Scribe's back...

Dear Gentle Reader,

Yes.

It is true.

Your humble scribe's back.

Svelte and handsome, too. As seen above and here.

The rest of the body is tired, but, mostly, well.

Health is OKish, mind is fineish, and my hangover from a birthday bash the other day is mostly goneish.

All this means that your humble scribe has returned to a position where he is able to write, again. This would be a standing position followed by a seated position.

And, as your humble scribe has been gone so long, he has much to write about. He even has the energy to do the same.

Today, though, a quick overview.

You've seen the back....

Now, a side (instead of the more usual aside).

Before I bring us around to the front, though, and up to date, I must warn you all...

Somebody has to lose weight.

8 kilos (17.63 pounds) (!) were added across the length and breadth of Germany during a two week blur of cheese and chocolate excess.

Unfortunately, those 8 kilos were only added to your humble scribe's breadth; Germany's breadth and width remained unchanged, although cheese reserves were depleted.

Following this caloric cataclysm your humble scribe returned to Hong Kong with your Heroine.

The incredulous stares of Pommes, your Hero, should have alerted your humble scribe that something was wrong. But, no, ignorance and folly strode hand-in-hand together and the progress of the belly would continue unchecked.

For the following month your humble scribe lay (mostly supine, sometimes prone) and indulged in what seemed like insignificant quantities of chocolate and ice cream.

My feet, apparently, shrunk.

I thought they were shrinking because I saw less and less of them.

Then, I noticed that my belly had grown.

Slowly, I realized that something was wrong.

Finally, when health had returned to its former home with your humble scribe, your humble scribe went swimming in the shark-filled seas around Hong Kong.

And, whilst contentedly paddling around, I stopped, involuntarily, with sharp pains in my belly and a thrashing in the water around my legs and arms...

I had beached myself upon an unseen, upthrusting coral.

The thrashing was the pain-driven spasming of my arms and legs, jerking in surprise.

After slicing my hands by pushing myself off of the coral, and pulling my belly out of the coral, I looked like this...

Actually, this was me much later.

And, really, this was all done by a sessile coral.

Neither mobile Pommes, nor a Hong Kong shark, is to be blamed, even though both of those scenarios would have made a better story... or at least a less embarrassing story.

Being beached on coral is a bad way to realize that you have grown too large; those little coral polyps are vicious, both on their way in and on their way out.

After involuntary marine liposuction I knew that things had to change.

Fingers are gaining strength, as I return to blogging, and chocolate has been forsaken.

What else is new? Well I'll leave most things for another day and another post.

But, I was a bit startled to note that my itunes account has 46,015 resident tracks (we buy a lot of cds).

So, I thought, some music ought to be shared.

Today, I offer a sample of what your Heroine refers to as happy music...

Prince Nico Mbarga wrote and recorded one of Nigeria's most popular songs, Sweet Mother, back in 1976.

It soon became one of Africa's most popular songs, is West Africa's most popular song, to date, and we love it here in Hong Kong, too.

Sweet Mother is a infectious highlife piece.

Highlife music is a Ghanaian musical style from the beginning of the twentieth century with both leading horns and multiple leading guitars, which eventually spread throughout West Africa.

Sweet Mother also has elements of Cameroonian/Nigerian rhythms from the historic Igbo Kingdom as well as Congolese inspired guitar patterns.

When things get us down, we put Prince Nico on. I should have put this on two months ago.

Listen and know why we love Prince Nico Mbarga so very much. The lyrics of Sweet Mother are not the happiest, but the music teaches one to keep a sunny disposition no matter what is happening, and to focus on the now, rather than tomorrow.

If anything can make you feel good while your taut belly is straining at stitches to the rhythm of your heart, it is Prince Nico's music. Enjoy.

Click to hear Sweet Mother by Prince Nico Mbarga

Click here to buy the cd directly from Rounder Records, the publishing group that has been bringing Prince Nico Mbarga to those of us who live outside of Nigeria. Thank you, Rounder, I love your roster of artists.

Amazon.com iTunes

Tschuess,

Chris

Back to the Heart of Darkness

Dear Gentle Reader,

...in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable. ...it [the detestable] has a fascination, too, ... The fascination of the abomination...

Joseph Conrad (1857-1924)

The Heart of Darkness

Last week I mentioned that many things besides cockroaches and rats come out of the alley near my apartment in Hong Kong.

And I then left you hanging.

I had previously alluded to the fact that this alley, which I duck into to change worlds from glitz to grit, is, in many ways, a passageway into the heart of darkness.

Further, I love this alley; I have a fascination with abominations.

I described the dark, dank, pungent, physical nature of my alley, last week, in two postings.

I also mentioned that one side of my alley was Chungking Mansions, which houses some of the most notorious, cheapest, and nastiest of the cheap hostelries of Hong Kong.

Further, I noted that Chungking Mansions houses many grey and black market factories and that many goods pass hands in Chungking Mansions.

