day at the big house, as long as I was out to sea.
That left four people on a boat designed to hold six to eight. I think more space is always a good idea whenever people are on a boat, especially if everyone is naked. We were never going to spend the night, so we never needed to adapt to close quarters. I was in it for the wide open islands anyway.
Hu Jian took care of all the boat logistics. He was the boat person in our group and this trip was his idea. Amy and I met at her house and went down to Kwun Tong together, where Sofia, Hu Jian, and the boat were waiting. The boat was moored in the middle of the water with a bunch of other boats, so we took a smaller boat taxi out to our boat. Hong Kong does not have nearly enough spaces to park all the boats, forcing most of them to park in the water without any kind of dock. That is the main reason Hong Kong has so many typhoon shelters.
From Kwun Tong, we sailed out of Kowloon Bay, into the South China Sea, around Hong Kong Island, and headed west. On a map, it makes more sense to go west through Victoria Harbour and then southwest between Hong Kong Island and Lantau, but that area holds something like 90% of all the boat traffic in Hong Kong. The way we went was faster, required less paperwork, and was more scenic. I suppose if you have never been to Hong Kong, sailing from Kowloon Bay through Victoria Harbour would be the bees knees, but anyone who has lived in Hong Kong for more than a month has seen Victoria Harbour from every angle. The islands south of Hong Kong Island are less frequently explored by pretty much everyone.
Our destination was the Soko Islands, less than 35km southwest of Kowloon Bay. I have no idea how many nautical miles that is. It took us about two hours, but we made a few stops and were in no hurry to get there.
Hu Jian chose the Soko Islands for a few reasons. The islands are easy to get to from Kowloon or Hong Kong Island, and even easier from Lantau, assuming you have your own boat. There are no ferries because they are completely uninhabited. North of Lantau is a rather large airport, freeways, and a lot of commercial and private boats going all over the place. South of Lantau is pretty much nothing but wild islands that most people never visit. One of the islands also has Sofia's favorite beach in Hong Kong. It is not especially large, but the sand is soft and white, and the beach is probably always deserted. There is a tiny pier on the island where we could have parked the boat, but getting to the beach from the pier requires a bit of a hike, and there are no trails. It was much easier to park the boat in the cove and swim to the beach.
Hu Jian was the only one wearing clothes by the time we arrived at the Soko Islands. He claimed to be busy driving the boat, but he was clearly the shy one in our group. At Kowloon Bay, we were all fully clothed. Technically, it is illegal to be nude in any public space in Hong Kong. Inside the cabin of a boat is considered private, while out on the deck is public, even on a large body of water with no other people visible to the naked eye. Go nude on the deck of a boat in the middle of Kowloon Bay and you might get a visit from men in uniforms. Go nude south of Lamma Island and no one will ever know or care. Supposedly, Lamma Island has an unofficial nude beach, but I would think it is too populated. Then again, I know Lantau has a nude beach, and it has 15 times as many people.
Amy and I wore bathing suits at the beginning of our boat trip, but Sofia, as the official nudist, shed her clothes as soon as we were clear of the shipping lanes from Stanley. We parked the boat at a little cove on the southern end of Lamma Island. Our goal was to go swimming and maybe explore the island a little. In the clean water between the island and the boat, Amy and I realized that our bathing suits were unnecessary. Though a few thousand people live on Lamma, they all live on the northern half of the island. While Amy, Sofia, and I floated and Hu Jian manned the boat, we pretty much abandoned the idea of exploring inland. The choice between air drying on the boat deck and putting all of our clothes back on to hike toward civilization and overpriced tourist trinkets in the oppressive humidity was an easy one. Lamma Island is a bit of a haven for artists, expats, and alternative types, but even on the most hippie island in Hong Kong, wearing clothes would have been required. Sofia had the right idea, so we carried on to the Soko Islands.
Tuesday, August 24, 2021
Friday, August 6, 2021
Naked Day 2021 part 1
The Swimming
Have you ever walked around an abandoned Chinese fishing village naked? I suppose I can add that to the list of thing I never even thought about doing until it actually happened.
I have what is probably a not at all unique relationship with nudity. I am comfortable naked. I love being naked outdoors; the more natural the environment, the better. But I do not like to be naked around other people, unless I know them exceptionally well. I am perfectly comfortable with my body. As a dancer, I know it very well. We have been good friends for a long time. I am 30 years old, but could easily pass for 29. I run or bicycle every morning. I go to the gym most nights. Now that I do more choreography than performing, I dance less at work than I used to, and not at all during dress rehearsals and performances, but my typical work day involves far more physical activity than the typical office job. I like to think I am in decent shape. But I do not particularly like being watched.
I have been on stage since childhood, in one capacity or another. But never naked. I feel completely comfortable in front of an audience, and love getting applause. It is addictive. I have absolutely no problem being watched while performing. Performing without an audience is like potatoes without salt. At the same time, I feel nothing but uncomfortable being stared at off the clock.
I grew up around lakes. I come from the Land of 10,000 Lakes. It was not nearly as rural as Little House On the Prairie, but we used to go swimming in one lake or another every summer. Clothing was not always required, when we were too young to know what an abomination our sinful bodies were. Outside of lakes, there were rivers and swimming pools. My family never had a pool in the backyard, but I always knew someone who did. As a child, my best friends had the best pools in the neighborhood. I like to hope that was a coincidence. I spent a healthy percent of my childhood under water. One of my goals in life was always to own a house with a swimming pool. I now own a third of three apartments, all of which have pools on the estate. I don't live in any of them.
Finding a clean swimming pool in Hong Kong is difficult. There are plenty of public pools. None of them are free, as far as I know. All of them have the potential to be toilets. Literally. Seeing what the general public does in Chinese public pools has left me scarred for life. Maybe I am being too hard on them, and it most likely does not happen every day, but more than once is too much.
The big house at Clear Water Bay has a swimming pool. It is professionally cleaned on a regular basis. Most importantly, it is private. At most, I have to share it with two other people, both of whom I know exceptionally well. To me, the best reason to stay at that house is to use the swimming pool. Also to me, swimming with clothes on is ridiculous. If I have access to a clean pool, I am swimming. If it is private, I am swimming naked.
This summer was our tenth anniversary of staying at the Clear Water Bay house. It is also the tenth anniversary of my first visit to a nude beach, though that was in December. Despite living in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, I never went to any nude beaches there. My first nude beach was in Hong Kong, Land of 10,000 Islands. It was a nice little beach on the southern end of Lantau. Like most beaches in Hong Kong, it is almost always deserted. Especially in December.
I like to have at least one naked day whenever I stay at the big house. When we all lived in Hong Kong, it was pretty easy to have a day to myself at the house. We all have different schedules, and never spend every waking minute together, in Hong Kong or Taiwan.
I cannot rationally explain why I always want a naked day at the big house. Obviously, swimming naked is the way to go, and the sun and relatively fresh air on the pool deck feel good against bare skin. A light rain can be nice, too. But inside the house, there really is no difference between clothed and nude. The entire house is climate controlled, there is nothing dangerous about it in that secluded neighborhood, and since I am alone, there are no adult-rated shenanigans afoot. At this point, it might just be more traditional than anything else.
Except this year's naked day at the big house did not happen at the house, or anywhere near Clear Water Bay.
I have what is probably a not at all unique relationship with nudity. I am comfortable naked. I love being naked outdoors; the more natural the environment, the better. But I do not like to be naked around other people, unless I know them exceptionally well. I am perfectly comfortable with my body. As a dancer, I know it very well. We have been good friends for a long time. I am 30 years old, but could easily pass for 29. I run or bicycle every morning. I go to the gym most nights. Now that I do more choreography than performing, I dance less at work than I used to, and not at all during dress rehearsals and performances, but my typical work day involves far more physical activity than the typical office job. I like to think I am in decent shape. But I do not particularly like being watched.
I have been on stage since childhood, in one capacity or another. But never naked. I feel completely comfortable in front of an audience, and love getting applause. It is addictive. I have absolutely no problem being watched while performing. Performing without an audience is like potatoes without salt. At the same time, I feel nothing but uncomfortable being stared at off the clock.
I grew up around lakes. I come from the Land of 10,000 Lakes. It was not nearly as rural as Little House On the Prairie, but we used to go swimming in one lake or another every summer. Clothing was not always required, when we were too young to know what an abomination our sinful bodies were. Outside of lakes, there were rivers and swimming pools. My family never had a pool in the backyard, but I always knew someone who did. As a child, my best friends had the best pools in the neighborhood. I like to hope that was a coincidence. I spent a healthy percent of my childhood under water. One of my goals in life was always to own a house with a swimming pool. I now own a third of three apartments, all of which have pools on the estate. I don't live in any of them.
Finding a clean swimming pool in Hong Kong is difficult. There are plenty of public pools. None of them are free, as far as I know. All of them have the potential to be toilets. Literally. Seeing what the general public does in Chinese public pools has left me scarred for life. Maybe I am being too hard on them, and it most likely does not happen every day, but more than once is too much.
The big house at Clear Water Bay has a swimming pool. It is professionally cleaned on a regular basis. Most importantly, it is private. At most, I have to share it with two other people, both of whom I know exceptionally well. To me, the best reason to stay at that house is to use the swimming pool. Also to me, swimming with clothes on is ridiculous. If I have access to a clean pool, I am swimming. If it is private, I am swimming naked.
This summer was our tenth anniversary of staying at the Clear Water Bay house. It is also the tenth anniversary of my first visit to a nude beach, though that was in December. Despite living in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, I never went to any nude beaches there. My first nude beach was in Hong Kong, Land of 10,000 Islands. It was a nice little beach on the southern end of Lantau. Like most beaches in Hong Kong, it is almost always deserted. Especially in December.
I like to have at least one naked day whenever I stay at the big house. When we all lived in Hong Kong, it was pretty easy to have a day to myself at the house. We all have different schedules, and never spend every waking minute together, in Hong Kong or Taiwan.
I cannot rationally explain why I always want a naked day at the big house. Obviously, swimming naked is the way to go, and the sun and relatively fresh air on the pool deck feel good against bare skin. A light rain can be nice, too. But inside the house, there really is no difference between clothed and nude. The entire house is climate controlled, there is nothing dangerous about it in that secluded neighborhood, and since I am alone, there are no adult-rated shenanigans afoot. At this point, it might just be more traditional than anything else.
Except this year's naked day at the big house did not happen at the house, or anywhere near Clear Water Bay.
Friday, July 30, 2021
The Wettest Drought in 50 Years
Way back in May, before the rainy season started, Taiwan was struggling with its most severe drought in 50 years. The government was thinking out loud about ways to ration water. It looked like we might have to live without indoor plumbing one day each week. That would have been inconvenient. When the drought kept droughting, they started talking about two days a week without water. That sounded entirely unacceptable. Having no water does not mean no water in the bathroom only. It would have also meant no doing laundry or washing dishes. I suppose we could have used bottled water, but that would get expensive pretty fast. Outside of the home, they were going to close all the car washes. Bathing your car is not as important as bathing your body, but my car is new. The idea of not washing it felt wrong. Maybe in ten years we can let ourselves go, but we are still newlyweds.
