Cheung Po Tsai's lost treasure

The dark cave enclosed all around me. Not a suffocating darkness -- a living darkness.

History lived in this cave. I could feel it.

On Cheung Chau Island (literally meaning "Long Island"), the pirate Cheung Po Tsai allegedly used this cave to hide his treasure from the Qing Dynasty navy in the 1800s -- the same navy he eventually surrendered to and became a captain in.

At the height of his piracy, Cheung Po Tsai commanded as many as 1,200 junks and 50,000 men.

The island of Cheung Chau, south west of Hong Kong Island, is only accessible by ferry or boat. My friends Sunny, Adelaide, Rebecca and Cian took the ferry from Central.

We rode on the ferry in the choppy waters on the same route Cheung Po Tsai took while pirating the canton shipping lanes around Hong Kong nearly two hundred years earlier.

My friends and I were one of the few foreigners brave (or naive) enough to face the cold weather in Hong Kong from the winter monsoons that have caused a land lock in northern China. The weather has been so severe, many of my Chinese friends have canceled plans to head home for the Chinese New Year.

Typically, Chinese New Year is a time when families come together from all over China (Read more about Chinese New Year soon). Heavy snow storms in the north closed down rail stations, leaving many families who were trying to reunite stranded.

I found relief from the cold wind inside the cave. I could hear the waves pounding against the rocks outside, breaking the silence. The floor of the cave ran parallel with the coast in a long line. I could tell water had washed through fairly recently from the amount of trash piled in the corners.

Interestingly, I am not the only one who became enchanted with the legend of Cheung Po Tsai. In Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, the villain Sao Feng is based on Cheung Po Tsai, except for the fact that the movie is based way before Cheung's time.

My friends passed through the cave, eager to embrace the sunlight. On a hunch, I went back in.

I suspected there was more to this cave than what met the eye. This time following my ears, I listened closely to the sound of the crashing waves.

My ears led me to a small opening near the bottom of the cave floor. I stuck my green colored flash light into the crack. A large slab of rock became illuminated. I glimpsed what I guessed to be another room of the cave.

I quickly exited the cave, begging one of the my friends to accompany me. Only Cian agreed to come. Everyone else did not seem too thrilled about crawling around in the dark.

Once inside the crack, Cian refused to go further. The crawl was difficult without a light source so I went on alone. I lit part of my way and then shimmied sideways into the darkness. My fingers felt out every crack, every bump in the rock.

My feet eventually found sandy ground. I propped myself up sideways, resting my body on the slab of moist rock.

Ahead I saw a sliver of light. Enough to light my way, but the crack was not wide enough to let me out.

A dead end. No forgotten treasure.

I had not found Cheung Po Tsai's lost treasure, but I felt strangely connected with the pirate. Perhaps he had hidden his bounty in this secret passage way.

I began crawling out away from the sliver of sun light realizing just how far I had come. Cheung Po Tsai's treasure would have to wait for another adventurer.

Jay Chau!

"It's Jay Chau!"

I heard a girl from my dorm squeal while walking past her room in my dorm. I was curious as to who could illicit such a reaction, so I turned to google for some help.

Then I learned. It's Jay Chau.

This Taiwanese singer is as popular here as Justin Timberlake in the United States.

I learned recently from my roommate that Hong Kong does not have a great music scene. She politely informed me that all the best singers come from Taiwan, not Hong Kong.

She could not explain why. Taiwan's music is just better, no reason required.

I first came into contact with Mr. Chau while busting out karaoke last week (sorry, no slide shows or video for that adventure).

The quasi-pop singer is more than just your run-0f-the-mill back street boy. He has a lot of versatility, something I learned during the wee hours of the morning while getting to know some locals.

Jay Chau, raps, dances and even pulls out a few Latin moves.

It turns out that Jay Chau even makes movies, or least makes appearances in movies. I'm supposed to watch one very soon.

While he may not be the hottest Taiwan singer out there, but he is, dare I say it, a talented performer who has captured the attention of at least one American.

Thanks to a friend, the best part is I even own 15 of his songs now.

