Blowing in the wind 

Mimi took a bite of the ‘happy birthday’ sign before I could cut the cake!

Another year, another birthday.

I was determined to keep this one low key, but I couldn’t help marking it. Somewhat literally. I got a word added to my tattoo. It wasn’t as painful as I remembered it to be the last time. But I started stressing that the guy was going to write the word back-to-front because when he put the stencil on my back and I checked it in the mirror, it read backwards (this is because in the mirror you see things reversed, but even after I accepted that explanation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that some awful error was taking place.)

This told me something about me. First, why did I give him the go ahead when I wasn’t absolutely sure? Second, why did I keep stressing in silence. Don’t be nice and stand your ground was the lesson I learnt while getting inked, and I kept questioning the guy about whether he could read it correctly when he was done. Finally, he took a photo of my back to shut me up. Heh.

I try not to tell too many people about my birthday, and I even went to lunch with a new colleague and she was blissfully unaware. However, in my Mandarin class, I had to admit it was my birthday because we happened to be learning how to ask the date and when your birthday is. Turns out my teacher’s birthday was yesterday.

I had ordered pizza for everyone for dinner and asked V to pick up the cake. I got home earlier than expected so I decided to buy the cake myself, but was disappointed to find that all the chocolate options were sold out. Messaged V to tell him I was buying it, and got a frantic call-back. Turns out that he had ordered one for me, and it was exactly the one I had been craving. Sometimes The Dude does get it right.

The day had a silly start. While eating breakfast, possibly because the topic of birth was ongoing, the kids started asking how babies are made, how exactly, but how does daddy put the seed in mummy. I have to say I became quite flustered because while I want to be honest about it, I really think that it’s too early to explain the actual act of sex. We managed to deflect the conversation which is really not my style. But I need to be prepared for the inevitable questions.

V asked me when we were going to bed if when I was in the twenties what I imagined a mid-thirties person to be, and if I fit the bill now. When I was in my twenties, I read Bridget Jones’s Diary and watched Sex and the City and they personified the thirties for me. I got married at 25 and I think I had my Bridget moments in my twenties, but yeah, I do think I’m a Bridget, Shazzer, Jude, Magda, Carrie, Miranda, and Charlotte if not Samantha all rolled into one.

Oh and also, I’ve been (re)watching The Wonder Years. Such nostalgia. There were words from this show embedded in my brain that I didn’t know were there until I found myself mouthing dialogues. But all, it’s really well made, depicting (the end of?) innocence in a time of flux.



What’s been happening

Nene was sick for about two weeks. First he had red eyes, but it wasn’t itchy or runny so I ignored it but it got progressively worse so I took him to the doctor and he had a slightly stuffy nose so the doctor says it’s an infection and gives antibiotics. Now, this doctor gives antibiotics at the drop of the hat, so I’m reluctant to give it. We decide to use the eye drops and wait for a day, and I take him to another doctor who prescribes eye drops but no antibiotics even though she checks his throat. But that night he develops a fever and the next day we spot white spots on his throat – which is the first time I’ve ever been able to (I remember when I was a kid, my mum would make me open my mouth and peer inside but I’ve never been able to see anything when I did the same, until now!). So we decide to give the antibiotics, but basically he has a fever for three days and no progress, so we go back and the doctor changes the antibiotics and drops, but after another two days, he still has a fever. Now, some people are recommending I take him to the hospital but I decide to go back to the doctor and he gives yet another antibiotic.

When there’s no change overnight, I take him to the hospital and the doctor takes one look and says she thinks it’s adenovirus because of the eyes and asks me if I want to get a swab test. Which was my aim of going to the hospital. The next day we get the results and it’s a virus. Not the one she suspected, but a virus which means the antibiotics were pointless – except probably preventing a secondary bacterial infection. I’m pissed for listening to stupid doctor.

So after a week, the fever has gone, but the eye is still bad and he has a cold again. He’s been out of school for a week, and fortunately had a midterm break after so he had time to rest. Take him back to the pediatrician at the hospital and she now thinks the eye is an allergy as is the cold. She prescribes a nose spray and drops for the allergies. I give it a day or two,  go to an opthamologist, who agrees that it’s allergies but prescribes steroid drops. This finally seems to be showing some results but considering the strength of the medication, his eyes are still reddish.

I feel so sorry for my boy who has borne all of this stoically. After the opthamologist appointment, I take him to a cute little cafe in Mong Kok, just a few streets away from the craziness of the Ladies Market. In a cafe with numerous coffee choices, I pick Earl Gray and Nene has a hot chocolate. We split a ciabatta and fish and chips. The flavours are unusual, but I’m surprised that Nene tastes and likes them all. We have a lovely time decompressing and go home. I decide that I need to do a date with each child more frequently. V tends to favour cha chaang tengs for meal stops with the kids, but I’ve noticed that they do appreciate places with nicer ambience.