Then the rainy season started. The drought was washed away, almost overnight. It rained enough to fill the lakes and reservoirs. And it kept raining. It rained enough to flood the lower level streets. Why there is not a better drainage system in a hilly city with annual tropical rain, I have no idea. We are on the coast. Piping rain water into the ocean should be easy. I am lucky enough to live by the river. When it rains for a month or two, all that water flows into the river. Some people live at the bottom of hills. Water tends not to go uphill.
We moved to Taiwan just before the start of the rainy season last year. It looks like it might be raining more this year, but that might only be because of the drought. There could be the same amount of rain as last year, or less, for all I know. The biggest difference for me is that I drive to work. Last year, I took the MRT to work at the beginning of the rainy season. I like rain, and recognize the good it does, especially after a drought. But taking the MRT to work during a monsoon is not ideal. I had to walk in the rain to the station, walk down the wet steps to get into the station, walk up the wet steps to get out of a different station, and walk to my building. I don't know what it is or why, but pretty much every stairway in Taiwan is wrong. They are either too narrow, too crooked, too small or too loose. Getting them wet is not an improvement. The only good thing about all the defective stairs in Taiwan is that I have ample experience with all the defective stairs in China. This is all probably a first world complaint, but falling down stairs, wet or dry, could be hazardous to my career.
Driving to work in the rain is much easier. I get into my car in my apartment building's underground parking and get out in my work's underground parking. My shoes never have to touch wet ground. In fact, I can wear whatever shoes I want, rather than my weatherproof Timberland boots. Driving in heavy rain is more dangerous than walking to the MRT station, but driving in Taiwan is inherently dangerous, regardless of weather conditions.
During the drought, my swimming pool with a gym opened a new gym with a swimming pool. But the pool was closed because of the drought. Once the drought ended, they opened the pool. But it is an outdoor pool, so they immediately closed it due to heavy rain. In July, the sun started to come out. And I say it's all right. It is still the rainy season. Blue skies can turn gray faster than the south seceded. White clouds can turn black faster than Al Jolson. But we have had a few hours here and there without rain.
My problems quickly turned from meteorological to logistical. My preference is to swim at the gym in the morning and exercise later at night. When the swimming pool was closed for the drought, I mostly rode a bicycle or ran in the morning, on the rare mornings it was not raining too heavily. When it rains, I can always ride a fake bike and run on a treadmill at the gym. But I still could not swim. When it stopped raining as much, I thought that would solve everything. But when they opened the swimming pool after the drought, they decided it should only be open from 09:00 to 18:00. That does not work for me at all. My morning ride/run/swim is usually around 05:00. I think the pool should be open whenever the gym is. They disagree. Somehow, I went from a swimming pool with a tiny gym that I never used to a gym with a pool I will rarely use.
It is supposed to rain tomorrow, so I doubt I will do anything outdoors. But at least the worst drought was one of the shortest.
Then the rainy season started. The drought was washed away, almost overnight. It rained enough to fill the lakes and reservoirs. And it kept raining. It rained enough to flood the lower level streets. Why there is not a better drainage system in a hilly city with annual tropical rain, I have no idea. We are on the coast. Piping rain water into the ocean should be easy. I am lucky enough to live by the river. When it rains for a month or two, all that water flows into the river. Some people live at the bottom of hills. Water tends not to go uphill.
We moved to Taiwan just before the start of the rainy season last year. It looks like it might be raining more this year, but that might only be because of the drought. There could be the same amount of rain as last year, or less, for all I know. The biggest difference for me is that I drive to work. Last year, I took the MRT to work at the beginning of the rainy season. I like rain, and recognize the good it does, especially after a drought. But taking the MRT to work during a monsoon is not ideal. I had to walk in the rain to the station, walk down the wet steps to get into the station, walk up the wet steps to get out of a different station, and walk to my building. I don't know what it is or why, but pretty much every stairway in Taiwan is wrong. They are either too narrow, too crooked, too small or too loose. Getting them wet is not an improvement. The only good thing about all the defective stairs in Taiwan is that I have ample experience with all the defective stairs in China. This is all probably a first world complaint, but falling down stairs, wet or dry, could be hazardous to my career.
Driving to work in the rain is much easier. I get into my car in my apartment building's underground parking and get out in my work's underground parking. My shoes never have to touch wet ground. In fact, I can wear whatever shoes I want, rather than my weatherproof Timberland boots. Driving in heavy rain is more dangerous than walking to the MRT station, but driving in Taiwan is inherently dangerous, regardless of weather conditions.
During the drought, my swimming pool with a gym opened a new gym with a swimming pool. But the pool was closed because of the drought. Once the drought ended, they opened the pool. But it is an outdoor pool, so they immediately closed it due to heavy rain. In July, the sun started to come out. And I say it's all right. It is still the rainy season. Blue skies can turn gray faster than the south seceded. White clouds can turn black faster than Al Jolson. But we have had a few hours here and there without rain.
My problems quickly turned from meteorological to logistical. My preference is to swim at the gym in the morning and exercise later at night. When the swimming pool was closed for the drought, I mostly rode a bicycle or ran in the morning, on the rare mornings it was not raining too heavily. When it rains, I can always ride a fake bike and run on a treadmill at the gym. But I still could not swim. When it stopped raining as much, I thought that would solve everything. But when they opened the swimming pool after the drought, they decided it should only be open from 09:00 to 18:00. That does not work for me at all. My morning ride/run/swim is usually around 05:00. I think the pool should be open whenever the gym is. They disagree. Somehow, I went from a swimming pool with a tiny gym that I never used to a gym with a pool I will rarely use.
It is supposed to rain tomorrow, so I doubt I will do anything outdoors. But at least the worst drought was one of the shortest.
Sunday, July 18, 2021
Clear Water Bay 2021
I just got back from Hong Kong. Kevin's boss owns a beautiful house at Clear Water Bay. Every summer or autumn he takes his annual vacation, and almost every summer or autumn, Kevin, Lily, and I stay at the big house. We started going there in July 2011, so this is our tenth anniversary. Though I missed two years. It made a lot more sense to stay at the big house when we lived in Hong Kong, but we seem to still be doing it anyway. It also made sense for boss man to want someone to watch his house while he was away, but now that he lives in Taiwan, who watches the house full time? I have no idea, but it was ours again this summer. Sometimes he goes away in September or October, which is often inconvenient and we cannot all go at the same time. This year, it was late June/early July. That worked out for all of our schedules.
It also made more sense to stay there when we were living in tiny box apartments. The big house is huge, by Hong Kong standards, with 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, an American sized kitchen with a real oven, and an outdoor pool deck with a nice swimming pool and hot tub big enough for six. Only the boss and his wife live there, but it is easily large enough to house eight comfortably.
Our current Kaohsiung apartment is larger than all of our previous tiny box apartments combined. We are three people in a space that could easily hold four. The kitchen has no oven, but it is a real, separate room kitchen; a luxury in Taiwan. Something the Clear Water Bay house has head, shoulders, and torso above our apartment is that pool deck.
I have always liked the swimming pool and hot tub more than the house itself. The big house has a better kitchen, but what we have at home is good enough. I can cook almost anywhere. Swimming requires a pool. My new gym has a swimming pool, but it is only open during the hours I am least likely to go to the gym. Plus, it was closed during the drought and mostly closed for the rainy season. All of my efforts to go swimming in Taiwan are thwarted at every turn, but the Clear Water Bay house is always there.
This is the rainy season in Hong Kong, just like Kaohsiung, but the rain behaves differently. Hong Kong and most of Taiwan are in a humid subtropical climate. Kaohsiung is tropical, though it looks nothing like Tahiti.
Almost 80% of Hong Kong's rain arrives during the summer, but it can and probably will rain at any time on any day of the year. Showers can arrive out of nowhere, last a few minutes, and disappear just as quickly. With a little experience, you can generally tell if the day might see rain or definitely will. In any event, bring an umbrella.
Almost 90% of Kaohsiung's rain arrives during the summer. During the rainy season, it will probably rain every day, though not necessarily all day. There is often a pattern of sunny mornings, gray afternoons, and rainy nights. Or sunny mornings, rainy afternoons, and gray nights. If it is raining in the morning, it will most likely rain all day. During the “dry” season, the sky is far more predictable. The clouds let you know if you can safely leave the house without an umbrella.
There was some rain during our Hong Kong trip, but not enough to keep me out of that pool. We have friends in Hong Kong who also enjoy a clean swimming pool. Most of them are just as undeterred by cloudy skies as I am. When we were younger, we threw a party or two at the big house. When you throw parties at someone else's nicer house in your twenties, they tend to get out of hand. You invite your friends and people you casually know. They invite their friends and people you have never met. Pretty soon, half the party is full of strangers. When you throw parties at someone else's nicer house in your thirties, you invite a few people over and everyone remains clothed and sober.
My personal rule in my advanced old age is to keep my clothes on as much as possible at parties, soirées, and general get-togethers. Under water, however, I have always believed that clothing is an abomination. One of the great benefits of having a private swimming pool on your own private pool deck is that you can wear whatever you want in the pool. But when friends come over, I am courteous enough to respect their customs. Chinese culture is big on modesty and not rocking the boat. Ironically, I have seen more public nudity in one year in Taiwan than ten years in Hong Kong. Political agendas aside, Taiwan is far more Chinese than Hong Kong.
Fortunately, the United States nuked the shit out of one of the Marshall Islands, which inspired a Frenchman to design swimwear that is both legally accepted in much of the world and does not have too much fabric to feel too restricting in the water. And it does not hurt that they go on sale every summer. Most of our guests at the swimming pool were Chinese, so there were more one-piece bathing suits than two-piece bikinis. And the men, for whatever reason, wore giant trunks that were longer than most shorts. Fashion has always been a strange thing to me, and I still find it odd that men's swimwear has enough fabric for a dozen bikinis, while women are legally required to shroud more of their bodies. Even more fortunately, we had no guests at the big house for most of the time we were there. That left me free to swim in the pool as naked as Salacia intended.
This trip was mostly a vacation, but the timing was pretty good. We bought a few apartments in Hong Kong a few months ago. One of them was in the final stage of construction. Kevin and I saw it before we signed anything, but it was unfinished. By the time we arrived in Hong Kong this time, it was ready for inspection, and Lily could finally see it. One of the other apartments was always ready, and the property management company found tenants while we were in Taiwan. We thought about going to see them, but collectively agreed that the family living there could probably do without a visit from the foreigners who own their home. I think never having to personally deal with us is one of the great advantages to having us as landlords.
