I should be packing...don't tell

In about three weeks, a very tired traveler will walk through the door of my apartment. Now, I want to make things as pleasant as possible for her, so there will be...

-clean sheets on the bed for when she crashes
-tidy right angles and parallel lines to soothe her travel-worn sensibilities (except for the couch which has a new diagonally-oriented location that I love)
-clean floors so she can enjoy being barefoot again
-no dust bunnies or dirty dishes for her to clean
-a neatly folded blanket on the couch for an afternoon nap
-Christmas decorations still up for her to enjoy (I can't help it; I like them too much)
-lentil stew in the freezer waiting to be reheated when she's hungry
-ice cubes and a full jug of water for when's she's thirsty
-clean clothes, especially pajamas, in the closet

Have I forgotten anything?

Just to mention that I can't wait to be leaving tomorrow to go home. My flight leaves at 7:10pm, and the taxi will be here at 3:30pm since I don't take chances with Jakartan traffic. That much is certain, but everything else is in a state of partly to mostly.

The laundry is mostly done (some is still drying).
The suitcase is partly packed (I threw in the Christmas presents but nothing else yet).
Those presents are mostly wrapped (I love bringing home wrapped presents).
The apartment is mostly clean (I still need to sweep and mop tomorrow).
The errands are mostly done (today I obtained chocolate, earrings, adaptors, minutes for my phone, a printed itinerary, newly adjusted glasses, and pencils).
The carry-on is partly packed (in my head, at least).
The dishes are mostly clean and put away (but I keep dirtying new ones, goshdarnit).
The electronics are partly charged (and I still need to sync my iPod).

And I am 100% ready to be home.

What did Laura do yesterday?

How did I spend my first real day of vacation, you ask? (Weekends don't count by the way.)

I woke up early. I called my family. We had a family conference on how/where/when to spend Christmas/the days before/the days after.

I tidied my apartment. Tidied is perhaps to mild a word because there was definitely scrubbing involved. Desperately needed scrubbing.

I did laundry. Is it strange that it still gives me a great deal of pleasure to put my dirty clothes into a laundry machine and not into a bucket?

I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls. I know that I am late getting on this bandwagon, but I am definitely enjoying the ride.

I didn't get dressed all day. Corollary: I didn't leave my apartment all day except to dump the trash down the chute right outside my door.

I made mashed potatoes for lunch. The great thing about living alone is that no one gives a second thought to how much you're eating. They were pretty delicious.

I regretted the amount of mashed potatoes later when I fell into a starch-induced coma and conked out of the couch for most of the evening.

I rallied after the coma for a shower and a couple more episodes of Gilmore Girls and...I stayed up until midnight!

Today will be more interesting, I promise.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

When my birthday package from my parents arrived yesterday, it included a handful of lovely handmade ornaments. Not having a tree to decorate, I could have let them sit in a box somewhere in my apartment, but I got inspired.

As it turns out, a two foot fake Christmas tree with twinkly lights, gold star ornaments, a tinsel garland, red ribbons, and a tin angel on top has an extraordinary power to make me smile.

When I don't feel like doing dishes...

I put on my cute apron in this fabulous print.

I light candles.


I fill my orange bowl with soapy water...

and I whisk.

Three small pleasures = dishes done.

Giving Thanks

Everyone loves an American Thanksgiving meal. Last night, I was one of only a handful of Americans celebrating Thanksgiving with 40 or so people from Indonesia, Australia, Japan, and who knows where else. Forget Obama as the great world unifier. It's turkey.

What's great about spending Thanksgiving overseas is that I get more than one turkey dinner. Early in November we had a Thanksgiving meal at church, my Bible study celebrated mightily last night, and today I'm going over to Joseph and Karla's for a third delicious meal. And my Indonesian Thanksgivings always have something a little unique. At our pitch-in Thanksgiving last year, we had sushi and Indian food, and last night's dessert included chocolate cake and donuts.

