Fishing near Central

Sunday Mornings

We have a church in Dundee that we love, miss, and are looking forward to returning to one day, soon.

But re-locating to Hong Kong has afforded us a unique opportunity to visit a wide variety of Christian fellowships. (Can we all just agree upfront not to call it church shopping.) We are looking forward to settling into a church before the end of the year, but in the mean time we have given ourselves permission to visit a variety of churches. While it smacks of indulgent consumerism, it’s been awesome visiting these fellowships.

So far, we have visited Hong Kong International Baptist Church, The Vine, and Island ECC; none of which are in a traditional stand-alone building. They are all located inside of a commercial building of one sort or another.

The quality of English-language churches in Hong Kong is just outstanding. They are contemporary, dynamic, and truly international. It is really cool worshiping every week with a congregation that is Chinese, Japanese, Pilipino, British, Aussie, American, Canadian, Indian, Pakistani, Nigerian, Congelese, Middle Eastern, and Brazilian.

All three of the churches we’ve visited so far are very out-reach minded. They all have ministries dedicated to the poor. They all have ministries geared toward the Filipino and Indonesian domestic helpers who are here without their families. In just the past three months, these churches have raised a lot of money for the victims of the natural disasters in Taiwan, Indonesia, and the Philippines.

Only five percent of Hong Kong professes to be Christian, but what a difference a minority can make. Margaret Sanger once said, “Don’t ever question whether or a not a small group of people can change the world. In fact, it is the only thing that ever has.”

Last week, the pastor at the Island ECC –quoting someone else- asserted that Hong Kong –with her wealth, internationalism, and proximity to an awakening China is uniquely positioned to impact the world for the Kingdom of God.

I’ve had more than one new family here at the school say to me that they have no doubt that God has called them to be here in Hong Kong. They just aren't sure why, but they are excited to find out just exactly what it they are supposed to doing and who they are supposed to be impacting. It’s a very cool outlook that seems to permeate the Christian community here in Hong Kong.

-Jack

Squeezing By

I am walking down the hall behind a dozen eighth-grade boys. They come to the set of double doors at the end of the hallway. The first boy flings open the door all the way so that it’s open enough for the first five boys to effortlessly walk through. The door starts to close, but it’s closing slowly enough for the next three boys to easily make it through as well.

So now the door is over half-way closed, but this doesn’t stop the ninth boy from successfully slipping through without touching the door. Surely, I think to myself, this next boy is going to have to reopen the door. Nope. Boy number ten also turns sideways and slips through.

This is more exciting than watching a snowboarding championship on t.v.

Boy number eleven moves toward the ever-diminishing opening. There is no way he’s going to make it. The opening is too small. But, rather than stick out his foot to stop the door or –heaven’s forbid- use his hand to actually open the door, boy number eleven quickens his pace. The door is closing too quickly. He can’t make it. But no, boy number eleven gets thin and manages to slide through without the door touching any part of his body.

Thrilling.

Sadly, boy number twelve has to actually re-open the door. Poor sap.

I love middle schoolers.

-Jack

This morning I'm walking behind a small group of eighth-grade boys. The first one flings opened the door and they all walk through. I pick up my pace. The door is closing. I gauge the size of the opening. I glide through the doorway just before it closes behind me.

Yes.

Apartment Living

For the last seventeen years Julie and I have owned and lived in a house. This summer we moved back into an apartment for the first time since our newlywed days.

On our seventh-floor wing, there are four families each of whom has two kids ranging in age from two to fourteen years old.

It’s awesome.

I forgot how great it is living in close community with other people. To a certain degree, it reminds me of college because we’re all in the same stage of life and we all share the same nine-to-five pursuits. And we’re a little like freshmen in that we're all going through this new, challenging experience together.

But compared to college, there is a whole lot less blaring of the stereo, nobody staying up until three in the morning, and there are fewer pranks that end up with me standing in the hallway locked out of my apartment in my underwear.

It’s rumored that there are a bunch of young, single teachers with no kids around the bend in the other seventh floor wing, but we hardly ever see them. In fact, I’ve been here for two months and just found out last week that one of my fellow middle school teachers lives in the other wing. I'm not positive, but I’m pretty sure there has been some stereo-blaring going on in that wing.

Apartment living brings with it a refreshing sense of community. The other day, one of our neighbors came over to borrow a slab of bacon. I paid the favor forward two days later by borrowing an allen wrench from my neighbor across the hall.

I’ll come home from work in the evening and seen two or three of the adults in the hall chatting about this and that. It’s nice.

But by far, my favorite thing though is when the weather is poor or the kids don’t have enough time to go all the way down to the second floor patio, they'll play in the hallway like it’s their front yard. Our four-year neighbor girl rides her bike –complete with training wheels- up and down the hall. The older kids –Annika and Elise included- kick the soccer ball back and forth down the hall. It’s Hong Kong’s narrowest soccer field.

Saturday night we had a game night and munchies at our apartment –oh, I mean flat- with the families from our floor. Good times.

All that and no lawn to mow.

-Jack

Lattice at Kowloon Walled City Park

The Incredible Shrinking City

Is it just me or is Hong Kong shrinking?

When we first moved here, Gostick our guardian angel from human resources took us to the bank which was a fifteen-minute walk. It seemed twisty and turn-y. Julie and I wondered if we would ever be able to find our way here in the future.

