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There is such a thing known as the Common Warthog (Phacochoerus africanus) which inhabits much of the eastern parts of sub-Saharan territory. Warthogs are very bad diggers, yet they will use a hole-in-the-ground as a shared home base. Such holes are usually dug by an antbear or other ground-digging animalia. Warthogs enter these holes in reverse so as to be ready to flee from the hole the hole in top gear (pronounce the 'ear' to rhyme with 'pear' to sound prop'ly local). Phacochoerus africanus have a strong sense of community which means they know how to quickly settle into an area and call it home. Warthogs might be quite chilled about settling into a place, but if you've ever seen one become disturbed and hence uprooted from its home territory, it'll snort and shit and make a hell of a fuss about having to find a new home. Then he forgets about all his troubles and just finds the next antbear's hole into which to settle and there he'll be just as happy as he was at the last hole. Just like the Phacochoerus africanus, this Peeg was uprooted to Hong Kong last week, at which he had to find a hole or two to call home for three nights. It was mooi.
For those of you who are unsure of what a warthog looks like, follow this link: https://www.facebook.com/jessica.white.92775838/videos/457339771803/?pnref=story.
I spent three days in Hong Kong, arriving on Thursday 8am from Incheon Intn'l Airport. I had to apply for an E-2 Visa before 11-30am so that it would be ready for collection by Friday afternoon. (The NB here is 11-30am as this is the daily cut-off times for applications.) This Visa would allow me to live and work in South Korea. I made it to the front desk by 11-20am only to be asked, "Where are your ID photos?" I replied simply by shrugging my shoulders and saying 'Moer' though my mind was saying, "Guess I'm here until Monday". Anyway a Mormon lady who had also just applied for her Visa and had ID photo troubles was close by. She helped me find a photo booth and sweetly reminded me that Hong Kong is an hour behind Korea. It was only 10-30am by then, not 11-30am like my watch said. Crisis averted.
I managed to get my application sorted but soon after wouldn't you know it, my phone battery died. Luckily I had written down a couple mate's addresses. The mates were both at work by that stage and I didn't have anywhere specific to be so I took a bus to Deep Water Beach. I arrived there in 33 degree Celcius heat, thanking the gods of technology for refrigerated beverage else I wouldn't have survived. Shweet. Once I had enough of the beach I climbed on a bus back to Admiralty Train Station and headed for Mong Kok to try find Dean Frielinghaus' digs. Let me tell you Mong Kok is a busy place during peak rush hour period. Moving amid those people on the train, platform and streets was a bit like trudging through dense reeds. I managed to find the street on which Dean lives, but the buildings weren't marked very well so I went in circles, even stopping to ask a British lady if she could pull out her Google Map app. That didn't work either. After an hour of fruitless searching I headed back to Mong Kok Station and aimed at getting to Tin Hau Station to sniff out Jessica Lucas' place. Luck was on my side that time. I managed to find her flat and I was welcomed by Jess' open arms.
Day two wasn't so bad. I successfully met up with Dean, and caught up about life over a beer or four. There's no such thing as a liquor store in South East Asia. All your booze requirements are usually stocked in singles or four-packs at your local SevenEleven or other grocery store. We drank beer for a bit then visited the harbor to dop (drink) street-vendor booze. The booze-vendors never rocked up so we went jolling on Lan Kwai Fong Street, basically the Long Street of Hong Kong except public drinking is chilled and most of the activity happens on the street. Dean works Saturdays so he insisted that 'bru, tonight we have to have a chilled one'. The jol was so leka (good) that we ended up missing the last train. Classic. My funds at that stage were enough for a couple four-packs, though, so we just sat in the street depressingly admiring the Lan Kwai Fong Street scenery with beverage in hand. We decided to take a taxi home but the decision was vetoed automatically by Dean's realisation of having lost his wallet. We went hunting for said wallet, retracing our steps for close to a kilometer. Eventually we got to another SevenEleven and sat down on the sidewalk with one last four pack in destitution about the situation. One of us said it sucked how wallets were so easy to lose. Next thing an oak behind us interrupted to say that 'a wallet got handed in at the SevenEleven just over there'. Lo and behold, it was Dean's. Mooi, the adrenaline rush gave us a spurt of energy to jol for a bit longer. At 4am we were finished, though, and slept on the train station steps until the doors opened at 6am.
After a couple hours sleep Dean went to work and I headed to Clayton Mullins' place in Sha Tin. Mullins and I ended up chatting about the seasons (huntin' and fishin'), life in Asia and all the rest. It was gees. He and Christy made fantastic hosts and I couldn't have been more content with life at that stage.
My flight home the next day was a short one and I got back home to PyeongTaek on Sunday afternoon. After a beer and some street-vendor chicken (the size of a bantam rooster but more tender than child's laughter) I was pretty content with life. Sitting there I thought to myself, "Hyell's teeth, boet, but that was a lucky weekend."