I'm pie-maker again this year, and this time I actually have pumpkin (thanks to a little foresight when I was home over the summer and my mother), Crisco (thanks to Karla), and a rolling pin instead of a bottle of sparkling apple cider (thanks to my grandmother). My only trouble is that when I cook something more complicated than dinner for myself, all the deficiencies of my kitchen supplies become readily apparent. I'm supplying mashed potatoes, too for our dinner tonight, and so my thought process this morning went something like this:

Ok, the pumpkin pie filling is in my big red pot and the pie dough is in my orange bowl (thank goodness I planned ahead), but I need the orange bowl to take the potatoes over to Karla's and I need the red pot to cook the potatoes, so I need to make the pie early, so that I can wash dishes and use them for potatoes. The red pot is not that big so I'll probably have to do more than one batch of potatoes, but now that I've put the potato peelings in the orange bowl, I need somewhere to put the cooked potatoes until I mash them. Red cleaning bucket...? No, no, no. I guess I could use the blue strainer until the red pot is done cooking the potatoes and then transfer them to the orange bowl. But if I use the orange bowl for the mashed potatoes, then I can't whip the cream ahead of time, so I'll have to bring my hand mixer plus sugar, whipping cream, and vanilla. I hope Karla has a bowl in which I can whip the cream. Wait, how am I going to juggle mashed potatoes, pie, whipping cream, sugar, vanilla, and hand mixer in the taxi on the way there? Mmm, that pie smells good.

It's all going to be delicious, and Karla finally has an oven big enough to cook the turkey. Last year, Karla prepared the turkey at my apartment, stuck it in my oven and then I babysat it while she made other preparations at their house. We drove the turkey back to her house, and I got all the credit for a turkey I didn't really cook.

We're lucky that we don't have school today because Friday falls on the Islamic holiday Idul Adha. It commemorates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac, and people generally celebrate by killing livestock and distributing the meat to the less fortunate. I think that spirit of generosity is very appropriate for Thanksgiving.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some red pots, orange bowls, potatoes, and pies to attend to. Happy Thanksgiving!

Recent Pleasantness

I had one of the nicest weekends in recent memory.

Friday, I went with Carol and Disha (expat colleague/friends) into the city for dinner at a cute little bar/lounge that Carol and I found a while ago. Delicious food, excellent company, and even some good people watching.

Saturday, we were required to go to a 30th anniversary celebration for the foundation that supports my school. I was expecting it to ruin my afternoon, so I gave myself an extra nice morning to put me in a good mood. I got coffee and donuts. I talked to my dad and my roommate. I bought myself a new book. I called my sister on the way there. I was a very happy camper who was then pleasantly surprised that the anniversary celebration actually featured some lovely student performances. Who wouldn't be charmed by kindergarten dancers in Indonesian dress dancing to "Jesus Loves Me" played on traditional Balinese instruments?

After the celebration, I headed down to Saturday night church with Carol and Disha. We got there half an hour late, so we decided that a hot coffee would do nicely. It was the rare rainy day in Jakarta when warm drinks actually sound cozy.

We stuck around because there was game night after church. It was a glorious racket of kids and food and charades and four-on-a-couch and all manner of good things.

Sunday, I went to Sunday morning church, heard an excellent sermon, went out to lunch at the yummy Italian place by church (delicious minestrone soup). Then I read some of my new book, took a divine nap, and did some blogging.

Sunday evening, I joined some Saturday night church friends for Christmas movie night. Since we don't have cold weather or crass commercialism to get us in the Christmas spirit, we have to do it ourselves. We watched Elf.

The end.

In Which I Do Not Mention Recent Pleasantnesses

Again, I've been feeling decidedly un-bloggy, but this time, it's not for lack of interesting things to blog about, some pleasant and some decidedly unpleasant.

By way of introduction to the unpleasant, I remember being struck by these words when I first heard them, but I felt particular need to look them up recently.

"I thank Thee first because I was never robbed before; second because although they took my purse they did not take my life; third, because although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth because it was I who was robbed, and not I who robbed."
~Matthew Henry

It has not been easy to be thankful that several hundred dollars was taken from my locked apartment several weeks ago, and I have felt alternately angry, frustrated, stupid, frightened, and cynical but rarely thankful. Yet in the manner of Matthew Henry, I am grateful that it was not my all, that it was probably taken by someone who needs it much more than I do, that it has been a part of my recent reflections on suffering, and that it has spurred me to greater prayer.

And the management of my apartment complex has taken it very seriously, particularly since it seems to be part of a pattern of thefts. They've interviewed all the employees, provided me with a safe, replaced my locks, interviewed me for more information, and replaced the bathroom stall quality sliding bolt on my door with a legitimate bolt and chain. They haven't done what I would really like, which is to say to me, "Don't worry about your bill for the next couple of months," but that would be too much to hope for.