We’re into birthday season, kicked off with V’s. This year was a big one and though he insisted he wanted nothing better than to be left in peace, his sisters decided to surprise him with a trip to HK. They are the fun loving types and I warned them that he would not want to anything crazy. Unfortunately, V ended up seeing their messages on my phone and the surprise was out of the bag (though he still pretended for their benefit). We had a lovely dinner at one of our favourite Chinese restaurants on his birthday and ice-cream cake which he requested. Then it was four days of basically non-stop shopping madness with the sisters-in-law (i.e. they proceeded to buy up half of Hong Kong; we watched in bemusement and were sometimes plied with the spoils). We also had some intense conversations, and ended up sleeping at 2 am almost every night. On the weekend, we went out for a drink with friends, the boys left after a couple of drinks and we proceeded to party till 3 am. I pretty much only go dancing in Hong Kong when the SIL is in town, and though I turn my nose up at the crazy of Lang Kwai Fong, it is pretty much the only place I know to go dancing properly (rather than shaking a leg to some uber trendy stuff). It took me a week to recover from the four days that the SILs were here.


In between, I’ve been trying to revise and submit a paper. I had submitted a manuscript to a journal a year ago, it came back with tonnes of very useful feedback from the reviewers, requiring major revisions. I asked if there was a hard deadline, and was told that there wasn’t. One year later, I get a note saying that my submission will be deleted if I don’t resubmit within 60 days. The fact is that I would have preferred to resubmit a little later on once I had finished writing a chapter or two and got my thoughts straight in my head, but I do understand that a year is a long time. Having gone through the process halfway, I couldn’t let it go either even though there is a low chance of acceptance. So I scrambled and wrote basically a whole new paper in about a month.


That’s what I’ve been up to. I have a birthday coming up, then Nene has his, and then we’re off to India in December. In between, I need to write a chapter of my thesis. Oh and did I mention, I’ve started Mandarin classes?




Election day


Hong Kong went to the polls over the weekend. This time it was a Legislative Council election.

The LegCo set-up is basically rigged. Only half is directly elected. The other half is elected by representatives of interest groups, and they tend to favour the government/executive (which is not elected). You’d think this would be reason enough to throw up one’s hands and not bother to vote, but it is actually essential to vote and ensure that a certain crucial number of opposition members are in place to block weird legislation (such as the one banning the right to protest, also called an anti-subversion law).

Thus, this election was about ensuring that that number of opposition candidates got in even as it has become harder and harder for them to do so.

To make things more complicated, the already fractured opposition or pro-democracy camp got more fractured because post the Umbrella Revolution young people have begun advocating the idea of independence from China. Some of them stood for election. So now we have moderates, radicals and localists (who think the radicals are not radical enough).

Sometime last month I received a booklet of candidates from the election office. It was very confusing. There were lists, some with five candidates on them. The number of lists was mindboggling. Did I vote for a person or a list? What is the point of the list?

Later, I figured out that I had to vote for a list. The votes go to the first person on the list. If that person gets enough votes, the extra votes pass to the second person, who may also get elected if support is that overwhelming (unlike though, especially for five people lists). So fine, I just had to decide on a list, focusing on the first person. Unfortunately, there were at least four people I was happy to vote for. This is the problem with the opposition camp – their support base was split four or five ways (if you count the new localists). Also each constituency could elect five to six candidates.

Moreover, I got two votes – one for the ‘geographical constituency’ and one for a ‘super seat’ which is elected by the whole of Hong Kong. For the latter I had no idea who was running. Turns out there was actually another leaflet that I missed.

At the last hour, an academic came up with a voting strategy using poll numbers. The idea was to indicate the sure-fire win candidates, those on the margin and those unlikely to win. He urged people to abandon those unlikely to win and support the marginal candidates. This way chances of at least two opposition candidates being elected was higher. This is a sensible strategy and provided some clarity, especially when some of the unlikelys graciously stepped aside and urged their followers to support the marginals. However, their names remained on the ballot papers and when the results were announced you could see that some eejits had still voted for them. What a waste!

People criticised the academic for influencing voters and skewing the election but honestly, anyone with a brain had to see that some strategy was needed. In some cases, it almost backfired, too many votes went to a marginal and the sure-fire candidate almost lost!

I staggered to vote with a bad sinus infection, and was lucky that the location was next door and I was done in 15 minutes. The turnout in this election was unexpectedly high – a record 58% of registered voters (which seems low to me but is apparently high) – and since many people waited till night to vote, possibly becuase they were waiting for an indication of trends, there were queues for upto four hours in one location. Polling was supposed to end at 10.30 but continued till 2.30 am.

