Approving your lobster before eating it

One of the smaller islands that comprise the greater Hong Kong area is Cheng Chau, easily reached by ferry from downtown Hong Kong. The hour long ride to get there was worth it, since Cheng Chau is a micro-Asian city with its own unique culture. Boat people ring the island, and spend most of their lives at sea, coming ashore only for supplies and some entertainment. This was apparent as our ferry started to dock at Cheng Chau, because we could see into many of the houseboats around us, where children played with dogs while the TVs blared in the background - the whole family carrying on about their daily lives on their boats, balancing themselves perfectly in time to the motion of the sea.

But of course, the first establishment you see as you exit the docking area is ... McDonald's. Of course.

Navigating wasn't a problem, as the Hong Kong tourism board has done a fabulous job of posting signs and maps everywhere. Wandering along the boardwalk for a little bit, we veered inland towards a major temple on the island. It was interesting that this temple's forecourt consisted of a court of another kind entirely - a basketball court. Although I wanted to shoot a game of 21 with the locals, Saeeda was more interested in sightseeing, so I had to defer to her.


A little more wandering brought us to a trail that hugged the coastline, but took us up into a higher elevation. The views were beautiful, but they were hampered yet again by the ever present haze. Near the city this haze takes on an ugly brownish tinge, so it is easy to claim it as smog. Here, however, on an island surrounded by the windblown ocean, it remained impossible to see far into the sea. I wonder if the area's geography has something to do with the pollution - perhaps exacerbating it somehow?

Our walk was pleasant, taking us not only through nature but through family life as well. We criss-crossed the town on narrow streets that were bordered by apartments. The doors and windows to these apartments were always open, and you saw families lounging around in the living areas, with children playing in the courtyards outside. Street hawkers sold vegetables outside hair salons that bordered neighborhood pharmacists, all sandwiched together tightly to the point that multiple conversations were easily shouted across from one establishment to another. Life, to say the least, moved at a relaxing pace here, slow enough to make me wonder about going back to the pace of things back home (I do have to return to Chicago some day, don't I?)

Our stay in Cheng Chau concluded with a wonderfully fresh seafood dinner. We were reminded of how fresh, exactly, when we decided to order lobster. Not something we eat normally, at our outdoor restaurant this delicacy was listed at a mere HK$120. Our server went running inside before we had completed our order and came running back with a plastic bag. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do until she shoved it in my face, and I realized that the bag was moving. Inside was dinner, in the form of a lobster struggling to get out. I was a little taken aback - I had never stared my meal in the face before. Even though I knew how lobsters were prepared, I had never picked mine out. But our server wouldn't leave until I nodded my approval, which I did without knowing what else to do. How exactly does one check the quality of a lobster? Do you pinch its middle carefully? Visually measure the size of its claws?

The meal did not disappoint, and I quickly forgot about my close personal encounter with my food. May our lobster's soul rest in peace.