I think it was one of God's little jokes that I discovered the theft the very same day that I gave a morning devotion on suffering. I told the teachers that morning (and I tell you) that I'm not sure that I can sum up my thoughts about suffering very well yet, but a combination of things--a Bible study on Philippians, the death from cancer of the toddler daughter of some acquaintances, reading (again) The Giver, and some Spirit-given urge to research and reflect on Scripture--got me thinking. Thinking not so much about why suffering happens but what it does.

First of all, I don't think suffering was ever intended for us, at least not in the way that we experience it now. But suffering entered the world as a consequence of sin, and with our hurts, confusions, angers, wars, depressions, deaths, harsh words, sicknesses, crimes, hatreds, secret pains, oppressions, griefs, injustices, weariness, aches, and wrongs, we have suffered. Lord, we have suffered.

But something changes with Christ. Christ was sinless and undeserving of suffering, and yet he chooses to enter into the grime of suffering. The image that came to mind recently was from the movie Slumdog Millionaire. In one scene, the protagonist as a little boy is locked by pranksters in an outhouse lifted on stilts over its pit of excrement. If that weren't bad enough, his hero--the Bollywood star whose picture he keeps with him at all times--has just arrived and is giving out autographs not far away. The boy has a choice, and for the sake of something supremely valuable to him, he plunges into the filth, races to his hero, and gets his autograph.

Christ, for the sake of something supremely valuable to him, has entered into the world and its pain. By some mysterious miracle, his Father has heaped honor on him precisely because he chose to suffer (Hebrews 2:9). By some mysterious miracle, we can embrace suffering as a calling to follow in his footsteps (1 Peter 2:20-21). By some mysterious miracle, we can call suffering a kind of grace (Philippians 1:29). By some mysterious miracle, suffering becomes an occasion for greater worship, faith, and service (1 Peter 4:15-16, 19).

Someone once pointed out to me that ugliness is not hard to achieve, but bringing beauty out of ugliness takes creativity and faith in ugly things. Thank goodness for a loving Artist.

My favorite insight came when I read Act 5:41. After the apostles have been publicly humiliated and flogged in the Sanhedrin, I read "The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering for the Name." What a change from the cowardly men who fled the scene of Christ's suffering when he was betrayed in the garden. What a difference Easter makes.

I warned you that I don't have any great summative thoughts about suffering. I don't pretend that my life has been filled with suffering. That would sound pretentious anywhere but particularly so in Indonesia. I don't pretend to know why suffering happens, but I want to be looking for the ways that my God is turning suffering into glory and bringing beauty out of ugliness. I want to offer my meager sufferings as material for sacrifice and opportunities for praise.

My reflection on suffering isn't over. Just this morning, I listened to a sermon about Paul and Silas in the Philippian prison singing hymns of praise to Christ in the dark hours of the night after a day of injustice and pain.

So today I am thankful for one more thing.

I am thankful for a Lord who has also suffered.

You've got a point there

So, I've been trying to learn the 10th graders' names, but my techniques mostly involve consulting the seating chart, guessing, and "What's your name again?" Yesterday, I was employing all three in my quest to figure out the name of Mr. Row 2, Column 2, when he informed me that their class changes seats every week.

"Well, that doesn't help me learn your name, does it? How am I supposed to get your names right if I don't know where you're sitting?"

"Miss, you're supposed to learn my face."

Touche.

The Long and Short of It

It's not that I've been particularly busy recently; it's just that I haven't felt bloggy. But I got inspired again this weekend, so here's the long and short of the last couple of weeks.

Long:

The leadership retreat two weeks ago was my last hurrah with my year 11 students. With beautiful, cool weather up in the hills around Bandung, it almost felt like a mini-vacation. We teachers had almost no supervising responsibilities since the programs were run by an outside organization, so we were free to enjoy each other's company or hang out with the kids. We watched them earning points to eat supper by participating in team-building activities (don't worry; no one starved), and I got to slip out of teacher mode and just enjoy being with my students one last time.

Since I've said goodbye to the year 11 kids, I've been in a weird transitional time for a couple of months until I get a new batch of year 11 students. Last year, I taught 8^th graders, but this year I'm teaching year 10 English and Study Skills. It's a good opportunity to get to know them before January, and it doesn't hurt that my teaching schedule is a bit lighter (no classes on Mondays or Fridays), which gives me some time to reflect on last year and plan better for next year.