In the end though, I was happy to see all my four preferred candidates got elected in my constituency and also in the super seat. Hong Kong also got its youngest ever Legco member, Nathan Law, the 23-year-old student leader of the Umbrella Movement. While people moan about the degeneration of the youth, I see a lot of active and critically minded youth in Hong Kong. Another two young people advocating independence were also voted in. It’s going to be interesting to see how they can move ahead with some of their action plans.




I seem to have attained a sense of detachment. (Or I’m turning into my husband.)

My desire to get out there and meet new people lasted all of 15 minutes. No sooner had I made a plan than I realised I didn’t care much whether it materialized or not.

Which was a good thing because I have fallen sick every other week, and had to cancel plans on people three times (twice the same people).

I felt bad for cancelling, but not particularly FOMOish.

Maybe because my expectations of people have dropped to 1.5-2 on a 10-point scale. Not yet in negative territory but low enough for me to coast along without feeling like my skin has turned inside out.  Low expectations FTW.

No really, it’s a good thing. A lot less angst.

I don’t even feel anxious about the fact that I might be friendless in my 50s. That horizon is too far away.

I don’t know how I achieved this, or even if it’s permanent (though I kind of hope it is). Perhaps it’s a hormonal imbalance (or balance!) or just the germs floating around in my body that apparently have not departed since a month ago.

I have decided to treat the husband as a co-parent rather than a lover. He is not amused. This might take some fine-tuning.

While most of this seems to have happened as a result of some unconscious switch,  one thing I have been consciously doing is repressing. Having practiced repression for about 20 odd years of my life, and been a much less volatile person as a result (albeit the odd instance where I flirted with alopecia aged 5), I am belatedly seeing the virtues of it, Mr Freud notwithstanding. So now instead of dealing with my negative feelings, I greet them, make five minutes of polite conversation and then squash them. Sometimes they pop back up, but I hush them fiercely. It works. I mean, I still dislike the people who annoyed me, but I don’t spend too much time and energy on them.

For the first time in ages, I’m actually able to roll my eyes at rude/passively aggressive/overly fussy people on the MTR and move on. Huzzah.

Now if only I could my physical health sorted.



Menstruation and kids


Today, I read a Facebook post and comments about when Indian men first learnt about periods and the attitude to periods in their families. While most of the men who responded were of a liberal bent of mind, most of them seemed to have properly understood menstruation in their late teens. I was pretty surprised.

I learnt about periods when I was about eight, maybe even earlier. Now obviously, I’m a girl so I was bound to learn about it sooner rather than later when my own body changed, but my parents didn’t wait till then or maybe I didn’t give them opportunity. I’ve mentioned in a previous comment how my parents were pretty free with their bodies around us, and our toilet door was never locked (because the lock broke and the door expanded and was not easy to fix.) In our house, a closed toilet door meant someone was using it, but if it was my mom or sister especially, that gave us licence to barge in and ask burning or non-burning questions anyway. And if it was urgent, we’d barge in on our dad as well.

Anyway, during one such barge-in, I noticed the blood in the loo before my mom flushed. I was alarmed. So my mum took the opportunity to give me a quick intro to menstruation. Honestly, the idea of blood leaking out of the body every month astonished me less than the idea of a whole baby coming out of a vagina. First, I had to be convinced that there were indeed two holes down there. Then, I had to be convinced that an entire baby can come out of said hole. I was pretty sure my mom was making it all up, because she had a scar on her abdomen (from an appendix operation) which we had assumed was where we had exited from and that seemed more plausible and palatable than some stretchy hole .

So, that’s how I learnt about menstruation, and that’s how my kids learnt about it at the age of four or thereabouts.

In the glorious tradition of my family, I regularly leave the bathroom door unlocked, even though I now have a properly functioning lock. I’m not sure why I do it, I don’t think it’s because I’m an exhibitionist. I think maybe because I’m just not used to locking doors before the urgent matter of sitting down to do my business. And of course, it’s a rule of the thumb that when mum goes in somewhere that could mean a moment’s peace, the kids will barge in. While most parents complain about how their kids bang on the door of bathroom, mine just waltz in and unload whatever urgent matter needs resolving (e.g. look at me eloquently scratch my elbow).

I think I tried to make half hearted attempts to lock the door when I’m on my period, but of course I wasn’t rigorous about it and the kids walked and wanted to know about the blood. So I told them. They already knew that babies live in mummies tummy for a bit. So I told them that every month, mummy’s tummy makes a nest out of blood in case a baby needs to come live in it. If no baby happens, the blood comes out. They asked me a couple of times, and then were satisfied with my explanation.

There you go. Menstruation done. They sometimes assist with removing pads from the pack and handing them to me, but usually, I try to lock them out mainly because I really would like some peace and quiet.

On the other hand, I find sex harder to explain. The idea of a penis going into a vagina is not going to go down well, I’m pretty sure (and anyway there are more than one way to have sex and/or to make a baby). I think I’m going to stick with daddy has a seed which he gives mummy and when you put them together they make an egg.