Sure enough, a week later when Julie had to get back to the bank, she got herself turned around and what should have been a fifteen-minute walk, took forty minutes.

The mall that the bank is in a two-story square with a courtyard in the middle. Our first time there, I stood in the middle of the plaza and spun around trying to orientate myself for future reference. I remember feeling completely overwhelmed and unable to get my bearings. This place was a maze.

That was eight weeks ago.

My, what a difference two months makes. Last week, we were back at this same mall. As we walked out I glanced up and realized that if you look between two tall apartment buildings, you can actually see our school building from the mall.
It’s that close.

That mind-boggling plaza? It’s a little bigger than a pair of tennis courts.

These days, we think nothing of taking a quick walk down to this plaza for a McDonalds ice cream cone after dinner.

Either Hong Kong is shrinking or we’re finally starting to get the hang of things around here.

-Jack

Picture: in Hong Kong, people seem to use their umbrella to protect themselves from the sun as much as the rain.

i Fold

While origami is a Japanese word, the art of paper-folding –like so many aspects of Japanese culture- has it origins in China. China has a long and illustrious history in the art of paper folding.

A couple of weeks ago, in our unit on the Industrialization of American, we did an assembly line activity. I divided the class into two groups and each was going to use mass production to produce as many folded paper boats as possible. Each student would make one fold and then pass it on to a co-worker.

But before we could begin, half of my eighth-graders needed a refresher on how to fold a paper boat.

Wow.

I still have a lot to learn about my students here in Hong Kong.

-Jack

The Good News is . . .

Julie and I were busy putting our Metro cards back in our wallets and shuffling the several bags we were carrying. We were close to home and had just one more train to take: the train that goes past our apartment. The train that we have taken a hundred times already.

As is often the case, the girls had run ahead. From the top of the escalator, Annika and Elise we hollering down at Julie and me “The train is here! Hurry up!”

Well, that was all the challenge I needed. “Come on Babe, let’s do this! We can make this train!

Annika and Elise were waiting on the platform right next to the train doors. The girls were waving us on like a third-base coach waving a runner around third toward home plate. Julie and I were just a huffin and a puffin. Shopping bags flapping. The four of stepped on the train just as the doors closed.

Yes! We rock. We are the coolest people I know. And they said it couldn’t be done. Who’s the man now, huh?

We sat down, reorganized our packages, and caught our breath.

Thirty seconds into the ride, I turned to Julie and said “This train is going in the wrong direction.”

We both started laughing. This was the line that runs past our apartment. We’ve ridden it a hundred times. It was a greenhorn’s error.

Oops.

We switched to the north-bound train at the next station.

-Jack

Picture: I was absolutely taken aback by how completely focused this little girl was on her pantomiming. With undetered focused, she kept this up the entire time we were on the train together. Notice that she is eating with chopsticks -of course.

Near Ma On Sha

I’m Just a Wanderin’

We had a four-day weekend, but we decided to stay pretty close to home and make a few day trips. Because Elise needed a day to recover from her three-day school retreat earlier in the week, we started out our long weekend by doing a whole bunch of nothing on Thursday. The girls were pretty content to hang around the apartment doing whatever it is they do on the computer (just how many crazy cat videos can you watch on YouTube?)

By about 11:30 I was going a little stir crazy, so I told Julie I was going for a walk. I was so antsy, I forgot to grab my camera on the way out.

Really, I only meant to be gone for half an hour.

In the two months that we’ve been here, it was the first time I’ve gone for a walk of any length on my own. So I just started wandering. Any old which way. No agenda. No time frame. Just a little bit of urban exploring.

I ducked into the floating seafood restaurant to peek at a menu. Not as expensive as I had thought.

I was able to inquire about renting the tennis courts that are five minutes from our house. They also have indoor squash courts. US$5.00 for an hour.

I found a great park ten minutes from our house that has a mini-peak in the middle of it that we can hike.

I lingered too long in front of little cluster of three-story houses and a gentleman came out and asked me if he could help me. We had a great fifteen minute conversation. He’s retired now, but he lived in Great Britain for twenty years. He explained to me that this whole neighborhood was relocated (or, as he kept saying: re-cited) to its current location several years ago by the Hong Kong government.

I found a little neighborhood with a bunch of ma-and-pop shops lining the streets. The stores had their wares spilling out onto the sidewalk. The restaurants had tables set up outside. I had about US$4 on me which I figured should be just about enough for a snack and a drink.

I perused my restaurant options. I think that I have a little bit of my Uncle Merle in me. I love a good dive. My philosophy is that the dumpier the restaurant, the better the food. How else could they stay in business, right? In deference to my wife and two adolescent daughters, we have eaten at a fair number of mall food courts since we arrived. If mall and hotel restaurants are on one end of the food spectrum, I was looking for a place as far on the other end of the spectrum as possible.

I picked a narrow little restaurant that sat maybe twenty people. Being a national holiday, the place was hopping. I had some deep-fried bean curd, the complimentary hot tea, and a Sprite all for US$2. People watching was free.

Afterwards, I finally managed to wander back home . . . two-and-a-half hours after I’d left.

The girls were still on their computer.

I’m not even sure they knew I’d been gone.

I love wandering.

-Jack

Picture: bamboo steamers for cooking a variety of foods. This restaurant, like many others had a kitchen in the back, but they also did some of the cooking on the front sidewalk, thus the bamboo steamers out front.