Hong Kong stocks rebound, then plummet

UPDATED: Jan. 22, 2008 10:00 PM

An old man lay sleeping in a doorway on the streets in Yau Ma Tei. His hat fell off his face as I strode past. I saw years of suffering etched on his wrinkled face.

Just a few feet away cars whizzed by, horns blared and an endless stream of people pushed past one another. Colorful signs overlay the dark soot lining the walls of buildings. Vendors called out deals in Cantonese, a language still foreign, but more familiar to me.

News of the drop in the U.S. stock market last week seem distant here. The street vendors continue their business unaffected, at least for the moment.

When I received news of the drop, my mind immediately began to worry about the exchange rate.

But the effects of that drop can be felt even an ocean away.

Last Wednesday, Hong Kong stocks also plummeted the lowest since the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. Recent economic growth on mainland China may not be enough to prop up the Hong Kong economy if the U.S. goes into a recession, according to an article in the South China Morning Post.

But on Friday, Hong Kong Stocks made a rebound, while U.S. stocks continued to decline. (Read the New York Times story here.)

This trend turned out to only be temporary. While the U.S. market was closed in observance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day Monday, Asian stocks began a downward turn supporting earlier claims that mainland China's economic strings cannot keep Hong Kong afloat in the face of a possible recession.

The New York Times reported the Federal Reserve made an emergency cut in the interest rate.

The article sites the drop in Asian markets as reason behind fears the U.S. stock will continue to plunge.

I read the South China Morning Post, an English Hong Kong newspaper, this morning. This article sites a possible recession in the U.S. as the reason behind the collapse of the Hong Kong stock market on Monday and Tuesday.

(Click here for a summary of world markets. The Poynter Institute offered the best synopsis of information on the global crash.)

With both newspapers pointing fingers at the other country, what is the real reason? Maybe a little bit of both tied together?

Amidst all the trading, worrying and speculating about the stock market, the old man on the street continues to search for a warm place to spend the night.

He knows nothing of the Hong Kong stock's plight. From his perch, the outlook always seems dim.

10,000 Buddhas, 100 monkeys

The shimmer of gold Buddhas illuminated the path up the mountain to the 10,000 Buddhas Monastery in Sha Tin.

To my right was a sign, "don't feed the monkeys," it read. My friend from Australia Adelaide and I looked around for the monkeys.

Silence. Only tufts of weeds could be seen in the enclosure. We started our trek up the 400 stairs leading to Hong Kong's most sacred site. Buddhas accompanied us on all sides of the pathway. (Click here for a slideshow of the Buddhas.)

Sad Buddha. Happy Buddha. Pensive Buddha. Walking Buddha. Musical Buddha. Virtuous Buddha. Intellectual Buddha. Child rearing Buddha. Wise Buddha. Silly Buddha. Angry Buddha.

Out of all the Buddhas, I found one high up on the hill side that typified myself: Writing Buddha. He clutched a small pencil in his right hand. His features, curious and intent, offered me a glimpse of belonging amongst all these foreign figures.

I realized that my knowledge of Buddhism was mainly limited to The Eight Fold Path and the Four Noble Truths I had learned in high school history class.*

My trek to this monastery signified a phenomena in western countries. Many westerners, not just Americans, are currently trying to walk beside the Buddha. Many friends have told me recently of parents and friends who have recently begun to identify with Buddhism.

Whether Buddhism is a religion or not remains a matter of debate. It can be safely said that Buddhism has been described as more of a philosophy of life.

According to "A Basic Buddhism Guide," The Buddhist path can be summed up rather simply as:

• to lead a moral life.
• to be mindful and aware of thoughts and actions
• to develop wisdom and understanding.

Originally, I thought I was seeing the different forms of one god: the Buddha. I could not have been more wrong. Buddha was simply a man who found enlightenment and afterwords taught the principles of Buddhism, called the Dhamma, meaning truth. He does not claim to be a god and either do his followers.

Not all Buddhas looked the same in this monastery. I learned later that there are many different sects of Buddhism. This includes, Theravada Buddhism (Southern Buddhism), Mahayana Buddhism (Northern Buddhism), Vajrayana Buddhism (Tantric or Esoteric Buddhism), Tibetan Buddhism, and Chan and Zen Buddhism.