Waiting in the street, outside my alley, are dozens of these:

And, as the morning drones on and the heat fills the street, the street also fills with smiling Indian and Pakistani men, like these, waiting to earn their money as porters or as land stevedores with their hand trolleys...

These men dart through the alley from late morning until dusk ferrying finished goods, or raw materials, or work in progress between fleets of grey-market transport vehicles and the factories of Chungking Mansions.

I say grey market transport vehicles because these are regular civilian minivans, with no special licensing...

But, these minivans are filled to the brim with goods which they transport from factory to factory and then from factory to the ports of Hong Kong.

These minivans are filled to the brim and then lace curtains are drawn across the windows to hide the goods from traffic authorities--to disguise their cargo trucks as regular minivans. ...Minivans that just happen to ride really low...

Throughout the day, these vehicles fill up and drive away, or arrive, are emptied, and wait to be filled again, by men like this...

These men create ad hoc piles on the side of the pavement, by the trucks, where bills of lading are checked or created.

This picture to the left shows what one man brings back in one load on his hand trolley and has, subsequently, placed on a pallette.

Did I mention that this ferrying is done not just through my my dark alley, but also through the stairwells of Chungking Mansions?

These loads are hoisted up and down Chungking Mansions' 17 stories, with it's stairs clad in steel, steel cladding that is routinely replaced due to wear and tear.

These loads are not transported through the aging elevators; those two elevators are too slow, even for Hong Kong, and prone to stoppages.

As the men ferry loads back and forth between their factory and the van they work for, the stack on the sidewalk grows higher and wider and longer...

And it doesn't take much of a glance at the packaging to see the destination of the goods...

The coastal city of Lagos, very close to the bordering state of Benin, is no longer the political capital of Nigeria.

Abuja, purpose-built from scratch in the 1980s, in the geographical centre of Nigeria, was granted that honour in 1991 in a bid to soothe regional tensions inside Nigeria.

The port city of Lagos, however, a city of almost 8 million official residents in Nigeria's 2006 census, is Africa's second biggest city.

Lagos is the financial and industrial and commercial capital of Nigeria. And, Nigeria is estimated to contain over 148 million people, which makes it the most populous country in Africa.

Nigeria's critical mass of people have long helped it have thriving markets resulting in Nigeria being an economic powerhouse in Africa--and Lagos is the port town where the commercial goods enter Nigeria to be distributed here, and elsewhere in Africa.

As an aside, Nigeria is, literally, that black area, that area surrounding the river Niger (which means black in Latin).

Nigeria is a portmanteau word stemming from the Niger Area, the area around the river Niger, which was consolidated and administered/exploited by Imperial England.

Every package your humble scribe has ever seen on the side of the road, outside the alley, has been addressed to Lagos, Nigeria.

Educated rumour, which I have not yet been able to confirm with an academic citation, has it that every mobile phone handset in Africa has passed through Chungking Mansions in Hong Kong.

Given the scale of the porters' activity, I can well believe this claim.

Your humble scribe has, on rare occasions, seen spot quality checks where packages have been split open; I have seen every conceivable consumer good packaged for shipment to Lagos, at these times, spread out on the sidewalk, outside my alley.

It is true that there is much dross in the alley that I enjoy so much.

And yet that dross is a by-product of the furious activity pounding out through walls and floors of Chungking Mansions and other neighbouring buildings.

I am drawn to the chaos, the disorder, and the rankness of my alley because it births activity and value and commerce and worth. It births; it is a site of creation.

Many people enjoy gentility and a genteel life.

But, contracts are not really written on bleached, white, twenty pound paper.

Not in the heat of the moment.

Contracts are scrawled on cartons or tablecloths or the backs of envelopes by captains of industry. And then their lieutenants, their lawyers, are told to pretty the scrawls up.

Dainty, courtly dances occur in the clean and the tidy margins of life.

Gutters teem with wriggling, striving life.

And neither commerce nor creativity is genteel.

England's Elizabethan Era (1558-1603) is, from a literary perspective, associated with William Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, and Sir Francis Bacon.

England's Elizabethan Era is also associated with dog fights to the death, bear baiting with sabres, and the Star Chamber, that judicial/political weapon of tyranny which allowed its civilian victims no redress or appeal.

There is a duality omnipresent in the world.

Sometimes beauty begets beauty. But ugliness can also birth great things.

The appalling can be as beautiful, or at least as intriguing, as the beautiful.

Hieronymus Bosch's creations stem from observations on moral decay while precious metals and stones also come from the dark heart of the Earth.

Your humble scribe readily admits his "fascination with the abomination".

I, socio-economic rubbernecker, (up and down the socio-economic ladder) hope you have enjoyed today's riverboat journey to my alley in my town, Hong Kong. This quick visit to the heart of darkness.

Oh. And Mistah Kurtz? He AIN'T dead.

Tschuess,

Chris