There is such a thing known as the Common Warthog (Phacochoerus africanus) which inhabits much of the eastern parts of sub-Saharan territory. Warthogs are very bad diggers, yet they will use a hole-in-the-ground as a shared home base. Such holes are usually dug by an antbear or other ground-digging animalia. Warthogs enter these holes in reverse so as to be ready to flee from the hole the hole in top gear (pronounce the 'ear' to rhyme with 'pear' to sound prop'ly local). Phacochoerus africanus have a strong sense of community which means they know how to quickly settle into an area and call it home. Warthogs might be quite chilled about settling into a place, but if you've ever seen one become disturbed and hence uprooted from its home territory, it'll snort and shit and make a hell of a fuss about having to find a new home. Then he forgets about all his troubles and just finds the next antbear's hole into which to settle and there he'll be just as happy as he was at the last hole. Just like the Phacochoerus africanus, this Peeg was uprooted to Hong Kong last week, at which he had to find a hole or two to call home for three nights. It was mooi.
For those of you who are unsure of what a warthog looks like, follow this link: https://www.facebook.com/jessica.white.92775838/videos/457339771803/?pnref=story.
I spent three days in Hong Kong, arriving on Thursday 8am from Incheon Intn'l Airport. I had to apply for an E-2 Visa before 11-30am so that it would be ready for collection by Friday afternoon. (The NB here is 11-30am as this is the daily cut-off times for applications.) This Visa would allow me to live and work in South Korea. I made it to the front desk by 11-20am only to be asked, "Where are your ID photos?" I replied simply by shrugging my shoulders and saying 'Moer' though my mind was saying, "Guess I'm here until Monday". Anyway a Mormon lady who had also just applied for her Visa and had ID photo troubles was close by. She helped me find a photo booth and sweetly reminded me that Hong Kong is an hour behind Korea. It was only 10-30am by then, not 11-30am like my watch said. Crisis averted.
I managed to get my application sorted but soon after wouldn't you know it, my phone battery died. Luckily I had written down a couple mate's addresses. The mates were both at work by that stage and I didn't have anywhere specific to be so I took a bus to Deep Water Beach. I arrived there in 33 degree Celcius heat, thanking the gods of technology for refrigerated beverage else I wouldn't have survived. Shweet. Once I had enough of the beach I climbed on a bus back to Admiralty Train Station and headed for Mong Kok to try find Dean Frielinghaus' digs. Let me tell you Mong Kok is a busy place during peak rush hour period. Moving amid those people on the train, platform and streets was a bit like trudging through dense reeds. I managed to find the street on which Dean lives, but the buildings weren't marked very well so I went in circles, even stopping to ask a British lady if she could pull out her Google Map app. That didn't work either. After an hour of fruitless searching I headed back to Mong Kok Station and aimed at getting to Tin Hau Station to sniff out Jessica Lucas' place. Luck was on my side that time. I managed to find her flat and I was welcomed by Jess' open arms.
Day two wasn't so bad. I successfully met up with Dean, and caught up about life over a beer or four. There's no such thing as a liquor store in South East Asia. All your booze requirements are usually stocked in singles or four-packs at your local SevenEleven or other grocery store. We drank beer for a bit then visited the harbor to dop (drink) street-vendor booze. The booze-vendors never rocked up so we went jolling on Lan Kwai Fong Street, basically the Long Street of Hong Kong except public drinking is chilled and most of the activity happens on the street. Dean works Saturdays so he insisted that 'bru, tonight we have to have a chilled one'. The jol was so leka (good) that we ended up missing the last train. Classic. My funds at that stage were enough for a couple four-packs, though, so we just sat in the street depressingly admiring the Lan Kwai Fong Street scenery with beverage in hand. We decided to take a taxi home but the decision was vetoed automatically by Dean's realisation of having lost his wallet. We went hunting for said wallet, retracing our steps for close to a kilometer. Eventually we got to another SevenEleven and sat down on the sidewalk with one last four pack in destitution about the situation. One of us said it sucked how wallets were so easy to lose. Next thing an oak behind us interrupted to say that 'a wallet got handed in at the SevenEleven just over there'. Lo and behold, it was Dean's. Mooi, the adrenaline rush gave us a spurt of energy to jol for a bit longer. At 4am we were finished, though, and slept on the train station steps until the doors opened at 6am.
After a couple hours sleep Dean went to work and I headed to Clayton Mullins' place in Sha Tin. Mullins and I ended up chatting about the seasons (huntin' and fishin'), life in Asia and all the rest. It was gees. He and Christy made fantastic hosts and I couldn't have been more content with life at that stage.
My flight home the next day was a short one and I got back home to PyeongTaek on Sunday afternoon. After a beer and some street-vendor chicken (the size of a bantam rooster but more tender than child's laughter) I was pretty content with life. Sitting there I thought to myself, "Hyell's teeth, boet, but that was a lucky weekend."
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