"You want to hear a really nasty story?" asked Christina. We all leaned in close. She noted our silence and continued.
"One day, this young teenage girl comes into the hospital. She's a peasant from a village outside the city. I could tell she grew up on a farm because she had a dark tan and tattered clothes. She was maybe only fourteen or fifteen years old.
"What's up with this fascination for Japanese girls in maid outfits?" Kim asked.
Masako laughed. "In the maid cafes, the girls will treat you like a king. The Japanese businessmen love them. When you go inside, the girls will say, 'Welcome home, Master' in Japanese, then dote on you the entire time you're there."
"Do they do, um, anything else?" I wondered.
"NO Mike. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Is it strange having her live with you guys?"
Ray shook his head. "We have a small guest room. Much bigger than what other families give to their domestic helpers."
I scratched my chin. "A friend told me that sometimes all they're given is a plank on a washing machine to sleep on."
There were fish guts on my pants. But I didn't mind. Just watching the fishermen slice up those large tuna was worth smelling like one.
It was 6:30am. Kim and I were wandering around the Tsukiji Fish Market. Japanese fishermen rushed about their work without a care for gawking gaijin like us.
Except for that one lady who started screaming at us in Japanese. She sounded angry, though she could have been telling us about a painful bunion on her foot, for all we knew.
I stepped out of the Airport Express and into an ant colony. Only they weren't ants, they were Japanese commuters. And it wasn't an ant colony, it was Shinjuku station.
But if you were to look at us from ten stories above, we'd probably look like a teeming mass of ants. What would seem like aimless rushing would really be targeted traveling at high speeds.
I'm convinced that somewhere in Shinjuku station is a queen. Why else would so many Japanese commuters be in a mad rush like this, if not to build out their colony and feed their queen?
Every Hong Kong street has walking signals. Just like any big city. Unlike New York City though, the pedestrians wait until the signal is green to cross.
This I didn't expect. I thought Hong Kong would be more like New York City — and that pedestrians wouldn't wait for no stupid signal and just walk whenever they wanted to.
Walking out of customs and into the arrival area, I was met with scores of eager families with signs in Chinese. Most probably names of their loved ones. Little kids ran up to uncles and aunts. Friends waved at friends. Boyfriends hugged and kissed girlfriends.
I smiled at the sight and walked on by. I wondered if any of them has SARS. Then I walked a little faster.
"What's the most significant thing you've gotten out of this trip?" Masako asked.
I scratched my chin. "Hmmm." There was so much. It was my first trip ever to Hong Kong and Tokyo; heck, it was my first trip ever to Asia. I struggled to find the right answer. Unfortunately, the first answer I gave her was a lie.
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA