Simplified Chinese

Originally written September 13, 2006

Reports that the British influences on its former colony of Hong Kong still remaining prominent in the daily lives of the permanent citizens of the island have been greatly exaggerated. Gone are the days of bilingual conversations filling the air of the night markets of mong kok. We are in China, bloody red in all its glory. While the state party motto is "one country, two systems", believe you me, everyone here knows who is running the show.

Take the news for example, if a news report is too biased against the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), the broadcast signal is terminated and the screen turns...you guessed it, little bit red. I had a nice discussion about this tonight with a few of my new found friends while we were dining on chicken mcnuggets before class. The government believes that people will become confused my conflicting messages that newspapers or news reports may present. They believe that the people would not understand what government is trying to accomplish by their policies and practices, and thus, by controlling message everyone will understand that the CCP is working in the best interests of everyone.

The people are caught between two cultures. The older generations must see their traditions fading away to the commercialism that the west has brought. While the country may be ruled by an iron fist, the government knows how to make a profit. Every major western corporation you can imagine has dozens of stores spread throughout the island. And the government charges a premium price on these companies for doing business here. The kids our age pay great attention to fashion; far beyond the level we're assembling outfits back in the states. Hairstyle is what caught my eye at first, not just because I've been trying to bring back the mullet for years. It’s a cross between big hair 80's and spiky gelled creations out of some anime cartoon.

But then there is that other side of the coin. Women are very conservative in their public appearance and behavior. I realized today that I haven't seen a tank top yet. In the states, if its 105 degree outside, you'd imagine people wearing as little clothing as possible. The Chinese don't reveal skin, and by that I mean any where from shins to cleavage, there's nothing showing. Here I am the large American, sweating through every article of clothing I own in this jungle, and yet the heat does faze them.

Walking in a crowd, and there is always a crowd, I often realize how everyone around me is having conversations, and I cannot understand a single word that is being spoken. I wonder whether they are talking about me, if there are people behind me, I get paranoid, looking around me for any signs of trouble. I'm the tallest person in every mob of people; I can scan the crowd and look for anyone that might start something. I'm taken back to traveling around Europe, looking out for my women, being the big bad protecting everyone. And I realize, I'm all alone on this side of the world, there's no one to protect.

The Triads own this town. They are real as it gets. They are the doormen, they are the valets, they are the police. They run protection rackets like something you'd see out of a movie. The police and the Triads form a symbiotic relationship; one takes care of the other. You see them on the street corner. You see them in front of restaurants. They are the modern day ninjas and I feel that in someway my path will have to cross with them.

Walking through these streets, I feel alive, I feel responsible. As the night falls, I am a part of this city. I find myself unable to walk away from the same conflicts, trying to do what is right, in a city that pays no attention to such thoughts. There are very few whites here, and few if any are Americans. As we cross each others path, I give a simple nod, and we understand without saying any words. I am in a world that cannot be described.

Last year, a man from Hong Kong was sentenced to ten years in prison as a threat to national security for detailing in a blog the practices of the CCP. His blog was picked up by an internet media service and word spread. The government forced the local internet companies to divulge his IP address, and they traced the blog to his apartment.

Every single day I step up, I get in their hostile little faces and remind them yes, I am the best at what I do, and yes, what I do ain't pretty. I'm the big bad...I'm here to save your world.