Last week was a snore. Karla was out of town about half the week, and Carol was gone the whole week, so I had no one to bug, and hardly any classes to teach. I compensated by taking the morning off to go to the bank on Friday. I tried going on Monday, but apparently they won't let me take money out of my U.S. dollar account after 2pm. (I asked about four times just to make sure.) It only takes 5 or so minutes to walk to the bank, but I was drenched in sweat by the time I got there. Ick. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

I've had a nasty cold. I'm mostly over it now, but it's been a slower recovery than I expected. I've consumed mountains of tissue, cups and cups of tea, a whole bottle of hand sanitizer, plenty of cold medicine, and hours of extra sleep, but I'm still croaky, and it feels like someone's driving nails into my sinuses when I bend over. On the bright side, one of my students remarked that my voice sounds nicer when I'm congested. Thanks?

Saturday I went to yoga class at my gym for the first time in a couple of months. I always find yoga class vaguely amusing, but I was welcomed back with a friendly "Apa kabar?" (How are you?) from our instructor, whose black mesh shirt and navy swish-swish pants I know so well. I also got a "We haven't seen you in a while" from the guy next me who was wearing a blue striped polo, white man-capris, and a red terrycloth headband. Ok, maybe the clothing is part of the reason I find yoga funny, so in the interest of descriptive fairness, I wore my teal yoga pants and my black cotton/spandex t-shirt.

I also worked up enough courage to get a haircut on Saturday. I've only been to a salon twice now in Indonesia. I have this mistaken idea that no hairdresser in Indonesia knows how to deal with curliness, and I choose to ignore the fact that my hair is very forgiving of imperfect haircuts. Mostly, it's the language barrier that keeps me away from Indonesian scissors, but I haven't actually had a bad experience yet. And this time? Success.

Short:

I have 120 new 10^th grader names to learn, and I'm not very motivated. I think I miss my 11^th graders.

The funniest moment of my weekend was hearing a Nigerian imitate JFK's Massachusetts accent in "Ask not what your country can do for you."

I conquered the stubborn gradebook software and successfully entered all my grades and comments last week.

We had an American-style Thanksgiving lunch at church yesterday. Yum!

My current bedtime reading is The Magician's Nephew.

I got to teach people how to play euchre, and I'm hoping we can start a regular euchre-playing evening.

I accidentally bought chunky peanut butter last time I was at the grocery story.

My computer's power cord is shot. Likewise the battery. Lethal combination.

Work is eating up two Saturdays this month, so less yoga fun for me.

I've started mentally packing to go home and making a list of everything I want to bring back with me.

I just had three year 11 students who are leaving IPEKA to pursue studies elsewhere come in to say goodbye. Did I mention that I miss them?

Again.

I'm in the unusual position of telling people again that I'm still alive. Another earthquake hit Indonesia today, not too far southwest of Jakarta. This time, I was in a bus, with my eyes closed, listening to to the happy clamor of students on the way home from our leadership retreat, lurching and halting with the Friday afternoon traffic, and trying not to be too optimistic about when we might get home. Thanks to modern media, I found out about it pretty quickly, but no one on the bus felt it. We did see people who had evacuated their buildings along the way, but I didn't notice any significant damage. I'm sure I'll hear more tomorrow, though. We've had our fill of earthquakes here for a while. Who's next?

Not Too Shabby

From 4:00pm to 9:00pm, I went to the ATM, bought various food and household sundries at the local Quik-Mart (very much in walking distance from my apartment), paid my bills, bought minutes for my phone (again, local business in my neighborhood--I love it), watched TV, checked email, Facebook and my favorite blogs, exfoliated and moisturized my feet, took out the trash, finished grading finals, entered grades into my monster Excel spreadsheet, and packed for a retreat in Bandung.

It's a good feeling to get to the end of the day with more work done than I had hoped.

T-shirt Tweeting

Remember the guy who took the picture of my Kartini t-shirt in the Singapore airport? Turns out he's a minor Indonesian celebrity who tweets, and he posted the picture of me. This caused a minor twitter-fest among my students who discovered it, but I think I earned some major cool points with them.

Here's the picture, but please ignore the travel hair. I told you it was a cool t-shirt.

In the tunnel and looking forward to the light

With earthquakes in Padang (didn't feel it) and a fire in a north Jakarta neighborhood (going through my closet for for clothes to donate at church tomorrow), there are plenty of people suffering more than I am, but it's been a long week. Mostly, it's the mile-high pile of finals and other papers that need to be graded. My stack is still hovering about the 200 mark, so it's not really going to be a weekend. Grades need to be in by the end of next week, but I'm going on a retreat with the outgoing 11th grade kids in Bandung from Wednesday to Friday, so that cramps my grading time.

