Hand-hammered Wok
(Originally posted as a note on Facebook, wanted it on the blog for posterity.)
Lynne and I had the opportunity to spend 2 weeks in Hong Kong for a vacation while I was stationed on Guam. We stayed at the British Seaman's club for $40 a night right next to the Hilton in Kowloon. Lynne had a friend there who was a jeweler, who also had a store on Guam. Lynne had met the jeweler, Johnny Hung, and his wife (Emily), on a previous trip to Hong Kong. This was the first time we had been in Hong Kong together with a plan, but that is another story.
Johnny's shop was close to our living quarters so we would stop in each morning to ask what they thought we should see that day. Each evening we would check in and let them know what we had seen and done that day. This particular day we were in search of a hand-hammered wok. Johnny told us we would have to go the Western District of Hong Kong Island. The Western District is the 100% Chinese, and very few occidentals ventured there. Lynne and I were adventurous and decided we would give it a shot.
We spent the day shopping on Hong Kong Island and may have even
ridden to the top of Victoria's Peak for lunch that day. Regardless, as we boarded the subway to ride to the Western District, the sun was low in the sky, and a soft rain had begun to fall.
As we exited the station, the tall buildings blocked out what little sun was left. Across the street from us stood a Hong Kong policeman. We had been told that HK policeman that had a green band on their epaulet spoke English. This policeman did not. We broke out our map, found where we were and headed toward a shop about which Johnny and Emily had told us. Our HK Policeman paralleled us across the street since this was not a tourist area.
Our first place of interest was a tea shop. They sold loose tea in bulk. Loose means the leaves were not in bags, not that the tea "played around." We bought the smallest container of Jasmine tea they had . . . 5 pounds. We finished it a few years ago. Another block or so brought us to the street for which we were looking. Keep in mind that as we walked it dark descended on this Chinese part of town with few street lights and our HK policeman nowhere in sight.
I soon spotted a shop with woks and cooking stuff. We stopped to look and two Chinese men were speaking rapidly in Cantonese. I began examining the woks. The men stopped talking and one of them asked in perfect English if he could help me with a wok. His transition from Cantonese to English was instantaneous and no accent. I told him I wanted a wok for home. He asked if we had a gas or electric stove. I replied, "electric!" He showed us one he suggested and told us the price would be $10 US. Can you believe that? I also bought a surgical steel meat cleaver from the shop for $7. We still have both, and they are in excellent condition.
We decided it was time for these occidentals to get to the nearest subway station and go back to our lodgings. As we reached the corner of the street, we saw and heard something that is forever etched in my memory. Rainwater was running in the gutter, and in the water stood a kitten small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. It was looking at us, and meowing as loud as it could to get attention. There was nothing we could do!
We made it safely back to our hotel without a HK police escort, but still remember the night we bought that wok, and were the only "round eyes" on the street. Hong Kong will always hold a special place in our hearts. I returned to Hong Kong in 2005, my first trip back since the Communists took over in 1997. It has changed little. Hong Kong still has its only currency, the Hong Kong dollar. And the vendors on the street still prefer American dollars. Gone are the hawkers who pestered me before shouting, "copy watch, copy watch?" They sold fake Rolexes. Most people like the hands of their watch to rotate, not roll around in the bottom of the crystal.
Wanted to share this with you. Hope you enjoyed! My kids have heard all my stories and are tired of hearing them. This gives me a chance to put them down in writing and think about them.
Lynne and I had the opportunity to spend 2 weeks in Hong Kong for a vacation while I was stationed on Guam. We stayed at the British Seaman's club for $40 a night right next to the Hilton in Kowloon. Lynne had a friend there who was a jeweler, who also had a store on Guam. Lynne had met the jeweler, Johnny Hung, and his wife (Emily), on a previous trip to Hong Kong. This was the first time we had been in Hong Kong together with a plan, but that is another story.
Johnny's shop was close to our living quarters so we would stop in each morning to ask what they thought we should see that day. Each evening we would check in and let them know what we had seen and done that day. This particular day we were in search of a hand-hammered wok. Johnny told us we would have to go the Western District of Hong Kong Island. The Western District is the 100% Chinese, and very few occidentals ventured there. Lynne and I were adventurous and decided we would give it a shot.
We spent the day shopping on Hong Kong Island and may have even
As we exited the station, the tall buildings blocked out what little sun was left. Across the street from us stood a Hong Kong policeman. We had been told that HK policeman that had a green band on their epaulet spoke English. This policeman did not. We broke out our map, found where we were and headed toward a shop about which Johnny and Emily had told us. Our HK Policeman paralleled us across the street since this was not a tourist area.
Our first place of interest was a tea shop. They sold loose tea in bulk. Loose means the leaves were not in bags, not that the tea "played around." We bought the smallest container of Jasmine tea they had . . . 5 pounds. We finished it a few years ago. Another block or so brought us to the street for which we were looking. Keep in mind that as we walked it dark descended on this Chinese part of town with few street lights and our HK policeman nowhere in sight.
I soon spotted a shop with woks and cooking stuff. We stopped to look and two Chinese men were speaking rapidly in Cantonese. I began examining the woks. The men stopped talking and one of them asked in perfect English if he could help me with a wok. His transition from Cantonese to English was instantaneous and no accent. I told him I wanted a wok for home. He asked if we had a gas or electric stove. I replied, "electric!" He showed us one he suggested and told us the price would be $10 US. Can you believe that? I also bought a surgical steel meat cleaver from the shop for $7. We still have both, and they are in excellent condition.
We decided it was time for these occidentals to get to the nearest subway station and go back to our lodgings. As we reached the corner of the street, we saw and heard something that is forever etched in my memory. Rainwater was running in the gutter, and in the water stood a kitten small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. It was looking at us, and meowing as loud as it could to get attention. There was nothing we could do!
We made it safely back to our hotel without a HK police escort, but still remember the night we bought that wok, and were the only "round eyes" on the street. Hong Kong will always hold a special place in our hearts. I returned to Hong Kong in 2005, my first trip back since the Communists took over in 1997. It has changed little. Hong Kong still has its only currency, the Hong Kong dollar. And the vendors on the street still prefer American dollars. Gone are the hawkers who pestered me before shouting, "copy watch, copy watch?" They sold fake Rolexes. Most people like the hands of their watch to rotate, not roll around in the bottom of the crystal.
Wanted to share this with you. Hope you enjoyed! My kids have heard all my stories and are tired of hearing them. This gives me a chance to put them down in writing and think about them.
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