There is a bit of a plague going around right now, which makes Hong Kong a good, though unadventurous, vacation spot. Hong Kong did exceptionally well in the beginning, especially considering the proximity of the epicenter and the ease with which people from Guangzhou could and did travel into Hong Kong, before they locked Hubei under the dome. There was a spike in July 2020, right after we moved to Taiwan. They had a few calm months before a smaller spike in December/January. The numbers have been pretty low since then. To date, around 200 people have died in Hong Kong. That is not so great for the families of those 200, but nothing compared to crime-ridden, politically corrupt third world countries like India, Brazil, and the United States.
Interestingly enough, Macau has zero deaths from this thing. They must have closed the casinos, which must have trashed the economy. I can go to Macau just as easily as Hong Kong, but without casinos, what would be the point.
It also made more sense to stay there when we were living in tiny box apartments. The big house is huge, by Hong Kong standards, with 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, an American sized kitchen with a real oven, and an outdoor pool deck with a nice swimming pool and hot tub big enough for six. Only the boss and his wife live there, but it is easily large enough to house eight comfortably.
Our current Kaohsiung apartment is larger than all of our previous tiny box apartments combined. We are three people in a space that could easily hold four. The kitchen has no oven, but it is a real, separate room kitchen; a luxury in Taiwan. Something the Clear Water Bay house has head, shoulders, and torso above our apartment is that pool deck.
I have always liked the swimming pool and hot tub more than the house itself. The big house has a better kitchen, but what we have at home is good enough. I can cook almost anywhere. Swimming requires a pool. My new gym has a swimming pool, but it is only open during the hours I am least likely to go to the gym. Plus, it was closed during the drought and mostly closed for the rainy season. All of my efforts to go swimming in Taiwan are thwarted at every turn, but the Clear Water Bay house is always there.
This is the rainy season in Hong Kong, just like Kaohsiung, but the rain behaves differently. Hong Kong and most of Taiwan are in a humid subtropical climate. Kaohsiung is tropical, though it looks nothing like Tahiti.
Almost 80% of Hong Kong's rain arrives during the summer, but it can and probably will rain at any time on any day of the year. Showers can arrive out of nowhere, last a few minutes, and disappear just as quickly. With a little experience, you can generally tell if the day might see rain or definitely will. In any event, bring an umbrella.
Almost 90% of Kaohsiung's rain arrives during the summer. During the rainy season, it will probably rain every day, though not necessarily all day. There is often a pattern of sunny mornings, gray afternoons, and rainy nights. Or sunny mornings, rainy afternoons, and gray nights. If it is raining in the morning, it will most likely rain all day. During the “dry” season, the sky is far more predictable. The clouds let you know if you can safely leave the house without an umbrella.
There was some rain during our Hong Kong trip, but not enough to keep me out of that pool. We have friends in Hong Kong who also enjoy a clean swimming pool. Most of them are just as undeterred by cloudy skies as I am. When we were younger, we threw a party or two at the big house. When you throw parties at someone else's nicer house in your twenties, they tend to get out of hand. You invite your friends and people you casually know. They invite their friends and people you have never met. Pretty soon, half the party is full of strangers. When you throw parties at someone else's nicer house in your thirties, you invite a few people over and everyone remains clothed and sober.
My personal rule in my advanced old age is to keep my clothes on as much as possible at parties, soirées, and general get-togethers. Under water, however, I have always believed that clothing is an abomination. One of the great benefits of having a private swimming pool on your own private pool deck is that you can wear whatever you want in the pool. But when friends come over, I am courteous enough to respect their customs. Chinese culture is big on modesty and not rocking the boat. Ironically, I have seen more public nudity in one year in Taiwan than ten years in Hong Kong. Political agendas aside, Taiwan is far more Chinese than Hong Kong.
Fortunately, the United States nuked the shit out of one of the Marshall Islands, which inspired a Frenchman to design swimwear that is both legally accepted in much of the world and does not have too much fabric to feel too restricting in the water. And it does not hurt that they go on sale every summer. Most of our guests at the swimming pool were Chinese, so there were more one-piece bathing suits than two-piece bikinis. And the men, for whatever reason, wore giant trunks that were longer than most shorts. Fashion has always been a strange thing to me, and I still find it odd that men's swimwear has enough fabric for a dozen bikinis, while women are legally required to shroud more of their bodies. Even more fortunately, we had no guests at the big house for most of the time we were there. That left me free to swim in the pool as naked as Salacia intended.
This trip was mostly a vacation, but the timing was pretty good. We bought a few apartments in Hong Kong a few months ago. One of them was in the final stage of construction. Kevin and I saw it before we signed anything, but it was unfinished. By the time we arrived in Hong Kong this time, it was ready for inspection, and Lily could finally see it. One of the other apartments was always ready, and the property management company found tenants while we were in Taiwan. We thought about going to see them, but collectively agreed that the family living there could probably do without a visit from the foreigners who own their home. I think never having to personally deal with us is one of the great advantages to having us as landlords.
There is a bit of a plague going around right now, which makes Hong Kong a good, though unadventurous, vacation spot. Hong Kong did exceptionally well in the beginning, especially considering the proximity of the epicenter and the ease with which people from Guangzhou could and did travel into Hong Kong, before they locked Hubei under the dome. There was a spike in July 2020, right after we moved to Taiwan. They had a few calm months before a smaller spike in December/January. The numbers have been pretty low since then. To date, around 200 people have died in Hong Kong. That is not so great for the families of those 200, but nothing compared to crime-ridden, politically corrupt third world countries like India, Brazil, and the United States.
Interestingly enough, Macau has zero deaths from this thing. They must have closed the casinos, which must have trashed the economy. I can go to Macau just as easily as Hong Kong, but without casinos, what would be the point.
Sunday, June 6, 2021
Professor Hailey
I taught a university class last week. Obviously, as a visiting lecturer in a single class, I can't call myself professor. I can't even call myself a lecturer. You get no title for one day's work. If anything, I am that lady who came in that one time. Some of the students called me laoshi, but that was more about being polite than anything on my CV.
Am I qualified to teach a university class? Not in the least. And yet, I did so in Hong Kong two or three times. That was because the actual professor of that class wanted someone to come in and explain to her students how screwed up the educational system is in the United States. I was the only American who could communicate with her students that she could find on relatively short notice. Rather than teach the class, I simply talked about my experience with American public education and answered, or tried to answer, about a million questions. I was nothing more than a guest speaker.
On another occasion, I spoke to a different class at the same school about American politics. This was at a time when American politics were considered the most divisive they had been since the Civil War, and yet, compared to today, seem like a quaint and innocent distant past. While I have no interest in discussing American politics with Americans, it can be an interesting subject in a classroom full of Chinese students. Absolutely none of them regurgitated a single talking point from any of their favorite “news” shows. They only used their own words and were open to actually discussing the subject. I don't remember exactly how much I was paid, but I remember thinking that an American teacher would love to get that much money for so little work.
My tenure as a professor in Kaohsiung was something different. An actual professor at my sister's school had to go out of town for a family situation. Rather than cancel her dialectology class that day, she asked me if I could be her substitute. Reasonably, I pointed out that I am neither a professor nor lecturer, have no teaching license or certifications, and have not taken a dialectology class since 2015. I assumed that the university had some form of substitute teacher system in place. Surely, they must do something other than cancel a class whenever the professor is unavailable. But looking at my own time as a student, I cannot remember ever having a substitute teacher after high school. When the professor was out, class was canceled that day.
As a substitute “professor”, all I really had to do was follow the real professor's lesson plan. The book does most of the work if you read the unit, and most of the students came to class prepared. But the lesson plan was written by and for their professor. As someone new and different, the class had a number of questions for me. Fortunately, no one asked if I was at all qualified to teach the class. They probably assumed that since I was standing at the front of a class at their university, I must have the right to be there.
Dialectology is the study of dialects, obviously, and a fascinating subject. I don't know the first thing about most of the languages on this planet, but the one or two languages I know have a wide variety of dialects. Chinese dialects are so varied that some people consider them separate languages. If English has anything in common with Chinese it is the vast number of mutually intelligible, and sometimes unintelligible, dialects around the world. Just as someone from Alabama might have difficulty understanding someone from Scotland, someone from Xinjiang might have difficulty understanding someone from Fujian. The dialects can be wildly different, but the languages are the same, more or less. The people from Xinjiang and Fujian can read the same words, as can the people from Scotland and any literate people from Alabama.
My students for the day were well aware of the differences in Chinese dialects. While they all learned Chinese in Taiwan, many of them had traveled to various parts of China, where almost no one speaks Taiwanese Chinese. Even the few who have never set foot out of their home country have seen movies and TV shows filmed in a hundred different dialects. With so many Chinese people on the planet speaking a language that has existed for thousands of years, the variety of dialects is completely natural.
What the students all seemed surprised to learn was that English has almost as many different dialects as Chinese. They know that it is spoken everywhere the British subjugated the native people, but they also know that it is a new language. When watching English-language movies and TV, they mostly see American shows with actors who learned how to speak in the most generic of General American accents. Even the British and Australian actors on American TV are trained to use a General American accent. Someone with a good ear for accents and dialects can tell you where most of the top Chinese celebrities come from. Despite the hundreds of Australian actors in American movies and TV shows, Americans point to Crocodile Dundee as an example of an Australian accent because everyone else had to master General American. When I was in junior high school, I took a theater class on the Mid-Atlantic accent. I think that one is pretty noticeable, but no one uses it anymore.
Since I am from Minnesota, I speak with a slight Upper Midwestern accent and occasionally use words and phrases like boughten, spendy, skol, you know. This means that when I say dot and daughter, the vowels sound the same, as do bot and bought, stock and stalk. To people in other parts of the United States, those vowels have different sounds. Pin and pen sound completely different to me. Mary, marry, merry all sound the same. Roof has a shorter vowel sound than boot, casserole is hotdish, couch is sofa, cola is pop. To most Americans, Minnesota means the characters from Fargo, but that was obviously an exaggeration of how they speak up north. Most Minnesotans sound like Dakotans. And those of us with theater training can use General American if necessary.
To my Chinese students, everyone who speaks English sounds the same. Just as the students all sound the same to English speakers. To me, they sound Taiwanese, which is a world away from Hongkonger. I'm starting to hear a difference between northern and southern Taiwan, but that could be my imagination. Too many people in Taiwan grow up in one part of the country and go to school in another part. After school, they might go back or stay. All the movement around the country makes it much harder to pinpoint accents and dialects. China is much easier. When you meet someone from Shanghai in Xiamen, you know they are from Shanghai right away.
But the biggest surprise in teaching the class, hands down, was the use of cell phones. Back in my day, phone use was strictly forbidden in most classes. Today, it is their most useful tool. Almost none of the students bought a physical copy of the textbook. They all had it on their phones. It took me a while to get used to everyone staring at their phones when I asked them questions or read bits from the book. As an American, my first thought was that there is no way to know if they are looking at the book or just screwing around on their phones. But I got over that pretty quickly. This was a university class. Every one of them had to earn their right to be there. Though not exactly the most prestigious university in the country, it is competitive enough that coasting through is not an option. This was not a general education class. To most of the students, it was required for their major. Paying attention was in their best interest. Of course, that is true with most classes, but these were not American students. Announcing your laziness and stupidity are not considered cool in Chinese culture.