With a deep breath, the humid air filled my lungs as I clambered up another set of the 400 steps leading to the top of the monastery.

An older Chinese couple easily passed me on my way up the mountain. Compared with the escalators I took earlier on Fo Pook Hill, this climb seemed arduous (Read more about Po Fook Hill below).

Even with sweat dripping down, the top proved worthwhile. Inside one of the temples I found out there were 12,000 miniature Buddhas lining the walls in addition to the 10,000 outside. A couple kneeled down before an altar. This place was more than just an oddity for western tourists. This was a sanctuary for meditation with the Buddha.

Buddhists do not "worship" Buddha. Instead, Buddhists sometimes pay respect in gratitude for his teachings.

After reaching the top of the hill, Adelaide and I recalled a path leading downward that we had passed earlier.

Relieved to be walking down hill, we soon said farewell to the last Buddha. At the bottom of a set of stairs, a sign directed us to a local bee man selling honey and books. With a shrug, I urged Adelaide to see what this local had to offer.

We crossed a walkway surrounded by jungle. Looking down I realized we were walking through a maize of feces. I dismissed the droppings as from the local dogs I had seen meandering about and kept a sharp lookout.

A few meters up a small hill, I found the bee man's house. While we easily found the bees, the bee man was no where to be found.

We turned away, disappointed, only to see a pack of monkeys crossing the pathway we had just left minutes earlier.

We rushed down toward them, fascinated at both the noise and number of monkeys in the trees all around us. Jumping, fighting and even flying. These monkeys knew no boundaries or borders. They jumped on roof tops, sprung between telephone wires and slid down tree trunks.

Baby monkeys clung to their mothers while flying in the air, without falling off. Two friends picked bugs off each other.

(Click here to see video of the monkeys.)

I began to understand the sign about the monkeys I saw earlier. These monkeys were fearless. Several walked within inches of me. A mother and baby strolled within a few feet.

Each monkey seemed to have its own personality. One of the larger monkeys rebuked the younger ones, as if telling them off for breaking some rule unknown to the human eye or ear.

After 30 minutes, the pack moved on, marking its way with the loud clamor only made from using trees as rope swings, unaware they played near a sacred site.

Like most westerners, they had left the 10,000 Buddhas Monastery without knowing who the Buddha was. Buddhists do not believe in conversion, which was reflected in the lack of information on the site about Buddhism.

Unlike the monkeys, I left curious to find out more.

*I am not a Buddhist. My explanations of Buddhism are from research and conversations only. If I have made any errors, please feel free to contact me or write a comment. Much of this blog came from information found from The New York Times Topics about Buddhism, Religious Tolerance.org by agnostic Bruce Robinson and other sites. All facts gathered were cross checked on multiple sites to ensure accuracy.

Ferry collision near Macau

If you heard about the ferries that collided outside of Macau (near Hong Kong) last night, do not worry. I was no where near that area.

Nearly 140 people were injured after two high speed ferries crashed during foggy conditions. (Click here for the full story.)

Macau is one of two special administrative regions of China, one of which is Hong Kong. Macau is mainly known for its casinos.

Some students were planning to visit Macau today, but I decided against it before even knowing about the accident. I feel so safe in Hong Kong, that these kind of accidents seem rare.

What is not rare is the amount of gore shown on the local media.

I first noticed the wreck while riding on the MTR (metro) tonight. I could not understand the news cast as it is in Cantonese, but I saw the pictures.

I've seen blood, guts, a corpse and worse while riding on the metro. In the case of this accident, the news actually showed people seriously injured on the ferry.

In the local newspaper, I read actual reports of suicides, mainly of people jumping off buildings. Reporting suicides and attempted suicides seems strange to me.

My journalism ethics professor here at CUHK does not seem to agree with the amount of gore shown on the news in Hong Kong. I will be learning more about Hong Kong's media in that course over this semester.

As an outsider looking in, the level of gore in the media here does seem grotesque. But with the U.S. media's car chases, fires, reports of rape and murder, I wonder how different the two really are.

Clock burning

A long line of escalators wound up the Po Fook hillside, bringing a strange modernity to a sacred site hosting an ancient practice.