The stress must be getting to me because I've found myself close to tears twice this week over slightly frustrating situations that normally would just get a fleetingly furrowed forehead from me. On Thursday, it was the fact that I couldn't print from the library, and yesterday it was the birthday package for my sister that I had packaged/repackaged/re-repackaged and tried to send three times but was still going to be way more costly than I had thought. Don't worry: the document got printed, and the package was sent, though I think Erica might getting her presents from me around Thanksgiving.

I've also been on unsteady ground for what I'm doing for the next few months until the 10th grade students move up to 11th grade in January. Last year, I taught 8th grade, but this year it looks like I'll be teaching 10th grade, which is great because I get to know the kids before January and I'll have a lighter teaching schedule which allows me to reflect on the year of teaching I just finished and how I can improve for next year. As I grade the finals, I've been jotting down notes about what I can do to improve for next year. It's getting to be a long list, but it's also an exciting one. Anyone want an Indonesian pen pal?

All this (plus the October heat) means that going home for Christmas can't come too soon. I'll be in the United States from December 20 to January 6, and I'm already counting on cold weather, snow, and lots of catching up with family and friends. Can't. Wait.

Batik Day

Quick! It's not too late for you to find your favorite batik garment and wear it in celebration of UNESCO's declaration of batik as a unique part of Indonesian heritage. An interesting piece of subtext is that Indonesia has been annoyed by Malaysia's attempts to claim batik as its own to use it for tourism and advertising. Apparently, Malaysia is looking into the UNESCO issue.

Whomever it "belongs" to, President Yudhoyono called on Indonesians to wear batik today to celebrate. And since IPEKA participated, too, I wore my batik blouse from Jogjakarta today instead of my boring white uniform one.

I also slept under my double-sided batik quilt, which makes me happy every time I look at it and its glorious patchwork of colors and patterns.

If you're interested in learning more about batik, this is a great site to check out, complete with the step by step process.

Hong Kong: The weird and wonderful

What would a trip in Asia be if not an opportunity to take pictures of things that baffle and confound?

Ok, the first two aren't from HK, but I did allude to them, so here's the Malaysian square toilet and the Man in Red.

And on to Hong Kong oddities!

On a wall along a street:

Parable of the ten virgins anyone?

This picture doesn't seem that strange (well, except for the half a zebra)

until you zoom in.
It reads:
"most important thing
laprotect natural from
environmental disinplio
Don't worry broke to every!
Life comes first"

Indeed. It wouldn't be fair to post that example of mangled English without also mentioning that this week I found a blog chronicling misuse of Chinese characters, often in the form of tattoos. Ouch.

This isn't so strange as interesting. Ever wondered how Chinese characters work on those dot-light signs?

Me neither. Until now.

Yes, I already put up a picture of the giant Buddha, but I didn't point out that it has a swastika on its chest.


Did I mention that the statue is not even twenty years old? This sent me researching to find out more about the history of the swastika, and it made me realize that the symbol is not so taboo outside Western culture.

And finally, my favorite night market stall sold...

...rows and rows of fake hair.

Hong Kong: Four Markets and a Wedding

The happy couple

Is this getting boring? I have visions in my head that I'm turning into one of those people who pulls out travel photos and doesn't let up on how AMAZING and INCREDIBLE and AWE-INSPIRING the trip was for at least an hour. I'm not trying to be that person, but I loved visiting Hong Kong, not least of all for the people I met there. Have I mentioned that the wedding was lovely? That the celebrations lasted from 11am to 9pm? That I almost couldn't move by the end of the day from all the delicious food? It was quite the international wedding, seeing as the bride is originally from India, the groom is American, and guests came from Hong Kong, the United States, Singapore, India, Indonesia, and the United Arab Emirates. There were other nationalities represented, too, because Hong Kong itself is such an international city. I had just as much fun getting to know new people as I did catching up with Wheaton classmates. In particular, I had excellent hosts, church friends of the bride's parents, who welcomed me and one of the bridesmaids with beautiful generosity.

Bridesmaid A and our lovely hostess D who never let us out of the apartment without a good breakfast and rebuffed my thanks with a simple "God is good, sweetheart."