A few days later, the actual professor told me that the students liked having me as their substitute teacher. Of course, that could simply be a case of something new and different to break up the routine. She asked me if I would be willing to substitute again, if needed. There is no way I could ever make a career of this, especially since I already have a career that takes up a good deal of my time. But I can see myself in front of another class again someday.
Am I qualified to teach a university class? Not in the least. And yet, I did so in Hong Kong two or three times. That was because the actual professor of that class wanted someone to come in and explain to her students how screwed up the educational system is in the United States. I was the only American who could communicate with her students that she could find on relatively short notice. Rather than teach the class, I simply talked about my experience with American public education and answered, or tried to answer, about a million questions. I was nothing more than a guest speaker.
On another occasion, I spoke to a different class at the same school about American politics. This was at a time when American politics were considered the most divisive they had been since the Civil War, and yet, compared to today, seem like a quaint and innocent distant past. While I have no interest in discussing American politics with Americans, it can be an interesting subject in a classroom full of Chinese students. Absolutely none of them regurgitated a single talking point from any of their favorite “news” shows. They only used their own words and were open to actually discussing the subject. I don't remember exactly how much I was paid, but I remember thinking that an American teacher would love to get that much money for so little work.
My tenure as a professor in Kaohsiung was something different. An actual professor at my sister's school had to go out of town for a family situation. Rather than cancel her dialectology class that day, she asked me if I could be her substitute. Reasonably, I pointed out that I am neither a professor nor lecturer, have no teaching license or certifications, and have not taken a dialectology class since 2015. I assumed that the university had some form of substitute teacher system in place. Surely, they must do something other than cancel a class whenever the professor is unavailable. But looking at my own time as a student, I cannot remember ever having a substitute teacher after high school. When the professor was out, class was canceled that day.
As a substitute “professor”, all I really had to do was follow the real professor's lesson plan. The book does most of the work if you read the unit, and most of the students came to class prepared. But the lesson plan was written by and for their professor. As someone new and different, the class had a number of questions for me. Fortunately, no one asked if I was at all qualified to teach the class. They probably assumed that since I was standing at the front of a class at their university, I must have the right to be there.
Dialectology is the study of dialects, obviously, and a fascinating subject. I don't know the first thing about most of the languages on this planet, but the one or two languages I know have a wide variety of dialects. Chinese dialects are so varied that some people consider them separate languages. If English has anything in common with Chinese it is the vast number of mutually intelligible, and sometimes unintelligible, dialects around the world. Just as someone from Alabama might have difficulty understanding someone from Scotland, someone from Xinjiang might have difficulty understanding someone from Fujian. The dialects can be wildly different, but the languages are the same, more or less. The people from Xinjiang and Fujian can read the same words, as can the people from Scotland and any literate people from Alabama.
My students for the day were well aware of the differences in Chinese dialects. While they all learned Chinese in Taiwan, many of them had traveled to various parts of China, where almost no one speaks Taiwanese Chinese. Even the few who have never set foot out of their home country have seen movies and TV shows filmed in a hundred different dialects. With so many Chinese people on the planet speaking a language that has existed for thousands of years, the variety of dialects is completely natural.
What the students all seemed surprised to learn was that English has almost as many different dialects as Chinese. They know that it is spoken everywhere the British subjugated the native people, but they also know that it is a new language. When watching English-language movies and TV, they mostly see American shows with actors who learned how to speak in the most generic of General American accents. Even the British and Australian actors on American TV are trained to use a General American accent. Someone with a good ear for accents and dialects can tell you where most of the top Chinese celebrities come from. Despite the hundreds of Australian actors in American movies and TV shows, Americans point to Crocodile Dundee as an example of an Australian accent because everyone else had to master General American. When I was in junior high school, I took a theater class on the Mid-Atlantic accent. I think that one is pretty noticeable, but no one uses it anymore.
Since I am from Minnesota, I speak with a slight Upper Midwestern accent and occasionally use words and phrases like boughten, spendy, skol, you know. This means that when I say dot and daughter, the vowels sound the same, as do bot and bought, stock and stalk. To people in other parts of the United States, those vowels have different sounds. Pin and pen sound completely different to me. Mary, marry, merry all sound the same. Roof has a shorter vowel sound than boot, casserole is hotdish, couch is sofa, cola is pop. To most Americans, Minnesota means the characters from Fargo, but that was obviously an exaggeration of how they speak up north. Most Minnesotans sound like Dakotans. And those of us with theater training can use General American if necessary.
To my Chinese students, everyone who speaks English sounds the same. Just as the students all sound the same to English speakers. To me, they sound Taiwanese, which is a world away from Hongkonger. I'm starting to hear a difference between northern and southern Taiwan, but that could be my imagination. Too many people in Taiwan grow up in one part of the country and go to school in another part. After school, they might go back or stay. All the movement around the country makes it much harder to pinpoint accents and dialects. China is much easier. When you meet someone from Shanghai in Xiamen, you know they are from Shanghai right away.
But the biggest surprise in teaching the class, hands down, was the use of cell phones. Back in my day, phone use was strictly forbidden in most classes. Today, it is their most useful tool. Almost none of the students bought a physical copy of the textbook. They all had it on their phones. It took me a while to get used to everyone staring at their phones when I asked them questions or read bits from the book. As an American, my first thought was that there is no way to know if they are looking at the book or just screwing around on their phones. But I got over that pretty quickly. This was a university class. Every one of them had to earn their right to be there. Though not exactly the most prestigious university in the country, it is competitive enough that coasting through is not an option. This was not a general education class. To most of the students, it was required for their major. Paying attention was in their best interest. Of course, that is true with most classes, but these were not American students. Announcing your laziness and stupidity are not considered cool in Chinese culture.
A few days later, the actual professor told me that the students liked having me as their substitute teacher. Of course, that could simply be a case of something new and different to break up the routine. She asked me if I would be willing to substitute again, if needed. There is no way I could ever make a career of this, especially since I already have a career that takes up a good deal of my time. But I can see myself in front of another class again someday.
Thursday, May 13, 2021
Burn You Up, Burn You Down
Way back in the olden days of January, I joined a gym near my house. I did not join for the gym. That part of the building was unimpressive. I joined for the swimming pools. Specifically, the lap pool with a dozen lanes, the ample hot tubs, and the water massages.
Before the swimming pool, I would jog or ride a bicycle every morning. I was thinking about buying my own bicycle since I always use the city bikes that are parked all over town. Having my own bicycle would save me NT$40 a day, and even though the city bikes are well maintained, anything I bought would probably be a better quality.
After I joined the gym, I mostly swam every morning, and ran or biked maybe once a week. Buying my own bicycle was no longer a priority. Though I did miss riding along the river in the morning. I love swimming, but the pool was indoors, so riding a bicycle outdoors was always a nice change of pace. And the more I thought about it, the more convenient the city bikes were. When I want to use one, I go to any one of a number of stations, scan it out with my MRT card, and return it to any station when finished. Every bicycle has a locking system, but parking and security are not much of an issue when you only have it with you while riding. I never have to oil chains, find a place to keep it, and best of all, I have never had to fix a flat tire. NT$40 is literally spare change. I have no idea what coffee costs, but NT$40 could buy two bottles of water from 7-Eleven.
Then everything changed. As it often does. The current drought closed the swimming pool, which upset pretty much every member of the gym. Almost no one went there for the exercise equipment. Everyone was in it for the pools. Since we were all members, and we had all paid our fees in advance, the gym was in a sticky situation. Giving everyone their money back would probably destroy the gym financially, and doing nothing was not an option. Taiwanese culture encourages complaining, even more than Chinese culture. Since most of the members were in a high enough tax bracket to usually get what they want, legal action was on the table. The government that forced the gym to close the swimming pools probably would have sided with the members over the gym.
Fortunately for all concerned, they were already working on opening a new facility. The timing of the drought was not ideal, but droughts rarely are.
About two years ago, the company that owns the swimming pools started building a new gym. Everyone agreed that the gym in the pool building was a waste of space, but there was no possible way to add onto the building without the neighbors volunteering to abandon their properties. Instead, they built an entirely new building on a separate site.
The new gym is maybe one hundred times larger. That sounds like a ridiculous exaggeration, but the old gym was tiny and the new one is pretty big. The gym above the swimming pool was no bigger than a standard business hotel gym, with two treadmills, two exercise bikes, some light free weights and a couple of yoga mats. The new gym is five stories, with an entire floor of treadmills and exercise bikes, including a few recumbent bikes. It also has a wide variety of machines for each muscle group, including more than a few machines I have not figured out how to use yet.
Most importantly, there is a swimming pool. It does not have as many lanes as the old pool, but it is long enough for laps. Unlike the old pool, it is outdoors, which might be a challenge in an environment like Taiwan. The fewer hot tubs are smaller and indoors, and segregated by gender. I like that part. Unfortunately, the pool and hot tubs are just as closed by the drought as the old pools. When they designed and built it, there was no drought. By the time the gym opened, they were not allowed to use enough water to fill them. They look like they will be nice to use someday.
The old pool was a quick walk from my apartment. The new gym is a quick drive. So far, there is more than enough parking. That will probably change as membership increases. But I have already found a solution to a future problem that may or may not ever occur. My apartment is close to a river. Along the river are a series of parks with bicycle paths. One particular path can take me from practically my front door to within a block of the gym. There are city bicycle stations all along the river and one in front of the gym. Since the city bikes are free for the first 30 minutes, I can ride to the gym for the same price as walking, and get there much faster. At this point, I see no reason to buy my own bicycle.
Since the new gym is much larger, so are the showers and locker rooms. At the old pool, every member could put a lock on any available locker and leave it there indefinitely. Not having to drag all your crap in every day was pretty convenient. At the new gym, all lockers are expected to be empty by midnight. I have no idea what they do with anything anyone leaves overnight, but I have decided to follow their rules and not find out. Carrying a gym bag to the gym is a pretty standard activity.
Something I could not help but notice right away was the amount of public nudity at the new gym. At the old pool, you could hang out in the locker room all day and never see anything more scandalous than someone in a bathing suit. Everyone kept things in their locker, showered in the shower cubicles and changed in the changing cubicles. At the new gym, there are no changing cubicles. I would assume that most Taiwanese, being a fairly modest and shy people, would change in the showers. Instead, everyone changes at their lockers. And since the segregated saunas are adjacent to the locker rooms, some casually walk from one to the other as naked as dolphins. When I lived in China, I used to say that if you were a 12-year-old boy with the super power to turn invisible, China would be a disappointing place. As it turns out, a Taiwanese gym would be just as good as a 1980s teen movie.