Cranes surrounded the characteristic Chinese architecture. The sounds of construction, inescapable in Hong Kong and the New Territories, drowned out the silence of the jungle-like hillside.

A family carrying colorful paper bags headed up the escalator. I presumed they were on their way to offer up sacrifices to their ancestors.

I later learned this assumption was both right and wrong.

My Australian friend Adelaide and I accidently found Po Fook Hill, a temple and urn cemetery for locals. And a slight detour (code for being lost) on my way to 10,000 Buddhas Monastery.

Our first clue that we had stumbled upon something unique was a pile of live turtles in an empty pond. I learned the turtle stands for a cautious spiritual search or path.

I felt a strange connection to the turtles -- crowded in this large metropolis of seven million people. Cautious of my journey through the temples and shrines of different religions. And on a search for knowledge of other religions, cultures and people.

Leaving the turtles behind, the long set of escalators led us to the top of Po Fook Hill. I stumbled upon room after room of urns. Faces of young and old men, women and children gazed out at me. Each block of tile sheltered the ashes of a person who had once lived and visited these shrines to pay respects to family members.

The ancient Chinese believed the soul lives on as a spirit after death. The practice of ancestor worship is slowly receding in China mainly due to communism. In Hong Kong, where the tentacles of China's government are only beginning to creep in, the practice still seems to be going strong.

As we walked slowly up the hill, panting and sweating in the heat, I began to notice a faint smell of smoke mixed with incense. Families were gathered around what looked like large metal stoves. Inside I saw incinerated paper. The locals were burning packets of paper inside the stoves.

I glanced at one of the packages as I walked by. A paper clock stood out on the colorful front. I asked Adelaide, who studied in Indonesia for six months, what was going on.

She informed me it was a common practice to burn objects deceased relatives will need in the afterlife. This includes, paper money, paper cars, paper cell phones, and even paper clothes.

(Click here to see a slide show of paper items sold in the market for burning.)

The burnings were not limited to imitations. I observed two teenagers burning a pack of cigarettes.

I had never heard of this practice before. My western perspective leans more toward dualism, or the existence of a spiritual and material world that exist parallel to one another. Like Plato, I tend to believe more in the existence of two worlds, the spiritual and the physical. While I may have examined the occurence of the spiritual entering the physical world, I had never even entertained the thought of the material crossing over into the spiritual world.

This practice lies at the heart of Chinese society. A study of Chinese villages in the 1970s revealed that ancestor worship lies at the center of Chinese family life, according to the article "Ancestor Worship in China." The living are expected to care for the dead in repayment of debts. In return, the living hope to be blessed with wealth and a good life.

Respect for elders, living and dead, lies at the heart of Chinese culture. I see this often on the MTR (underground metro) as younger men and women offer seats to the elderly.

Walking down the hill, an older man looked me in the eye as if asking, "What are you doing here disturbing my ancestors?"

I bowed my head slightly in respect. He smiled.

Food, forests, fishermen: The week in review

A view of the mountains from my bus stop at United College in The Chinese University of Hong Kong.

The symbol of United College, which reminds me of something from ABC's television series Lost.

Adam Schall Hostel, where I live with my roommate Candy Wong, who is from Hong Kong.

A pagoda I discovered on campus during one of my early morning walks while fighting jet lag.

The Chinese like to show they used the entire animal in preparing the dish, as shown by the head sitting on the plate. Yes, I ate some of the chicken.

One of the local fisherman waved to me at Avenue of the Stars in Kowloon, across from Hong Kong Island.

A Chinese junk ship making its way around the harbor.

The famous view of Hong Kong Island. The light show from this spot at night is supposed to be amazing. I plan to attend sometime in the future.

Near Stanley Market at sunset.

Visiting the local medium

With the faces of seven gods looking on, a young woman kneeled before an altar in a Taoist temple in Kowloon.

Her family waited anxiously next to me just outside the temple's entrance.

Not wanting to disturb what was going on, I tip toed around and peered inside the temple. An elderly woman standing behind the altar seemed to be mixing up something inside a large bowl.

I asked a young man from Singapore standing next to me what was going on.

