Written by Jon van Wyk
I’ve just spent 15 minutes dodging, ducking, and weaving my way through the evening crowd and I finally have a seat at the restaurant. Not quite ready to order, I gaze languidly at the crowd inside and wonder where the restrooms are.
A shabby and obsequiously polite man in new shoes and an old raincoat approaches me bowing and smiling profusely with Mao-era dentistry on display. He is obviously newly arrived in the city, and his politeness can only mean that he wants something, but he is old and deserves respect, so I motion him to sit down, as he greets me in near perfect English. He asks me if he can talk to me and tells me he loves learning and speaking English. In his hand, he carries a worn moleskin notebook and I can see that he has written copious notes in English, phrases and vocabulary.
“Welcome Uncle.” I greet him kindly and offer him a drink. He tells me that he would like to talk to me for just 15 minutes in English and write down some new words. I find myself taken aback by the earnestness of this diligent and humble man. For 15 minutes we converse voraciously covering a spectrum of topics including how to barbecue pork, communist folly in Tibet, imperialistic aggressors in 1930’s Asia, until finally finishing with musings on the strange duality of capitalism in modern day China. Then, as suddenly as he arrived, he stands up, bows, and leaves.
I turn my focus back to the crowd and my attention is captured by an incongruous couple among the waiting throng, an awkward youth shuffling nervously from one side to the other, with a pretty waif next to him. She is beautifully dressed and made up for a special night out, while he is flushed, pimply and clammy – I compare him to a modern day Quasimodo next to his Esmeralda, who affects the bored, slightly helpless look that is so fashionable with those in certain cliques these days.
Squashed in at my table I am suddenly conscious of the several people staring at me, as, feeling suddenly magnanimous, I make eye contact with the sweating young man and give him a wink and a thumbs up, gesturing at my table, letting him know I will keep it for him so he can start his date quickly without the hassle of ‘table hovering’, waiting for someone to leave before he can sit down and eat with his beau.
He smiles in a non-committal, nervous way, and I turn my attention to the menu, which I cannot decipher. The young couple do the same and several items are compared and checked fastidiously and the couple discusses the various merits of each choice at length as they prepare to order. This is a big event after all, a first date – essentially a rite of teenage passage, so everything, including food choices, needs to be perfect.
The staff are busy tonight, this is a popular restaurant amongst the younger set. It is also the safest option for someone in my position – an emigré, a stranger in a strange land. Given the short time since my arrival, I am still not used to long lines of people waiting to get food here, and have not accepted that the service in many such establishments is frequently lacking. I mentally urge the staff to redouble their efforts as to allow the couple to get served and start their evening in a timely fashion. After an eternity of waiting, one of the staff is finally ready to attend to them. She sees them, smiles, and I hear several words from a universal language of comfort for any weary traveller in the world.
’Welcome to McDonald’s Hong Kong, may I take your order?’
Album of the month
Out of Time by REM
R.E.M.’s 1991 album “Out of Time” is universally known for being the pinnacle of the band’s sound, a perfect mix of their clean alternative rock with unique instrumentation and the ever-present introspection that REM excelled in. Best known for the hit “Losing My Religion,” the album is best described as a ‘time capsule of the nineties’, featuring haunting tracks that showcase lead singer Michael Stipe’s distinctive vocals and poignant melodies. The addition of mandolin-driven overlays add an unexpected layer, to many of the tracks, including ‘Losing My Religion,’ propelling the song into one of the band’s most recognisable offerings.
The album’s themes of disillusionment, love, and existential introspection, hum with the zeitgeist of the early nineties. This goes on to underpin tracks like “Shiny Happy People,” (full of heavy irony and societal critique), “Belong” and “Near Wild Heaven,” which all exemplify R.E.M.’s knack for creating perfect tone poems that effortlessly draw listeners into their introspections.
“Out of Time” is a perfect portrait of a band at the height of their creativity, nonchalantly balancing commercial appeal with artistic originality. Thoughtful production, by Scott Litt, further enhances the album’s depth, while Stipe’s ‘wordsmithing’ skills invite both personal identification and global connection. It remains a timeless piece of the early ‘90s music landscape, cementing R.E.M.’s legacy as pioneers of the alternative genre while faultlessly recording a time in musical history in a way that even now, never seems dated or clichéd.