At the old pool, no towels were allowed beyond the locker rooms. I never understood that rule. At the new gym, using towels with the machines is encouraged, though most people walk around without one. Gym etiquette is a little different here than anywhere else I have worked out. Rather than let a towel catch your drippings, everyone lets whatever comes out of their bodies onto the machines. But there is always a spray bottle full of isopropyl alcohol near every machine. Instead of wiping off a machine after use with a towel, everyone sprays alcohol on the machine before use. A wide variety of disinfectants have been pretty much everywhere since the last SARS outbreak, and no one thinks twice about spraying and/or wiping surfaces on a regular basis. I don't know anything about the gym's maintenance schedule, but I have seen employees practically hose down machines with alcohol when not in use.
With the loss of the old swimming pools and the addition of the new gym, I went back to jogging or riding a bicycle outdoors in nature every morning, or at least the closest thing we get to nature around here. And now I go to a real gym at night. Someday, I will be able to swim at night, or in the morning, but for now, I climb onto strange machines and push weights around while listening to music on a telephone. Just as nature intended.
Before the swimming pool, I would jog or ride a bicycle every morning. I was thinking about buying my own bicycle since I always use the city bikes that are parked all over town. Having my own bicycle would save me NT$40 a day, and even though the city bikes are well maintained, anything I bought would probably be a better quality.
After I joined the gym, I mostly swam every morning, and ran or biked maybe once a week. Buying my own bicycle was no longer a priority. Though I did miss riding along the river in the morning. I love swimming, but the pool was indoors, so riding a bicycle outdoors was always a nice change of pace. And the more I thought about it, the more convenient the city bikes were. When I want to use one, I go to any one of a number of stations, scan it out with my MRT card, and return it to any station when finished. Every bicycle has a locking system, but parking and security are not much of an issue when you only have it with you while riding. I never have to oil chains, find a place to keep it, and best of all, I have never had to fix a flat tire. NT$40 is literally spare change. I have no idea what coffee costs, but NT$40 could buy two bottles of water from 7-Eleven.
Then everything changed. As it often does. The current drought closed the swimming pool, which upset pretty much every member of the gym. Almost no one went there for the exercise equipment. Everyone was in it for the pools. Since we were all members, and we had all paid our fees in advance, the gym was in a sticky situation. Giving everyone their money back would probably destroy the gym financially, and doing nothing was not an option. Taiwanese culture encourages complaining, even more than Chinese culture. Since most of the members were in a high enough tax bracket to usually get what they want, legal action was on the table. The government that forced the gym to close the swimming pools probably would have sided with the members over the gym.
Fortunately for all concerned, they were already working on opening a new facility. The timing of the drought was not ideal, but droughts rarely are.
About two years ago, the company that owns the swimming pools started building a new gym. Everyone agreed that the gym in the pool building was a waste of space, but there was no possible way to add onto the building without the neighbors volunteering to abandon their properties. Instead, they built an entirely new building on a separate site.
The new gym is maybe one hundred times larger. That sounds like a ridiculous exaggeration, but the old gym was tiny and the new one is pretty big. The gym above the swimming pool was no bigger than a standard business hotel gym, with two treadmills, two exercise bikes, some light free weights and a couple of yoga mats. The new gym is five stories, with an entire floor of treadmills and exercise bikes, including a few recumbent bikes. It also has a wide variety of machines for each muscle group, including more than a few machines I have not figured out how to use yet.
Most importantly, there is a swimming pool. It does not have as many lanes as the old pool, but it is long enough for laps. Unlike the old pool, it is outdoors, which might be a challenge in an environment like Taiwan. The fewer hot tubs are smaller and indoors, and segregated by gender. I like that part. Unfortunately, the pool and hot tubs are just as closed by the drought as the old pools. When they designed and built it, there was no drought. By the time the gym opened, they were not allowed to use enough water to fill them. They look like they will be nice to use someday.
The old pool was a quick walk from my apartment. The new gym is a quick drive. So far, there is more than enough parking. That will probably change as membership increases. But I have already found a solution to a future problem that may or may not ever occur. My apartment is close to a river. Along the river are a series of parks with bicycle paths. One particular path can take me from practically my front door to within a block of the gym. There are city bicycle stations all along the river and one in front of the gym. Since the city bikes are free for the first 30 minutes, I can ride to the gym for the same price as walking, and get there much faster. At this point, I see no reason to buy my own bicycle.
Since the new gym is much larger, so are the showers and locker rooms. At the old pool, every member could put a lock on any available locker and leave it there indefinitely. Not having to drag all your crap in every day was pretty convenient. At the new gym, all lockers are expected to be empty by midnight. I have no idea what they do with anything anyone leaves overnight, but I have decided to follow their rules and not find out. Carrying a gym bag to the gym is a pretty standard activity.
Something I could not help but notice right away was the amount of public nudity at the new gym. At the old pool, you could hang out in the locker room all day and never see anything more scandalous than someone in a bathing suit. Everyone kept things in their locker, showered in the shower cubicles and changed in the changing cubicles. At the new gym, there are no changing cubicles. I would assume that most Taiwanese, being a fairly modest and shy people, would change in the showers. Instead, everyone changes at their lockers. And since the segregated saunas are adjacent to the locker rooms, some casually walk from one to the other as naked as dolphins. When I lived in China, I used to say that if you were a 12-year-old boy with the super power to turn invisible, China would be a disappointing place. As it turns out, a Taiwanese gym would be just as good as a 1980s teen movie.
At the old pool, no towels were allowed beyond the locker rooms. I never understood that rule. At the new gym, using towels with the machines is encouraged, though most people walk around without one. Gym etiquette is a little different here than anywhere else I have worked out. Rather than let a towel catch your drippings, everyone lets whatever comes out of their bodies onto the machines. But there is always a spray bottle full of isopropyl alcohol near every machine. Instead of wiping off a machine after use with a towel, everyone sprays alcohol on the machine before use. A wide variety of disinfectants have been pretty much everywhere since the last SARS outbreak, and no one thinks twice about spraying and/or wiping surfaces on a regular basis. I don't know anything about the gym's maintenance schedule, but I have seen employees practically hose down machines with alcohol when not in use.
With the loss of the old swimming pools and the addition of the new gym, I went back to jogging or riding a bicycle outdoors in nature every morning, or at least the closest thing we get to nature around here. And now I go to a real gym at night. Someday, I will be able to swim at night, or in the morning, but for now, I climb onto strange machines and push weights around while listening to music on a telephone. Just as nature intended.
Tuesday, May 11, 2021
Walk Through the Fire
Taiwan is in the middle of a drought. The news is calling it the biggest drought in 50 years. But they always say things like that. Every single year, they dramatically announce that one day in January is the coldest day of the year, even though the year just started, and the coldest day of every year is always in January. If some white supremacist “patriot” assassinates Biden, it will be the biggest American assassination of the 21st century. None of the cable news channels will point out that it was also the first presidential assassination of the 21st century.
I would be amazed if the US Secret Service reads this blog, but just in case, I want to point out how ironic I would consider it if Biden were assassinated. Then a black woman would become president. That is not exactly what the white supremacists want, but are any of them astute enough to figure that out? To be safe, they could take out both the president and vice president. That would be dramatic enough to get them the attention their parents obviously never gave them as children. But then the speaker of the house would become president. All those brave patriots might want to hold off on the killing spree, at least until the next election.
Whether our drought is the most dramatic event in the history of the world or a bit of an inconvenience, it has people talking, complaining, and vowing to make changes. Though most of the country is a subtropical forest, the entire west coast was deforested generations ago. The east coast still gets more than enough rain every year, but almost everyone lives on the west coast, and for reasons a lot of people do not understand, there is no system to transfer water from east to west. There used to be a time when the large mountain ranges between the coasts hindered transportation, but 21st century technology must have a way to get water around mountains.
Taiwan is entirely responsible for turning the lush west coast into steel and concrete, but other countries, mostly China and the United States, are responsible for the lower rainfall every year. But as long as today has record profits, who cares about tomorrow, right? We moved to Kaohsiung during typhoon season, so we saw plenty of rain when we first got here, but it has rained little since. It was only when people started talking about the drought that I noticed how seldom it was raining. Since I came from Hong Kong, I liked how I could leave the house without an umbrella. Typhoon season is coming up, so people are expecting more rain soon, but it will have to pour like there is no tomorrow to flood the drought. We need a large typhoon with all of its water to hit us directly, rather than simply pass by and give us its wind.
As is often the case, there will be some changes made because of this drought. Rather than think ahead, the people in charge of this country, just like the people in charge of every country, react to the complaints of their constituents more than they anticipate a disaster and solve it before anyone threatens to vote for someone else. Taiwan has handled this virus issue much better than most countries. But not because the leaders had the foresight to expend considerable resources on a future emergency that might never come. Taiwan's leaders were fully prepared for SARS 2 because of experience gained from SARS 1. If American leaders are smart, they will learn from their current situation and prepare for the next one, just as Taiwan did. If history is any indication, one political party will show the other who is the boss, and screw over the people.
One of the best things about Taiwan is that one political party does not dismantle everything done by another party. If the people in charge now can find a way to prevent future droughts, the other parties will keep everything in place when they take over. But first, someone has to find a way to prevent future droughts.
I would be amazed if the US Secret Service reads this blog, but just in case, I want to point out how ironic I would consider it if Biden were assassinated. Then a black woman would become president. That is not exactly what the white supremacists want, but are any of them astute enough to figure that out? To be safe, they could take out both the president and vice president. That would be dramatic enough to get them the attention their parents obviously never gave them as children. But then the speaker of the house would become president. All those brave patriots might want to hold off on the killing spree, at least until the next election.
Whether our drought is the most dramatic event in the history of the world or a bit of an inconvenience, it has people talking, complaining, and vowing to make changes. Though most of the country is a subtropical forest, the entire west coast was deforested generations ago. The east coast still gets more than enough rain every year, but almost everyone lives on the west coast, and for reasons a lot of people do not understand, there is no system to transfer water from east to west. There used to be a time when the large mountain ranges between the coasts hindered transportation, but 21st century technology must have a way to get water around mountains.
Taiwan is entirely responsible for turning the lush west coast into steel and concrete, but other countries, mostly China and the United States, are responsible for the lower rainfall every year. But as long as today has record profits, who cares about tomorrow, right? We moved to Kaohsiung during typhoon season, so we saw plenty of rain when we first got here, but it has rained little since. It was only when people started talking about the drought that I noticed how seldom it was raining. Since I came from Hong Kong, I liked how I could leave the house without an umbrella. Typhoon season is coming up, so people are expecting more rain soon, but it will have to pour like there is no tomorrow to flood the drought. We need a large typhoon with all of its water to hit us directly, rather than simply pass by and give us its wind.
As is often the case, there will be some changes made because of this drought. Rather than think ahead, the people in charge of this country, just like the people in charge of every country, react to the complaints of their constituents more than they anticipate a disaster and solve it before anyone threatens to vote for someone else. Taiwan has handled this virus issue much better than most countries. But not because the leaders had the foresight to expend considerable resources on a future emergency that might never come. Taiwan's leaders were fully prepared for SARS 2 because of experience gained from SARS 1. If American leaders are smart, they will learn from their current situation and prepare for the next one, just as Taiwan did. If history is any indication, one political party will show the other who is the boss, and screw over the people.