 How did you learn about menstruation? And how and when do you plan to explain it to your kids?

First days



Nene started primary school today. Both of us were nervous about the day. Nene because he didn’t like the idea of big school without his friends (and he’s not a fan of school in general even when he had only half a day and his kindergarten was very fun and easygoing because in his words “I need more playtime”, even though he is only playing from 12.30 pm onwards), and me because I knew Nene was nervous and also because I know he’s going to struggle with the new environment, long hours, and independence required in tasks such as finding, opening and eating his packed lunch, undressing into a swimsuit, etc.

By the time the day came around, however, Nene was resigned to the idea, V had firmly told me that primary school teachers are used to kids not being confident and an ostrich approach was adopted. I sent V and Nene off to buy a new schoolbag over the weekend, with the suggestion of a superhero theme, and that helped pump up his enthusiasm, he really loved his new Batman bag even though it is ginormous according to me (it was the only superhero one and V says the shopkeeper told him it was fine for primary school).

It was also Mimi’s first day, and she was not pleased to be going back to school (she is not a fan either, for different reasons though – too little structure and not enough friends at school) and that she couldn’t go to the same school as Nene. Although she had a tantrum on these two counts the day before, and I reminded her that I had promised her a present if she did not do any drama about school for a week, on the morning of school, she was okay. In fact, there was an endearing moment in which Nene went over to her bed and explained to her how he had to go to the big school but she could come pick him up one day.

We set off and Nene was chatty and excited all the way there. He was happy to wear his new school bag, even though it was a tad heavy with all his textbooks in it (thankfully, the school will keep them there, though I’m embarrassed that I didn’t even cover them or label them nicely, short of scribbling on his name in pencil). As we neared the gates, I sensed he was getting anxious and I let him know that I would be going in with him and he relaxed.

However, once we reached the area where all the students had gathered and it was time for him to line up, he got very stressed out. Again, I told him I would be with him, but he was not happy. In fact, all the kids in the line looked nervous. I chatted with a mother next to me and we introduced our sons. The boy was small and crying and Nene was even less happy that he had to interact with him.

Then, the teacher began to lead the line upstairs, and apparently, we had to let go of the kids then. I kissed Nene and he brushed me off, because hello, the line is moving and must not be interrupted. The other mum told me our boys were holding hands.

Later, when I picked him up after the first half day, he seemed fine. He told me the “boss of the school” had spoken to them (he meant the principal!). Also, he couldn’t find his snackbox and the little boy had shared some with him. I tried to get more details out of him but he clammed up.

When he got home he raced to Mimi, and they had a good chat about their respective first days. Or rather, Mimi talked and he got a word in edgewise. Mimi is now in Nene’s old class and his old teacher is her class teacher. It is becoming apparent to me that my children are conforming to gender stereotypes – despite my best efforts to make my boy a communicator, he basically just does not want to talk about …stuff. Except for exceptional topics like superheroes. Mimi on the other hand is a total chatter matter, as we say in our household.

Mimi’s day was somewhat overshadowed by Nene’s. I couldn’t go with her for her first day, but it’s an old school, I know the teacher, most of her classmates, and I know she’ll be fine. Or as fine as Mimi can be being Mimi. I later asked her about the new kids in her class and she said, I have no friends, I played all alone. I told her to shut it, because I’ve noticed from a birthday party we attended two days ago, that the other kids in Mimi’s class call her, but she prefers to stand apart. I have told her she has to take that step forward or she will have to live with being left out. She is unfortunately not taking my point.

Olympics in retrospect


After getting back from Japan, I got into the Olympics. Actually, watching the Games is always a struggle, first of all because of the time difference but also  because what gets shown and how is up to the whims and fancies of that channel, which is influenced by the local audience. So typically stuff in which the Hong Kong team is participating or at which China excels gets shown a lot – the latter means swimming, gymnastics, and diving which are my favourites but the latter means cycling, sailing, and lots of badminton and table tennis. Of course, the big ticket items like the important athletics races get shown.

However, there are commercial breaks, abysmal commentary and the odd switching of or choice of sports – for example wrestling or beach volleyball or even basketball, even when Hong Kong and China are not playing. On the one hand, part of the fun of the Olympics is delving into sports you wouldn’t otherwise watch (e.g. Nene insisted he wanted to watch the wrestling and I had to let him) but I prefer to catch up on these in highlights, ahem. And definitely not when important gymnastics events are going on.

To counter these deficiencies, I turned to a streaming site, where I search through streams and often found what I needed in Russian. Again, maybe the post-communist background means that there is an interest in the same sports as China (e.g. gymnastics).

