Thanksgiving, November 27, 2003

     My uncle Fai and I headed to Macau early this morning after stopping at the Hong Kong version of a 50s breakfast diner. After waiting in line to place your order, you take your ticket over to the cooking line where they prepare your food and hand it to you on a tray. This whole process reminded me of what you see in a school cafeteria- hurried sweating white clad cooks shoveling food around and tossing it at you. The only exception was that the food in this case is actually very good. I steered clear of classic American style eggs, sausage, and toast to save my potentially seasick stomach, and opted for the sticky rice stuffed with pork and mushrooms in a banana leaf instead.

     We took the TurboJet to Macau. This speedy boat with seats in the layout of a short wide airplane complete with tray tables, a terrible video screen, and airline style lighting, leaves every fifteen minutes for the hour long voyage to Macau. The only downside is the price and long lines at immigration because of all the new Chinese gamblers swarming the island by day.

     I arrived in Macau expecting to find Chinese people speaking Portuguese. Maybe I should have realized that although Portugal handed the island over to China in 1999, their influence was strongest about 400 years ago. That means that I arrived to find Chinese people speaking Chinese. Fancy that. The signs, however, are still bilingual even if the people really arent. It was definitely strange to see both Portuguese and Chinese on the same sign, and even stranger to see a road called Rua de Kunming and even one that had a Japanese name that slips my mind as I write this.

    What does remain of the Portuguese, however, are the buildings and general atmosphere. The streets are cobblestone and paved mosaic-style just like in Portugal. There are numerous open pracas bedecked by cheerful looking pastel colored churches and buildings with moldings and wrought iron balconies. Some of the narrow streets are like Melaka sans sewage ditches on each side of the road. My uncle says that the place feels sort of like the Hong Kong of his childhood 40 years ago. What I gather is that there is more of a sense of community and of taking it easy than can be found in the bustling urban jungle of Hong Kong. People seem to have a slower pace of life here. I definitely noticed more people strolling and socializing and smiling. There is less traffic and less noise and less all around hustle, other than the scurrying of tourists in their matching red vests to get back into their air-conditioned vans. Another plus for me was the cool breeze that was actually allowed to blow through the city because it actually has open spaces.

     Shops in Macau seem to sell one of three things: antiques, pork jerky, and sawdust like cakes made of ground up almonds. Antiques here are a bargain. Beautifully restored and well-priced, they can even be shipped abroad for a low cost according to the shop owners. But low is a relative term and paying several hundred dollars to ship a piece of wood weighing several hundred pounds doesnt seem to fit into my budget at this point and time. In the future, though, Id love to have one of those dark wood apothecary chests with dozens of small drawers sitting in my house so I can store away all my little bits of junk and never find them again.

     Fai and I ate lunch at a Portuguese-style restaurant on a street where all the shutters and doors are painted bright red. Having recently been to Portugal, I can vouch that the food was indeed Portuguese but spiked and improved by Chinese ingredients like soy sauce and lots of garlic. Our sopa verde was much more garlicky than anything I tried in Portugal, and I would have to say that our stewed oxtails and mutton chps were a good deal more tasty with the Chinese influence.

     What brings tourists other than myself to Macau, however, are the casinos. It may be easy to get into the country, but it is damn difficult to get into a casino. Not only must you pass the SARS infrared fever surveillance cameras, but also a metal detector and the police. You cant even bring food, umbrellas, or cameras into the place. People come to Macau from Hong Kong for the day to gamble and then to catch the boat home in time for dinner. My uncle heard some guy in the Casino Lisboa on his cell phone saying honey, I havent finished the moving job yet, Im working hard and will be home late tonight. Apparently, there are even package tours that include gambling and a visit to a nighclub complete with a lovely female escort. Im not sure what Macaus position on prostitution is, but it sure looks like people are getting away with it. Proof of these tours was confirmed for me when I returned to Hong Kong and saw placards advertising these tours, complete with pictures of women in next to nothing in seductive poses.