One of the best things about Taiwan is that one political party does not dismantle everything done by another party. If the people in charge now can find a way to prevent future droughts, the other parties will keep everything in place when they take over. But first, someone has to find a way to prevent future droughts.
Friday, April 9, 2021
Lord Of the Land part 3
Choosing each apartment was a different experience. The Hung Hom estate has been open for six years, so we inspected the apartment, toured the grounds, talked to a couple of neighbors, and did everything you would do when renting or buying an apartment.
The Ma On Shan estate is not open yet, but is mostly built. We could enter the apartment, but it was unfinished, as were the landscaping and swimming pool. Since it is incomplete, they had show flats in Tsim Sha Tsui. Obviously, inspecting a show flat would be pointless, but we will be able to inspect the actual apartment once it is complete. We already bought it, but there are legal provisions in place if what we bought does not turn out to be what we get.
The Kai Tak estate is currently a construction site. We could not even set foot on the property. They also had show flats, as well as 3D models and a lot of artist's renderings. Buying an apartment that has not yet been built takes some imagination, but again, if they cannot deliver, we get our money back plus a little extra for our trouble. Some of the richest people in Hong Kong, including politicians, like to buy into new developments. They would never stand for getting robbed, and even though they spend far more than we did, the laws protect all of us.
We have six months from completion date until final inspection date, so Ma On Shan and Kai Tak are going to require two separate trips to Hong Kong. Fortunately, Hong Kong has to let us in no matter which direction the viral winds blow. The only problem is Taiwan. They never have to let us back in, though they most likely would. As long as Hong Kong does not go American, we should be OK.
The developers for the Ma On Shan and Kai Tak estates gave us books full of information on not only our apartment, but every other apartment on site. If, for some strange reason, I want to know the induction hob's brand and model number in Tower 3, 15F, unit D, I could. Even though our apartment is a different floor plan on a different floor of a different tower.
It is a Miele KM6115. I looked it up.
Since we bought the Hung Hom apartment from an estate agent rather than the developer, we only got information on our specific unit and the general estate. We know next to nothing about the other apartments, and since they are several years old, no one else does either. Until the owner puts it on the market.
Legally, the rights and responsibilities of landlords in Hong Kong are more or less the same as the United States. We have to provide a livable space and fix anything that breaks down enough to endanger that. Tenants are responsible for minor cosmetic issues. We can't evict them without cause, which are mostly common sense issues, and they have to pay rent on time. Everyone can haggle and negotiate for whatever they want in the beginning, but once a lease is signed, that is where the authorities look in the event of a disagreement.
Something different is the way Hong Kong handles utilities. Where I come from, they don't turn on the apartment's gas and electricity until you move in and pay the gas and electric company. Here, the electricity is always on. If the apartment is empty, you can turn off the breakers, but the electric company is always supplying juice. That means the owner has to pay the electric bill until someone moves in and takes over. Fortunately, utility bills, in my experience, are far cheaper in China than in Minnesota, mostly because of heat in winter and probably more than a little political bullshit. The water bills in both countries are practically nothing, but ironically, the Ma On Shan water price is slightly more than Kai Tak or Hung Hom, even though Ma On Shan is right next to one of the largest reservoirs.
One thing we will never have to deal with as owners is furniture. Since these are all family apartments, they will come unfurnished. Most families have their own furniture, and even if they do not, they all have their own tastes. The property management company at Hung Hom has a furniture package that renters can choose, but that has nothing to do with us.
How much to charge for rent was an interesting issue. When you look at websites advertising apartments for rent, you see essentially the same apartment at wildly different prices. As it turns out, the property management companies look it up on their spreadsheets and pick the highest number they can find. My first apartment in Hong Kong was in an independent building. I think that owner just picked the price out of a hat. When we were given a price range for comparable units in the Hung Hom estate, we told the property manager to go with the lowest number. That might have been the first time anyone told him to aim low.
Our goal is not to make a profit from rent. That is pretty much impossible. If you buy a ten million dollar apartment and charge $30,000 a month in rent, it would take 30 years to break even. Maybe if you own the entire building, you can make some money off rent, but independent buildings around here tend to have lower rents and the more expensive buildings are in estates that almost no single person could own. And only one of our apartments is ready for tenants. It will be more than a year before the Kai Tak apartment is habitable. Even if the property manager finds someone to move in on the first available day, that is still one year of no income whatsoever. The profit only comes from selling the apartment at the right time. The trick is finding the right time. Everyone assumes the Kai Tak estate will be worth far more after the neighborhood is fully developed, but it is still gambling. The Ma On Shan apartment is almost sure to increase in value, but there is no way to know if the neighborhood will ever become popular. The surest thing is Hung Hom, but since we did not get in on the ground floor, we will never make as much money from that one as we potentially could from the others.
Not that it really matters. We would like to make a few dollars eventually, but we did this to have a financial stake in Hong Kong. We are never going to get rich from any of these properties. To make any real money, we would have to sell them at the right time, buy something else at the right time, and then sell that at the next right time, repeating as necessary. For now, we have reached our goal. As long as we do not lose everything, I am satisfied.
The Ma On Shan estate is not open yet, but is mostly built. We could enter the apartment, but it was unfinished, as were the landscaping and swimming pool. Since it is incomplete, they had show flats in Tsim Sha Tsui. Obviously, inspecting a show flat would be pointless, but we will be able to inspect the actual apartment once it is complete. We already bought it, but there are legal provisions in place if what we bought does not turn out to be what we get.
The Kai Tak estate is currently a construction site. We could not even set foot on the property. They also had show flats, as well as 3D models and a lot of artist's renderings. Buying an apartment that has not yet been built takes some imagination, but again, if they cannot deliver, we get our money back plus a little extra for our trouble. Some of the richest people in Hong Kong, including politicians, like to buy into new developments. They would never stand for getting robbed, and even though they spend far more than we did, the laws protect all of us.
We have six months from completion date until final inspection date, so Ma On Shan and Kai Tak are going to require two separate trips to Hong Kong. Fortunately, Hong Kong has to let us in no matter which direction the viral winds blow. The only problem is Taiwan. They never have to let us back in, though they most likely would. As long as Hong Kong does not go American, we should be OK.
The developers for the Ma On Shan and Kai Tak estates gave us books full of information on not only our apartment, but every other apartment on site. If, for some strange reason, I want to know the induction hob's brand and model number in Tower 3, 15F, unit D, I could. Even though our apartment is a different floor plan on a different floor of a different tower.
It is a Miele KM6115. I looked it up.
Since we bought the Hung Hom apartment from an estate agent rather than the developer, we only got information on our specific unit and the general estate. We know next to nothing about the other apartments, and since they are several years old, no one else does either. Until the owner puts it on the market.
Legally, the rights and responsibilities of landlords in Hong Kong are more or less the same as the United States. We have to provide a livable space and fix anything that breaks down enough to endanger that. Tenants are responsible for minor cosmetic issues. We can't evict them without cause, which are mostly common sense issues, and they have to pay rent on time. Everyone can haggle and negotiate for whatever they want in the beginning, but once a lease is signed, that is where the authorities look in the event of a disagreement.
Something different is the way Hong Kong handles utilities. Where I come from, they don't turn on the apartment's gas and electricity until you move in and pay the gas and electric company. Here, the electricity is always on. If the apartment is empty, you can turn off the breakers, but the electric company is always supplying juice. That means the owner has to pay the electric bill until someone moves in and takes over. Fortunately, utility bills, in my experience, are far cheaper in China than in Minnesota, mostly because of heat in winter and probably more than a little political bullshit. The water bills in both countries are practically nothing, but ironically, the Ma On Shan water price is slightly more than Kai Tak or Hung Hom, even though Ma On Shan is right next to one of the largest reservoirs.
One thing we will never have to deal with as owners is furniture. Since these are all family apartments, they will come unfurnished. Most families have their own furniture, and even if they do not, they all have their own tastes. The property management company at Hung Hom has a furniture package that renters can choose, but that has nothing to do with us.
How much to charge for rent was an interesting issue. When you look at websites advertising apartments for rent, you see essentially the same apartment at wildly different prices. As it turns out, the property management companies look it up on their spreadsheets and pick the highest number they can find. My first apartment in Hong Kong was in an independent building. I think that owner just picked the price out of a hat. When we were given a price range for comparable units in the Hung Hom estate, we told the property manager to go with the lowest number. That might have been the first time anyone told him to aim low.
Our goal is not to make a profit from rent. That is pretty much impossible. If you buy a ten million dollar apartment and charge $30,000 a month in rent, it would take 30 years to break even. Maybe if you own the entire building, you can make some money off rent, but independent buildings around here tend to have lower rents and the more expensive buildings are in estates that almost no single person could own. And only one of our apartments is ready for tenants. It will be more than a year before the Kai Tak apartment is habitable. Even if the property manager finds someone to move in on the first available day, that is still one year of no income whatsoever. The profit only comes from selling the apartment at the right time. The trick is finding the right time. Everyone assumes the Kai Tak estate will be worth far more after the neighborhood is fully developed, but it is still gambling. The Ma On Shan apartment is almost sure to increase in value, but there is no way to know if the neighborhood will ever become popular. The surest thing is Hung Hom, but since we did not get in on the ground floor, we will never make as much money from that one as we potentially could from the others.
Not that it really matters. We would like to make a few dollars eventually, but we did this to have a financial stake in Hong Kong. We are never going to get rich from any of these properties. To make any real money, we would have to sell them at the right time, buy something else at the right time, and then sell that at the next right time, repeating as necessary. For now, we have reached our goal. As long as we do not lose everything, I am satisfied.
Wednesday, April 7, 2021
Lord Of the Land part 2
Kevin, Lily and I, and the bank, now own three apartments in Hong Kong.
Apartment #1 is in Hung Hom, near the Whampoa shopping boat. It was built in 2015 and is up and running, ready for someone to move in. The property management company is already advertising. It is a 3 bedroom/2 bath with a large kitchen, by Hong Kong standards, tiny bedrooms, an open rectangle of a living room/dining room, and outstanding views of Kowloon Bay from the living room and all bedrooms. Since it faces east and has larger than average windows, there is plenty of natural light in the morning, except in the kitchen. No one can possibly build anything between the apartment and the bay, so that view will never be obstructed. Unfortunately, the only balconies are off the laundry room and kitchen, which face inward, toward the neighbor's apartment. Most of the newer buildings are designed that way, so no one can see everyone's laundry from the street. It makes the building look better, which probably increases the property value, so I have no complaints.