While the swimming races were in the morning and were shown live on our local channel, the gymnastics happens at night. I tried and tried to find a replay, but couldn’t, and so I resorted to waking up in the dead of night for the finals. Unfortunately, one night I woke up and TVB switched without warning to cycling, and I couldn’t find a stream showing the event live. So basically, I had woken up for nothing. Ultimately, a tip on a mom’s group online led me to the TVB app which was on free trial and wonder of wonders I was able to watch replays of all the finals I missed as well as live broadcasts with better commentary than on the TV channel. Just wish I had known about it earlier, but I must say, I binge watched gymnastics to V’s frustration.

Below are some of the highlights of the Rio Olympics for me:


  • Watching Michael Phelps in every event. Him going up to his mum, wife and baby. How emotional he was on the podium.
  • Joseph Schooling of Singapore winning the 200m butterfly. Schooling had the fastest time in the semis, which I also watched, and he had said that if he won silver or bronze, he would consider it a loss, which I considered not in the spirit of the games, but when he won it was an amazing moment. He beat three veterans, including Phelps. This article on his nanny who’s been with him from the start touched my heart.
  • Katie Ledecky winning the 800 m final in style, smashing her own record in the process.
  • Anthony Erwin’s 50m butterfly win. Like Schooling’s win, it was a morning of amazing races. On the one hand, Schooling showed you’re never too young or inexperienced. On the other, Erwin showed you’re never too old or jaded.
  • Dimitry Balandin winning Kazakhstan’s first Olympic gold in the 200 m breaststroke. He was in lane 8. Proving that being the outlier doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance. Never say never.
  • Simone Manuel becoming the first African-American woman to win an Olympic gold in swimming, but also 16-year-old Penny Olenziak tying her for first place in that race. A nice article on Penny here. An important piece on the significance of Manuel’s win here.


  • The women’s individual gymnastics championship. Simone Biles is amazing, perfection always, but I was so impressed by Aly Raisman’s floor routine. Aliyah Mustafina took her loss like a pro, but I felt sad for the little Chinese girl who was so close to a bronze. An article on Shang Chungsong’s long and hard struggle here.
  • Biggest regret: Missing the women’s artistic gymnastics team final. I thought that surely I could find a replay the next day, but nada. I so regret not staying up at night to watch it, but the fact is I had just got back from Japan and couldn’t have.
  • Biggest frustration: Deciding there was no other way than to stay up and watch the gymnastics live and then still missing out the women’s uneven bars because bloody TVB didn’t show it and the Russian streaming channel wouldn’t load. WTF Russian streaming channel – your gal won! I think I have a girl crush on Aliyah Mustafina.
  • At least I got to watch the beam final, in particular, Dipa Kamarkar. She did well, and scored high because of the difficulty level of her vault. However, her ass touched the floor when we landed (the idiot TVB commentatory called it ‘posterior’) and so she got bumped into fourth. Wish she could have snuck in there for a bronze.
  • Samme Wevers beating out Simone Biles to win the women’s beam final. Biles had seemed invincible before the competition and was touted to sweep gold in all the individual events, but she wobbled on the beam in the favourite apparatus, and Wevers sneaked in from the outside. Never say never.
  • Thankfully, watched replays of the men’s gymnastics team event in Japan, because the Japan team won. I got quite invested in the Japanese team’s performance after that in all sports and V had to remind me I’m not Japanese now😉
  • The Brazilian team performed very well. It was nice to see the non-favourites do well.


  • Of course, Usain Bolt winning the 100m was a highlight but I would have been happy if Gaitlin won too (having won a 100m gold way back in 2004. That would have been one for the record books too – though Gaitlin has a doping record and he was actually booed when he came on.) In the end though, Bolt had to push himself and won. What surprised me was how nice he was after. He went around to all the Jamaican supporters and hugged them and took photos with them. He accepted a mascot that he clearly didn’t want and didn’t just dump it (my kids were more excited by the mascot than the great man himself).
  • Just before the 100m was the absolutely stunning 400m final which Wayde van Niekerk won in style breaking a world record. It was one of those races that gives you goosebumps. As a very very amateur athlete way back in the day, I can tell you that lane 8 is noone’s favourite and yet Niekerk beat his very talented opponents (3 other guys ran under 44 seconds) from out there.
  • The US women winning gold, silver and bronze in the 100m hurdles. I’m not a particular Team USA fan but it was nice to see the elation and camaraderie between the women.
  • The women’s 100m and 200m finals. I love watching the women athletes, they are so flamboyant. They come to the track in full make-up, gold chains, headbands and hair in bizarre colours. They’re awesome.
  • Braz da Silva winning the men’s pole vault. It was a bittersweet moment because the French vaulter who came second was very upset because he was booed by the crowd. While I’m sure it’s not nice to be booed, he made a rude comment about it in the press con later and got booed again on the podium, and then was crying during the flag hoisting. While I should probably feel sorry for him, I felt there was a certain sense of entitlement and ungraciousness in his behaviour – the booing of the crowd during the competition, while not exactly in the Olympic spirit, was not personal but because their own athlete had a chance for gold, and that countries like Brazil rarely get a medal chance, leave alone gold.
  • I was happy to watch a couple of Indian athletes including Duttee Chand in action. Chand especially ran very well in her heat.
  • Castor Semenya winning the women’s 800m gold. Again, there were frustrations raised about her hormone levels (hinting that she should not qualify for the women’s event because of high levels of testosterone, which I think is bullshit).
  • Team Japan winning silver in the men’s 100m relay. Of course, Jamaica had an amazing run, but I love to see underdogs rise, and that it was Japan made it sweeter.