Having no good transition to share my market pictures, I'll just say that my roommate M likes to go to church and grocery stores when visiting a new country. I think she's onto something. I visited Indian church on Saturday afternoon, where I was roped into playing piano, which probably wouldn't have happened if they had know how long it's been since I regularly played piano, and I visited four different markets (that's kind of like a grocery store, right?). I first visited the Pearl and Jade Market in the Yau Ma Tei area after a spectacular dim sum brunch. I don't have any pictures, but I do have some very affordable pearls and jade to show for my visit. After that I did some wandering through the neighborhood and stumbled on the Yau Ma Tei market.

This part smelled. And my sister, the nominal vegetarian who hates the sight of raw meat, wouldn't have liked it very much.

A passer-by kindly informed me that the stuff in front on the left is dried preserved duck. He didn't give me any help on the rest of it though.

I think there's some durian (beloved but smelly Indonesian fruit) in this picture. Can you find it?

After the wedding, I went to Stanley Beach which is just as famous for its cheap tourist market as for the shoreline. What can I say, I'm a cheap tourist. With art, trinkets, dishes, linens, clothing, and "your name in Chinese on (insert object here)," I got a great start on my Christmas shopping. But I didn't get any really good pictures there except for this one at the back of a trinket stall.

This little kid was cracking me up with the animated interaction between him and his GameBoy.

My last market was the Hong Kong night market, which is pretty interesting. The vendors' stalls fill the streets and shut down traffic from early evening to after midnight.

This stall was my second favorite.

My favorite night market stall belongs in tomorrow's post: strange (to me) sights.

Hong Kong: Town and Country

When you think of Hong Kong, it's the city that comes to mind first, and I saw plenty of interesting city sights.

Street views:
(The little red spider-like symbol on the blue sign tells you that there's an MTR station nearby.)

View from my bedroom window:


But I was also pleasantly surprised to find that there are some not-city parts of Hong Kong to discover.

Stanley and its beach are at the end of a 45-60 minute bus ride from the central business district.
To get to the wetlands park, take the MTR and a light rail line. Yes, I know that a wetlands park doesn't seem like much of a tourist destination (to people not raised by my parents). The ranger told me so.

(This shot might lead you erroneously to think that I have a spectacular telephoto lens or bird whispering abilities. Not so. I was however, able to manage a skillful combination of binoculars and camera.)

This bronze Buddha statue is out at the end of an MTR line. I was hoping to take a cable car to the top of the hill, but the cable car was under repair, so I went by bus instead, passing through some beautiful countryside on the way.
If only that trash can had been about three feet to the left...


Of course, it's a mistake to think that you can really away from the city in Hong Kong.

Stanley Beach:

Wetlands park:
Next time: day markets and night markets.

Hong Kong: The Waterfront

One of my favorite places was the waterfront down by the art museum looking from the mainland toward Hong Kong Island. I visited at midday,

at dusk, and after dark.Here's what happened when I decided that I would look good as a part of the scenery.

What a beautiful view! Wouldn't I look nice in front of it? Let's try out that handy remote function on the camera.

Oops! That was the two second delay not the ten second delay.

Better, but too much bench and not enough view.

Nice enough, but what about all that junk I'm carrying? Let's get rid of that.

Finally: perfection. And bonus points for making myself look tall(er).

Hong Kong: The Beginning

I averted a crisis today. Somehow I banged up my camera enough in Hong Kong that it wouldn't upload the pictures to my computer, but a trip to the mall and a multi-language technology consultation mostly fixed it. That means I finally have pictures to share, but so many that I think I'll break it up into several posts. I still have some time before I go back to school next week, so look for lots of Hong Kong pictures this weekend.

While I was in Hong Kong, it was hard not to compare it with Jakarta. For starters, if Jakarta is more horizontal--both geographically and architecturally,--then Hong Kong is all vertical with hills and high-rises everywhere.And if there's a sort of sleepy charm to my neighborhood in the evening, then Hong Kong is all hustle and bustle, with hustle early every morning and bustle until late late late at night.

If you're ever in Hong Kong, I highly recommend the Octopus card, which gets you on any of the public transportation systems in Hong Kong.

(The logo is what's blurry, not my picture of it). And with the excellent public transportation, it was easier than falling down to find my way from here to there. Here's how I got around the city:

MTR (or Mass Transit Railway. I went everywhere on this thing)

Double decker buses and taxis (the red and white taxis are way more expensive than Jakarta's Bluebirds so I mostly avoided them. I really like riding in the top of the double decker bus, though)

Tram (to the Peak for great views of the city)

Ferry (from Hong Kong Island to the mainland)

You've seen how I got there.
Next time: where I went.