This is the largest estate we bought into, with over 4,000 units in two dozen towers. That might seem large, but it pales next to Hung Hom's largest estate, which has over 10,000 units in 88 towers. That was actually my first choice, mostly because I like the neighborhood, but the only apartments available were studios the size of closets and tiny one bedrooms. We knew it had to be at least 3 bedrooms to have any resale value. Instead, we went newer and smaller. As a private housing estate, it has all the usual courtyard/landscaping with water features, indoor playground, clubhouse, gym, a few outdoor swimming pools, underground parking for cars/scooters/bicycles and even visitors. There are a few restaurants and shopping on site, but since this is Hung Hom, the entire estate is surrounded by shopping and food. It is an easy walk to the Whampoa or Ho Man Tin MTR stations, and as a larger estate, there are usually taxis waiting on the main road. It is close to Route 5 and Route 1, which is both convenient for drivers and inconvenient because of the horrendous traffic. They are building a new highway to alleviate some of Route 5's congestion, but it will not connect to the Cross-Harbour Tunnel. I have absolutely no idea about area schools and grocery stores, but the property management company does. I know about a ParknShop maybe a kilometer away, but there is probably something closer.
Apartment #2 is in Ma On Shan, surrounded by several country parks. It is in a brand new estate and will be ready for tenants in a few months. Several apartments were available, but we went with a 4 bedroom/3 bath with a small but nice kitchen, small bedrooms, large living room/dining room, and great views of Plover Cove. Since it faces west, the sunset over the mountains should be beautiful. The living room balcony looks like a great place to sit with a drink and enjoy the view. It is physically possible for someone to build something between the apartment and the view, but that would be a major construction project that takes years. As with the Hung Hom apartment, the laundry balcony faces the neighbors, but this kitchen has an outward window facing east.
This is the smallest estate we bought into, with 500 units in four towers and a few “houses” that are a block of 3 and 4 story apartments. It has less landscaping than the Hung Hom estate and fewer common areas, but they put in a couple of “Italian” water fountains. I have only been to Italy once, so I am far from an expert, but these fountains do not look like what I saw in Rome. There is a covered outdoor playground, clubhouse, a small but nice gym, a curved outdoor swimming pool, a smaller rooftop pool, and ample underground parking. Ma On Shan is in the New Territories and nowhere near Central, but it is one of those up and coming neighborhoods that developers hope will attract people who want to get away from the crowds. With any luck, rich people will move in and drive up the prices. I would not be at all surprised if this apartment brings the most profit after we eventually sell them. It is still in Hong Kong, so there are at least two shopping centers within 2 kilometers, one of which is connected to the nearest MTR station. The estate is close to two beaches, which is not a selling point in Chinese, for some reason.
Apartment #3 is in Kai Tak, near the old airport/now cruise terminal and about 3 kilometers from the Hung Hom apartment. The estate is still under construction and scheduled to open next year, with Phase 1 opening a few months before Phase 2. It is so new that Phase 3 has yet to be announced. Though it does not currently exist, our unit will be a 4 bedroom/3 bath with a nice kitchen, two small bedrooms and two master bedrooms, and a living room/dining room larger than all of the bedrooms combined. One of the master bedrooms will have an unusually large closet and the other will have an unusually large bathroom. Every bathroom will have a bathtub, unlike most Hong Kong apartments. The living room and all bedrooms will face south toward Kowloon Bay, though the view will probably not be nearly as good as the Hung Hom apartment. The master bedroom with the large bathroom will have both south and east facing windows, so that room should get plenty of natural light. The kitchen window will face west and might possibly have views of Symphony of Lights in Victoria Harbour. Maybe.
Phase 1 will have 350 units in two towers and four “houses”. Phase 2, with our apartment, will have 250 units in two towers. Since the old airport height restrictions no longer exist, every new development in the area is going for tall over wide. This is easily our highest apartment, by ten floors. By next year, the estate will have several gardens and water features, an indoor playground/clubhouse, a larger gym than the others, a large outdoor swimming pool with smaller children's pool and jacuzzi, and plenty of parking. Kowloon Walled City Park is a kilometer away to the northwest, Kwun Tong Promenade and the new cruise terminal are 2 kilometers to the southeast, and the Hung Hom Promenade is a little over 2 kilometers to the southwest. Kai Tak and Kowloon Bay are the closest MTR stations. This estate is also near Route 5, but farther away from the Cross-Harbour Tunnel. Kai Tak is largely under construction, but everyone assumes that it will be full of shopping and food just like every other developed inch of Hong Kong. If future trends are anything like current trends, it will mostly be higher end yuppie shopping, which I think has far less character, but is much better for property values.
Apartment #1 is in Hung Hom, near the Whampoa shopping boat. It was built in 2015 and is up and running, ready for someone to move in. The property management company is already advertising. It is a 3 bedroom/2 bath with a large kitchen, by Hong Kong standards, tiny bedrooms, an open rectangle of a living room/dining room, and outstanding views of Kowloon Bay from the living room and all bedrooms. Since it faces east and has larger than average windows, there is plenty of natural light in the morning, except in the kitchen. No one can possibly build anything between the apartment and the bay, so that view will never be obstructed. Unfortunately, the only balconies are off the laundry room and kitchen, which face inward, toward the neighbor's apartment. Most of the newer buildings are designed that way, so no one can see everyone's laundry from the street. It makes the building look better, which probably increases the property value, so I have no complaints.
This is the largest estate we bought into, with over 4,000 units in two dozen towers. That might seem large, but it pales next to Hung Hom's largest estate, which has over 10,000 units in 88 towers. That was actually my first choice, mostly because I like the neighborhood, but the only apartments available were studios the size of closets and tiny one bedrooms. We knew it had to be at least 3 bedrooms to have any resale value. Instead, we went newer and smaller. As a private housing estate, it has all the usual courtyard/landscaping with water features, indoor playground, clubhouse, gym, a few outdoor swimming pools, underground parking for cars/scooters/bicycles and even visitors. There are a few restaurants and shopping on site, but since this is Hung Hom, the entire estate is surrounded by shopping and food. It is an easy walk to the Whampoa or Ho Man Tin MTR stations, and as a larger estate, there are usually taxis waiting on the main road. It is close to Route 5 and Route 1, which is both convenient for drivers and inconvenient because of the horrendous traffic. They are building a new highway to alleviate some of Route 5's congestion, but it will not connect to the Cross-Harbour Tunnel. I have absolutely no idea about area schools and grocery stores, but the property management company does. I know about a ParknShop maybe a kilometer away, but there is probably something closer.
Apartment #2 is in Ma On Shan, surrounded by several country parks. It is in a brand new estate and will be ready for tenants in a few months. Several apartments were available, but we went with a 4 bedroom/3 bath with a small but nice kitchen, small bedrooms, large living room/dining room, and great views of Plover Cove. Since it faces west, the sunset over the mountains should be beautiful. The living room balcony looks like a great place to sit with a drink and enjoy the view. It is physically possible for someone to build something between the apartment and the view, but that would be a major construction project that takes years. As with the Hung Hom apartment, the laundry balcony faces the neighbors, but this kitchen has an outward window facing east.
This is the smallest estate we bought into, with 500 units in four towers and a few “houses” that are a block of 3 and 4 story apartments. It has less landscaping than the Hung Hom estate and fewer common areas, but they put in a couple of “Italian” water fountains. I have only been to Italy once, so I am far from an expert, but these fountains do not look like what I saw in Rome. There is a covered outdoor playground, clubhouse, a small but nice gym, a curved outdoor swimming pool, a smaller rooftop pool, and ample underground parking. Ma On Shan is in the New Territories and nowhere near Central, but it is one of those up and coming neighborhoods that developers hope will attract people who want to get away from the crowds. With any luck, rich people will move in and drive up the prices. I would not be at all surprised if this apartment brings the most profit after we eventually sell them. It is still in Hong Kong, so there are at least two shopping centers within 2 kilometers, one of which is connected to the nearest MTR station. The estate is close to two beaches, which is not a selling point in Chinese, for some reason.
Apartment #3 is in Kai Tak, near the old airport/now cruise terminal and about 3 kilometers from the Hung Hom apartment. The estate is still under construction and scheduled to open next year, with Phase 1 opening a few months before Phase 2. It is so new that Phase 3 has yet to be announced. Though it does not currently exist, our unit will be a 4 bedroom/3 bath with a nice kitchen, two small bedrooms and two master bedrooms, and a living room/dining room larger than all of the bedrooms combined. One of the master bedrooms will have an unusually large closet and the other will have an unusually large bathroom. Every bathroom will have a bathtub, unlike most Hong Kong apartments. The living room and all bedrooms will face south toward Kowloon Bay, though the view will probably not be nearly as good as the Hung Hom apartment. The master bedroom with the large bathroom will have both south and east facing windows, so that room should get plenty of natural light. The kitchen window will face west and might possibly have views of Symphony of Lights in Victoria Harbour. Maybe.
Phase 1 will have 350 units in two towers and four “houses”. Phase 2, with our apartment, will have 250 units in two towers. Since the old airport height restrictions no longer exist, every new development in the area is going for tall over wide. This is easily our highest apartment, by ten floors. By next year, the estate will have several gardens and water features, an indoor playground/clubhouse, a larger gym than the others, a large outdoor swimming pool with smaller children's pool and jacuzzi, and plenty of parking. Kowloon Walled City Park is a kilometer away to the northwest, Kwun Tong Promenade and the new cruise terminal are 2 kilometers to the southeast, and the Hung Hom Promenade is a little over 2 kilometers to the southwest. Kai Tak and Kowloon Bay are the closest MTR stations. This estate is also near Route 5, but farther away from the Cross-Harbour Tunnel. Kai Tak is largely under construction, but everyone assumes that it will be full of shopping and food just like every other developed inch of Hong Kong. If future trends are anything like current trends, it will mostly be higher end yuppie shopping, which I think has far less character, but is much better for property values.
Monday, April 5, 2021
Lord Of the Land part 1
Kevin and I went to Hong Kong on a bit of a business trip. As citizens, more or less, we can go back whenever we want. But since no one is actually a citizen of Hong Kong, we wanted to make sure we kept our citizenship while living in Taiwan.
As permanent residents, we have the “right of abode”, which means we have unrestricted access to enter, live, work, and vote in Hong Kong without visas or any other government approval. Since we live in Taiwan, we will lose that right if we stay out of Hong Kong for three years or more. At that point, we would be given the “right to land”, which retains the right to enter, live, and work, but loses the right to vote. Since Hong Kong will be going through a few political changes in the next decade, we both want to vote as early and often as possible.
The easiest solution is to simply take a trip to Hong Kong every once in a while. The three year clock starts from the last time we leave the country, not from the last time we lived there. But there are rumors that the current system will soon change and people will have to be physically present for at least three to six months at a time, similar to quite a few other countries. Rumors about the Chinese government making one change or another are a dime a dozen, but at the same time, they actually do make sweeping changes with little warning. While this particular rumor might never come true, it could also be officially announced tomorrow.
China also launched a bit of a pandemic in 2019. While it never really affected our ability to travel to and fro, the next one might. There could conceivably come a time when Hong Kong and/or Taiwan blocks entry even to those with the legal right to enter.