I trailed off watching the main big athletics events, much to the relief of everyone in our household I think. This was the kids’ first Olympics and here are some of my observations about watching the events with them:

  • The kids learnt about different countries. I was surprised that Nene could identify the Jamaican flag. While the Olympics seem to be an occasion for a resurgence of nationalism, for us it became an exercise in diffusing loyalties. I tend to root for Indian or Hong Kong and to some extent Chinese athletes where present, but I also rooted for Japan, for example. The kids liked to pick winners before the race and they did so on their chance or winning – they quickly twigged that certain countries tended to win (like Jamaica in athletics or USA in swimming) or even certain races – and they would then ask me about the country their chosen athlete was from.
  • My kids do not have a lot of exposure to Africans or African Americans in Hong Kong, and their reactions to seeing black people is not exactly what I’d prefer. One of the side-effects of the Olympics is that they could see black people as powerful, talented and worth rooting for (obviously black people should not have to be super athletes for this, but it was a positive entry point for my kids).
  • The kids had a chance to watch women demonstrate strength, speed and athleticism.
  • Similarly, they were exposed to the idea that different body types can be powerful. My kids have picked up some fat shaming behaviour. I pointed out during the shot put contest that while  people might look (and possibly be) fat, they could also be extremely strong and skilled.

So that was the Olympics for me. What were the highlights for you?

Sayonara Japan – Takamatsu



The ticket we booked required us to fly out of Takamatsu, a small city. I had no real agenda for that day, though we had to check out of our Osaka apartment at 11 am and our flight was only at 9 pm so I belatedly tried to identify some points of interest to while away the hours.

Nene had gotten it into his head that he wanted to ride a Thunderbird which I wasn’t hugely keen on because I knew Nene’s interest was in the speed and the look of the train (it had a bigger head than normal) but that it actually wasn’t faster than a shinkansen. Ultimately, it turned out that Mimi didn’t want to budge that morning so V took Nene for a ride while Mimi and I hung out at home. This suited me as the gymnastics came on the telly. I had missed the Olympics till then but the Japanese men’s team had won the team artistic gymnastics final and there was non-stop coverage, so at least I got into the Olympics mode (though I had missed a couple of days) and I got to see some gymnastics events.

After Mimi got bored with the TV and cutting up pieces of paper, I took her down to the local park. The kids had been asking to go to a park since Day 2 of our trip, ever since we passed a park while in the train and I pointed out a sandpit. Here’s what a typical park looks like. Reminds me of the parks in India; Hong Kong parks tend to have more playground equipment and a padded floor, never mud.

Park and sandpit in Osaka.

The park was deserted though later another boy came along. Mimi was quite lost until Nene arrived from his ride, which as expected, had not entirely wowed him. Also, apparently that train is reserved for passengers going to the airport and V was questioned by the conductor.

We got home, had a bath, checked out and took a shinkansen to Okayama from where we changed to another train to Takamatsu. This was probably my favourite train journey because we got to see a lot of beautiful Japanese rural scenery (and if we were to return, this would be the area we would like to explore).


Pretty much standard posture of kids in trains

Takamatsu is a small town with a friendly tourist office in the station. Our plan was to leave our suitcases in a coin locker, have lunch and wander around. I had identified a Japanese garden that was supposed to be good (with tortoises one could feed) while V had found an onsen (or traditional Japanese hot spring bath).

After lunch, however, we had a series of mishaps caused by me. First, we decided it was hot and there wasn’t enough time to do the gardens. I was fine with skipping them in favour of the bathhouse. However, I decided we needed to waste a bit of time because I was pretty sure we wouldn’t need more than an hour in the baths.


Square outside Takamatsu station. Somewhere to the left of this photo is the notorious fountain.

The kids had seen a fountain in the main square which had fish in it and they were desperate to play there. I had promised they could return for a runaround, and so while V checked for how to get to the onsen, I let the kids run around the fountain. Now V was not in favour of it, warning that they would fall in, and at the last minute told them to remove their shoes and socks. In fact, he told me to do it, and I told him to do it. Instead, they just ran off and lo and behold, within five minutes Mimi had fallen in.

