Today in Hong Hong I went to pay for my boyfriend's Christmas present, a handmade pinhole camera by Zero Image (http://www.zeroimage.com/), made right here in Hong Kong. These are beautiful cameras made of teak with brass knobs and hardware.
Finding where to give my money was a little difficult mostly because I forgot to bring the address. The office is on a small street behind Times Square, but there are several interesting shops there. Adding to the confusion, I was actually just giving money to the guy’s wife at her office, a cubby hole about the size of a walk-in closet with 3 girls working at computers on “design.” I hand over my money, for something that can basically be made at home with a shoe box, with no chance to look at the various choices or learn how it works, to a young girl translating for the wife in this small graphic design studio upstairs in the Workingview Commercial Building (another interestingly named office building). I cross my fingers that I won't be too surprised by the final product which they will start work on once the money is in hand. The website explains it pretty well though, so I am hopeful.
Down the street a young guy hands me a flyer for 20% off at his store Select which sells “exclusive and preloved clothes.” I like the term “preloved.” I go upstairs to check it out. Even with the 20% off the “preloved” designer labels are too much for my wallet. Including the “designer” gap cardigan that is over $100. I don’t think I can justify paying that price for a cotton sweater from the Gap of all places. Evidently Gap is not readily available in Hong Kong and, being American, calls for a high price. But if you are in the market for designer clothes, especially obscure things from Japanese designers, Select is a good starting point. 2/F 1A Yiu Wa Street, Causeway Bay, behind Times Square. Tel 2838 7010.
While in the dressing room Mrs. N calls me to continue the interview for tutoring her son to get into the English Schools Foundation. It has been about 5 weeks since she told me she would call back so am surprised to hear from her. She wants me to bring the computer for her son to work on and do the exercises I will have prepared for him. I don't think so. She also wants to know, again, what I will be working on with him. I tell her I don't have a computer and that I need to know his level first before I can know what to prepare or how much work will be needed to get him ready. I will probably have him write a sample essay after I have talked to him. She wants me to send him a topic to write about so that he can have the essay already written so that he doesn't have to waste time during our session. Fine. I will email him a topic tonight if she gives me his email. She thinks it is better that I send it to her. That way she can make sure it gets done, etc. Ok. So she starts to tell me her email address. I am, of course, stuck in a dressing room with one arm through a too-small sweater and the other holding the phone to my ear while the rest of me is without clothing at all. I tell her that I do not have a pen, could she text message me her email. She says she will do that. Never get anything from her the rest of the day.
I leave my umbrella at the store as I leave in search of the Central Library to maybe study some Chinese. I get to Pho Saigon in Wan Chai and realize I do not know where the library is after all.
Finding where to give my money was a little difficult mostly because I forgot to bring the address. The office is on a small street behind Times Square, but there are several interesting shops there. Adding to the confusion, I was actually just giving money to the guy’s wife at her office, a cubby hole about the size of a walk-in closet with 3 girls working at computers on “design.” I hand over my money, for something that can basically be made at home with a shoe box, with no chance to look at the various choices or learn how it works, to a young girl translating for the wife in this small graphic design studio upstairs in the Workingview Commercial Building (another interestingly named office building). I cross my fingers that I won't be too surprised by the final product which they will start work on once the money is in hand. The website explains it pretty well though, so I am hopeful.
Down the street a young guy hands me a flyer for 20% off at his store Select which sells “exclusive and preloved clothes.” I like the term “preloved.” I go upstairs to check it out. Even with the 20% off the “preloved” designer labels are too much for my wallet. Including the “designer” gap cardigan that is over $100. I don’t think I can justify paying that price for a cotton sweater from the Gap of all places. Evidently Gap is not readily available in Hong Kong and, being American, calls for a high price. But if you are in the market for designer clothes, especially obscure things from Japanese designers, Select is a good starting point. 2/F 1A Yiu Wa Street, Causeway Bay, behind Times Square. Tel 2838 7010.
While in the dressing room Mrs. N calls me to continue the interview for tutoring her son to get into the English Schools Foundation. It has been about 5 weeks since she told me she would call back so am surprised to hear from her. She wants me to bring the computer for her son to work on and do the exercises I will have prepared for him. I don't think so. She also wants to know, again, what I will be working on with him. I tell her I don't have a computer and that I need to know his level first before I can know what to prepare or how much work will be needed to get him ready. I will probably have him write a sample essay after I have talked to him. She wants me to send him a topic to write about so that he can have the essay already written so that he doesn't have to waste time during our session. Fine. I will email him a topic tonight if she gives me his email. She thinks it is better that I send it to her. That way she can make sure it gets done, etc. Ok. So she starts to tell me her email address. I am, of course, stuck in a dressing room with one arm through a too-small sweater and the other holding the phone to my ear while the rest of me is without clothing at all. I tell her that I do not have a pen, could she text message me her email. She says she will do that. Never get anything from her the rest of the day.
I leave my umbrella at the store as I leave in search of the Central Library to maybe study some Chinese. I get to Pho Saigon in Wan Chai and realize I do not know where the library is after all.
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