Lily does not have to worry about any of this. While she was on a work visa in 2016, she left Hong Kong long enough to lose the visa. Even though she lived in Hong Kong just as long as Kevin, and longer than I did, she only entered in 2016, according to the government. The previous years she lived there stopped counting as soon as she lost her visa. Since it takes at least seven years before anyone can even apply for permanent residency, she would not have been eligible until 2023, had we stayed.
Hong Kong is unique, as far as Chinese cities go. Anyone who is a citizen of any other Chinese city is a Chinese citizen. They can leave their city, or even China, for an entire lifetime and retain their Chinese citizenship. Unless they formally renounce it. But being a citizen of Hong Kong does not make one a Chinese citizen. As such, there are more than a few loopholes for people who want to retain their citizenship, but do not physically live in Hong Kong, for one reason or another. All of those loopholes involve spending money that benefits Hong Kong. A good number of people own businesses in Hong Kong while living elsewhere. As long as their business makes money, they are more than welcome in Hong Kong.
Kevin and I thought about opening a store or restaurant, but those tend to go out of business quickly, and are almost impossible to get off the ground from a distance. If we were in town often enough to run a successful restaurant, we would not need to own a restaurant. We looked into investing in an existing business, but that would only help us if we were the majority owners. Eventually, we learned that owning land is just as good as owning a business, as long as Hong Kong gets their cut. But land in Hong Kong does not come cheap. The old adage “buy more land, they're not making any more” is not at all true in Hong Kong. They are literally creating more land out of the sea. But it is the opposite of cheap.
While Hong Kong may not stretch out very far, it rises up more than most cities. The vast majority live in either a private housing estate or public housing estate. Though every dwelling is generally called a house, almost everyone lives in apartments, many of which are in skyscrapers. Outside of the New Territories, there are few detached houses in Hong Kong. People who own their own houses mostly own apartments. Everyone else rents apartments. Someone else owns them. Kevin, Lily and I are now part of those someone else. We are officially landlords, or at least we will be as soon as we get some tenants. Lily did not have to participate, but as long as we were shopping, she wanted to join in. She stayed in Taiwan because the Qingming holiday only gave her a long weekend, and most of our business was conducted during the week.
Rather than do everything ourselves or go through an estate agent, we hired an estate solicitor. It cost more money upfront, but will probably save us a fortune in the long run. Not only is the solicitor supposed to know all the laws, rules, and regulations, but they have more experience than we do and they are physically in the country. Flying to Hong Kong every time something comes up would not be ideal.
One of the solicitor's first suggestions was that we buy multiple properties at the same time. We always knew we would have to own more than one apartment, but assumed that we would start with one and go from there. In Hong Kong, the stamp duty for first-time buyers is substantially lower than for everyone else. We were always going to get the discount rate with the first property, but got the low rate for everything since we turned in all the paperwork at the same time. We thought that was pretty clever, but apparently, most people do it this way. And just last year, the government lowered the minimum deposit rate for first-time buyers. The real estate market is not at its best right now and they want to motivate potential buyers. We figured we might as well take advantage of that. It is essentially a buyer's market. No one knows when that will change, but everyone knows that prices will skyrocket eventually.
Another useful suggestion was that we only buy apartments in private housing estates rather than independent buildings. Most estates are run by property management companies that handle rent, maintenance, security, and above all, paperwork. That means a small portion of the rent goes to the property management company, but doing all of that ourselves would be a pain in the butt even if we lived in the country. We will most definitely be hands-off landlords. Odds are, we will never meet any of our tenants.
Buying an apartment in a public housing estate is possible, but never really a good idea. It is a terrible investment since the government subsidizes public housing. There really are no opportunities for unscrupulous capitalists to gouge their tenants deeper into poverty. Becoming slumlords was never an option. Not only would we not want to, obviously, but people who rent in private estates tend to be middle class and more likely to go to the authorities when someone threatens their home.
Our solicitor also thought it would be a good idea if at least one of our new apartments was a first-hand property. In Hong Kong, that usually means a building that is still under construction. The downside to a new building is that no one can predict the future market or how many bugs have to be worked out of the system, while you can look at occupancy rates in an established building. The benefit is that Chinese people love everything new. Where we live, in Kaohsiung, new buildings are popping up like weeds. Apartments are staying empty for years because the supply outweighs the demand. In Hong Kong, new apartments are bought and sold before they are even built. Buying directly from the developer rather than an estate agent is supposedly easier, mostly because there is no middleman and fewer people who need to get paid.
Before we signed a single piece of paper, we had to ask ourselves if we could even afford to buy more than one apartment in Hong Kong. The answer, of course, was that we could not. Hong Kong is absurdly expensive, even in a buyer's market with tax breaks and government incentives. Fortunately, Hong Kong also has banks. Hong Kong, in fact, has many banks. I have no idea how many, but if Hong Kong is one of the world's financial capitals, there are probably more than a few. A bonus to getting a bank loan is that if any property developer screws us over, they are also screwing over the bank, which is partly owned by the government. In China, it is in your best interest to not steal money from the government.
As permanent residents, we have the “right of abode”, which means we have unrestricted access to enter, live, work, and vote in Hong Kong without visas or any other government approval. Since we live in Taiwan, we will lose that right if we stay out of Hong Kong for three years or more. At that point, we would be given the “right to land”, which retains the right to enter, live, and work, but loses the right to vote. Since Hong Kong will be going through a few political changes in the next decade, we both want to vote as early and often as possible.
The easiest solution is to simply take a trip to Hong Kong every once in a while. The three year clock starts from the last time we leave the country, not from the last time we lived there. But there are rumors that the current system will soon change and people will have to be physically present for at least three to six months at a time, similar to quite a few other countries. Rumors about the Chinese government making one change or another are a dime a dozen, but at the same time, they actually do make sweeping changes with little warning. While this particular rumor might never come true, it could also be officially announced tomorrow.
China also launched a bit of a pandemic in 2019. While it never really affected our ability to travel to and fro, the next one might. There could conceivably come a time when Hong Kong and/or Taiwan blocks entry even to those with the legal right to enter.
Lily does not have to worry about any of this. While she was on a work visa in 2016, she left Hong Kong long enough to lose the visa. Even though she lived in Hong Kong just as long as Kevin, and longer than I did, she only entered in 2016, according to the government. The previous years she lived there stopped counting as soon as she lost her visa. Since it takes at least seven years before anyone can even apply for permanent residency, she would not have been eligible until 2023, had we stayed.
Hong Kong is unique, as far as Chinese cities go. Anyone who is a citizen of any other Chinese city is a Chinese citizen. They can leave their city, or even China, for an entire lifetime and retain their Chinese citizenship. Unless they formally renounce it. But being a citizen of Hong Kong does not make one a Chinese citizen. As such, there are more than a few loopholes for people who want to retain their citizenship, but do not physically live in Hong Kong, for one reason or another. All of those loopholes involve spending money that benefits Hong Kong. A good number of people own businesses in Hong Kong while living elsewhere. As long as their business makes money, they are more than welcome in Hong Kong.
Kevin and I thought about opening a store or restaurant, but those tend to go out of business quickly, and are almost impossible to get off the ground from a distance. If we were in town often enough to run a successful restaurant, we would not need to own a restaurant. We looked into investing in an existing business, but that would only help us if we were the majority owners. Eventually, we learned that owning land is just as good as owning a business, as long as Hong Kong gets their cut. But land in Hong Kong does not come cheap. The old adage “buy more land, they're not making any more” is not at all true in Hong Kong. They are literally creating more land out of the sea. But it is the opposite of cheap.
While Hong Kong may not stretch out very far, it rises up more than most cities. The vast majority live in either a private housing estate or public housing estate. Though every dwelling is generally called a house, almost everyone lives in apartments, many of which are in skyscrapers. Outside of the New Territories, there are few detached houses in Hong Kong. People who own their own houses mostly own apartments. Everyone else rents apartments. Someone else owns them. Kevin, Lily and I are now part of those someone else. We are officially landlords, or at least we will be as soon as we get some tenants. Lily did not have to participate, but as long as we were shopping, she wanted to join in. She stayed in Taiwan because the Qingming holiday only gave her a long weekend, and most of our business was conducted during the week.
Rather than do everything ourselves or go through an estate agent, we hired an estate solicitor. It cost more money upfront, but will probably save us a fortune in the long run. Not only is the solicitor supposed to know all the laws, rules, and regulations, but they have more experience than we do and they are physically in the country. Flying to Hong Kong every time something comes up would not be ideal.
One of the solicitor's first suggestions was that we buy multiple properties at the same time. We always knew we would have to own more than one apartment, but assumed that we would start with one and go from there. In Hong Kong, the stamp duty for first-time buyers is substantially lower than for everyone else. We were always going to get the discount rate with the first property, but got the low rate for everything since we turned in all the paperwork at the same time. We thought that was pretty clever, but apparently, most people do it this way. And just last year, the government lowered the minimum deposit rate for first-time buyers. The real estate market is not at its best right now and they want to motivate potential buyers. We figured we might as well take advantage of that. It is essentially a buyer's market. No one knows when that will change, but everyone knows that prices will skyrocket eventually.
Another useful suggestion was that we only buy apartments in private housing estates rather than independent buildings. Most estates are run by property management companies that handle rent, maintenance, security, and above all, paperwork. That means a small portion of the rent goes to the property management company, but doing all of that ourselves would be a pain in the butt even if we lived in the country. We will most definitely be hands-off landlords. Odds are, we will never meet any of our tenants.
Buying an apartment in a public housing estate is possible, but never really a good idea. It is a terrible investment since the government subsidizes public housing. There really are no opportunities for unscrupulous capitalists to gouge their tenants deeper into poverty. Becoming slumlords was never an option. Not only would we not want to, obviously, but people who rent in private estates tend to be middle class and more likely to go to the authorities when someone threatens their home.
Our solicitor also thought it would be a good idea if at least one of our new apartments was a first-hand property. In Hong Kong, that usually means a building that is still under construction. The downside to a new building is that no one can predict the future market or how many bugs have to be worked out of the system, while you can look at occupancy rates in an established building. The benefit is that Chinese people love everything new. Where we live, in Kaohsiung, new buildings are popping up like weeds. Apartments are staying empty for years because the supply outweighs the demand. In Hong Kong, new apartments are bought and sold before they are even built. Buying directly from the developer rather than an estate agent is supposedly easier, mostly because there is no middleman and fewer people who need to get paid.
Before we signed a single piece of paper, we had to ask ourselves if we could even afford to buy more than one apartment in Hong Kong. The answer, of course, was that we could not. Hong Kong is absurdly expensive, even in a buyer's market with tax breaks and government incentives. Fortunately, Hong Kong also has banks. Hong Kong, in fact, has many banks. I have no idea how many, but if Hong Kong is one of the world's financial capitals, there are probably more than a few. A bonus to getting a bank loan is that if any property developer screws us over, they are also screwing over the bank, which is partly owned by the government. In China, it is in your best interest to not steal money from the government.
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