"She is possessed," he whispered in broken English. He explained that the locals ask this wise woman a question and she acted as a medium between the Taoist gods and the people. (To see my exploration of the Taoist temple in Kowloon click here.)

I discovered later on that mediums who communicate messages from the spirit world are common in Taoist temples. The messages are sent through a special tool called a planchette, resembling a short, fat stick.

Behind the altar, interpreters surrounded her on both sides. Two of the men were looking on intently at the writing. A woman stood off to the side writing down the words that the medium was writing in sand inside the bowl.

Suddenly, the medium stopped her work. The young woman was given her verdict, walked away, met up with her family and only muttered a few words in Cantonese before leaving the temple. I could not tell if this visit had brought good or bad news.

As the family walked by, the smell of burning incense wafted over me. I wondered did the young woman ask about marriage? education? health? Or something that I could never understand?

Before I could think any further, another man stepped up, asked his question in Cantonese and the medium continued. Her expression remained unchanged.

Taoism, along with Buddhism and Confucianism, is one of the three major religions in China. In Hong Kong, Taoism is one of the six largest religious organizations, according to the Hong Kong Daoist Association.

I began to understand the popularity of this religion while leaving the temple. I saw several families walk toward the entrance.

I wondered what questions they had for the Taoist gods.

Tai Chi off the beaten path

"Hui!"

An elderly Chinese man pounded his chest and yelled, breaking the silence in Sha Tin Park. (Click here for a photo slide show of my walk.)

Surprised, I kept on walking, unsure about what was going on. Several Chinese men and women were doing some sort of stretching off the path hidden behind some trees.

I walked on quietly, not wanting to disturb them.

On a jungle gym down the path, some people were using the equipment for their exercises. One man was brandishing a long sword. I quickly walked on.

Later, I found out that these Chinese were practicing Tai Chi, a common practice in parks especially in China.

Tai Chi combines deep breathing with relaxation and body movements that flow through slow movements, according to an article on the BBC World News Web site.

Surrounded by high rise buildings and the sounds of construction, these Chinese were able to find peace amidst all the noise even the water falls in Sha Tin Park could not drown out.

Sitting on a bench nearby, I finally found the courage to mimic one of the moves. Almost immediately I felt a sense of peace.

I closed my eyes. The sounds of construction and traffic that were so glaring to me before seemed muffled by the water fall and song birds nearby.

"Hui," one of the men yelled. I opened my eyes.

I got up and walked down by the Shing Mun River. One of the local CUHK students informed me later on that the Shing Mun River is one of the most polluted Rivers around Hong Kong. Apparently, it is also the most smelly. (Read more about work to clean the Shing Mun River here.)

As I walked away from the river, several Chinese ladies said hello to me in English. They did not seem to mind that this foreigner with a notebook was invading their park.

Hong Kong lights

The night lights of Lantau Island shone bright, greeting me on my arrival to Hong Kong.

Originally, I had confused the high rise buildings perched on the edge of the waterfront as Hong Kong. But I learned from a Hong Kong resident sitting next to me that this was merely the country-side, not downtown Hong Kong.

The drive from Lantau Island (near Hong Kong Island) to Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK) in the New Territories near Shatin was largely uneventful.

But once the driver reached campus, we almost immediately became lost for the next 25 minutes. The campus reminded me of the streets of San Francisco, except narrower, with crazier drivers, more hills and cars on the wrong side of the road. My venture out the next day to check in with the University was no less clear. I have a feeling for the next few weeks, the word lost will become almost synonymous with the amount of rice I have been eating.

That is when I began to notice the city of Shatin across the harbor. CUHK sits in the middle of some large mountain-like hills covered in lush green foliage. In the dark, I did not notice how beautiful the area really is. (I will try to upload some photos tomorrow.)

Most Chinese live in high rise buildings in apartments. Only the very wealthy live in actual houses. The effect is large sky rise buildings everywhere, including a more rural place in the New Territories like Shatin.

I have felt the impact of housing shortages at CUHK already. I am living in a triple with two other roommates, which is not a problem.

Speaking of where I live, I have to say that it already feels like home. I just wish they had toilette paper in the bathrooms.