I was more pissed off with Mimi (for proving V right and me wrong) and myself (for letting them risk it), and of course there was the matter of her bottom half being sopping wet.

So I had to go off to the locker and retrieve our suitcase and Mimi’s clothes. Unfortunately, once I had lugged the heavy suitcase out of the top locker, got the clothes, repacked and tried to put it back in, I realised the key was stuck. That’s when I realised that there was a separate smaller keyhole presumably for unlocking the locker in between. Arrrrrgh. So basically, I had wasted 700 yen, AND I didn’t have enough cash on me to re-pay the locker. So I had to slouch back in defeat and get cash from an (understandably) frustrated V.

After I had found another (slightly cheaper) locker space and V had identified a closer public bathhouse because now we didn’t have time for the more elaborate onsen, we set off in a cab. When we stepped into the bathhouse, I was nervous because it was soooo local. There was this ancient woman at the counter who didn’t understand English and was just staring at us like we were aliens dropped from outer space (which we kind of were, this was not a tourist joint, but the neighbourhood bath). However, V was determined to enter, and kept talking to her and she finally called another old man, who was super friendly and told her to give us what we needed. Which was basically a coupon and a small towel and soap each.

Then we entered – males to one side, females to another – and it was another awkward staring session. The outer room was full of ancient ladies stark naked who all turned to us and stared in utter amazement (again understandably – I don’t think two brown people had strayed in there before). I got my things into the locker and Mimi and myself undressed and we went in.

From then onwards, the unexpected happened. Old ladies kept telling us what to do. I knew the basic – strip nude, shower before entering the baths, shower if changing baths. It turned out the bath was super hot. One old lady then pointed to another (probably medicated) one with yellow water that was not as hot, but also showed us that we could add cold water. We preferred to stay in the yellow bath. After a while in the bath, it was getting too hot, so we went back to the shower. Again, the lady told us to use cold water on our legs to cool off. Also she kept insisting that I need to scrubber to scrub Mimi. But I didn’t have one. Finally, she gave me hers. I was shocked! She literally let us – nay insisted – we use her washcloth. Which we did. I did another round of the bath, while Mimi played in the shower. We could hear V talking to some people in the male section.

The other ladies in the changing area tried to talk to us, but I couldn’t really say anything except nod and smile. The one that kept persisting was actually the one that I had thought was the most unfriendly initially. Which just goes to show…

We emerged refreshed and the friendly old guy at the counter had called us a cab and even came outside to make sure we got it.


Scenery en route to the airport. There are these amazing looking wooden houses, fields of green which are obviously farmed, but sometimes right next to them, a concreted plot with say a Toyota showroom.

We took a bus to Takamatsu airport, where we had a very very hurried dinner. Apparently, all the restaurants there close at 7.30 pm. We pretty much slurped down our soba noodles at record pace, quite inelegantly.

Then, of course our flight was delayed by an hour. The kids ran riot a bit, but I basicalled confined them to the back of the seating area. I knew I’d have to give them some screen time on the flight and I refused to have another hour of it in the airport, even though this was pretty much what every other parent had done. Finally, they boarded and we were off.




Konichiwa Japan – Kobe

I had initially planned two days in Kyoto, but since we had seen the must-sees on my list and we were super keen on the Railway Museum anymore, V suggested we visit Kobe. We had a JR Pass that gave us free travel on lines in Kansai district, and V really wanted to eat Kobe beef. Now, I had been saying all along that one could eat Kobe beef in Osaka itself, but somehow he was stuck on the idea of eating Kobe beef in Kobe, and my research did show that there were many more choices there, so that was that.


By then, I was exhausted with the research and the planning. I suggested Rokkasan Farm, which I knew the kids would love, but V shot it down on the grounds that the journey there was too complicated and I had to grudgingly agree. I threw the ball to him, and he suggested Kawasaki Goodtimes Museum, which has a number of bikes and hands-on things to do in, most importantly especially for V, an air-conditioned environment. And the Anpanman Kids Museum as another option, since the kids seem to be able to go strong for a whole day.

We exited from Kobe station and on our way to the Kawasaki Museum, we landed up in Habourland Mall. Immediately, the kids  spotted this lever and ball contraption and were glued to it for about half an hour. We had to drag them off in the promise that we would return, a promise that I intended to keep because the mall looked like exactly what I needed – very spacious, and a nice mix of brands, unlike the department store experience in Osaka that had been uniformly high end.


The walk along the harbourfront to the Kawasaki museum was scenic but extremely hot and when we got there flustered and sweaty, it turned out that it was closed as it was a Monday. Thing to remember about Japan in general – almost all attractions (except possibly shrines) are closed on a Monday, a key fact that had slipped my mind. We were all so disappointed, especially the kids who had dragged their little feet there on the promise of sitting on motorbikes.

On the way there, we had passed a ferry pier, so we decided to take a boat ride instead. This is hardly novel as there are a dime a dozen boat rides in Hong Kong, but it was something to break the tedium of the walk back and in the end in proved to be a very nice outing. The boat is old-style with ropes and rigging, and the interior is rather plush, with tables to sit around. We got the kids icecream to cool down at a very reasonable rate.

The tour goes around the Kawasaki shipbuilding area and dry docks which was actually very nice. The kids got to see a submarine being built. Then we went into the open sea, and we stood outside enjoying the breeze. On the uppermost deck, there are binoculars and a steering wheel, which the kids enjoyed playing with.

Although we just chanced upon it, I would actually recommend this experience, especially for those that don’t have a chance to go out to sea that much.


Then, we headed into the Mosaic mall, where I found an awesome and cheap stationary shop and V found a place where he could get Kobe beef for lunch. I skipped on the beef and I must say I preferred the non-Kobe beef that we had in Osaka.

Then, we headed to the Anpanman Kids Museum which is in the same area. It turned out that one adult could take two kids in for the same price, but we’d have to pay for an additional adult, which makes no sense because shouldn’t the kids be charged seeing as the attractions are for them? So I decided to leave the kids with V and go shopping.

I was actually quite exhausted by then and ended up focusing ironically on Old Navy, where I bought two dresses (identical actually but in different colours) and two tops (again identical and in different colours. I also tried on some nice Japanese brand but in the end, realised I’d get more wear out of the Old Navy stuff. And then I sat down out of budget and exhausted and whiled away 45 minutes instead of doing more shopping. My energy levels are really not what they used to be.

In the meantime the kids really had a good time at the Anpanman Museum, which is more like a themed indoor play area.

That evening, our last in Osaka,we decided to go to a local grilled meat place we had spotted while strolling round our neighbourhood. It turned out to be my second best meal in Japan. Ironically, the style of preparation was Korean, but the meat was Japanese. In fact, the restaurant even had a very apt map of Japan as a beef steak on the wall.

Konichiwa Japan – Kyoto


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Kyoto is said to be the place to visit old Japan – it is full of important shrines, gardens, old districts and geisha culture. So obviously, it’s right up my street, but probably the least attractive for the kids.

I had to curb my enthusiasm and pick one shrine, and I think I picked well. The Fushimi-Inari Taisha Shrine is renowned for its orange gates, and the kids surprised me by enjoying the experience as well. Apart from the eye-catching orange details on the shrine, the kids enjoyed washing their hands with the wooden ladles and ringing the bells of the shrine. But more surprisingly, they enjoyed going through the gated walkway. While it veers up the mountain, the gates are so close together that the route is quite shady and the slope is gentle. I thoroughly enjoyed my temple fix.

We had originally planned to go to the Railway Museum as it’s (largely?) indoors and we thought the kids would enjoy it, but we figured we’d done so many train trips already it probably didn’t make sense to get into stationary trains, or even moving ones – they have a steam locomotive ride you can take.

Instead we headed to the Gion area, where one can see pre-modern-style Kyoto buildings and where the geisha culture still exits (though pretty much only in the evenings).

I loved wandering around though it was really very hot in the afternoon sun, so we soon ducked into a little restaurant in a side street for lunch. Ironically, it was Italian food, but it turned out to be my best meal in Japan so far. The thing with the Japanese is that when they decide to do something, they excel at it (e.g. chocolate, pastries, whiskey, and now apparently Italian food). We had thin crust pizza, perfectly cooked spagetti with beef, mushroom, chives and a local pepper and a lasagna. The kids loved it as well. Apart from the kiddie bowls and the very gracious service in Japanese restaurants, they always serve chilled water. This is a surprise in Asia, where I had begun to think warm water with meals is the norm, but it did hit the spot.

On the way back to our hotel, we headed into the Kyoto Tower mall, mainly to buy headphones for the kids so they could use our phones in transit and on the flight back (Mimi has inherited V’s weird ears so that earplugs won’t sit in her ears), and we found a 150 yen shop (where everything is sold at 150 yen). I’d be meaning to buy a fan for ages because of the heat in Japan (and also in HK these days) and the fact that the station platforms in Japan are not airconditioned, meaning you end you standing around sweltering for stretches. However, the fans in the touristy areas were quite expensive and since I wasn’t sure I would actually use it, I was happy to pick up a pretty one for 150 yen, not to mention a few more as gifts.

One of the things to do in Kyoto is for tourists to dress up in kimonos and wander around. There’s a facility for this in Kyoto Tower itself, and I was tempted, but the heat decided it for me. It was nice to see women wandering around in kimonos though most of them were likely tourists (except older ladies who were clearly not). In fact, the previous day on our return from Nara we saw a lot of people in kimonos and were very surprised. Later, we realised there was a festival going on. Still, it was a treat to see all the pretty colours.


Read Part 1 and Part 2 here.