Feets

I had a tasty lunch at an American restaurant today (dark wood, ads for cigarettes and alcohol), and a tasty Chinese dinner at Heaven and Earth, and then I had a foot massage.

This is all courtesy of my officemate, Sunshine, whose cheerful efficiency has shaped my experience so far most pleasantly. I just have to sit there in the office, and she will chirp, "Do you have lunch plans?" "Do you want to have dinner?" "Do you want to go to Disneyworld?" and these things magically take place without me having to lift a finger. It's quite nice, and a far cry from my officemate at Mighty Big Firm in NYC, who was perfectly pleasant, but never even went out to lunch with me once. (To be fair, I don't think he went out on any summer lunches; he was that busy.)

So at dinner tonight, she asked what I wanted to eat while in HK, and I said, "At places where I can have the Hong Kong experience. Where not just expats go."

After making some suggestions, she suggested, "You could also get a foot massage. That's a Hong Kong experience." So after dinner, we went to some random place on the 19th floor of some building near Lan Kwai Fong, and I had my feet massaged.

It kind of hurt.

And unlike getting a body massage or shoulder massage, it didn't leave me limp with relaxation. In fact, it was a bit stressful during the massage, because there was a lot of shiatsu-like pressing and kneading verging on the painful, such that I would think, "Ow. That's uncomfortable. I hope he's not going to do that for very long. Oh good, he's moved on. But -- ow. Again."

Sunshine's calluses were commented on, and though I didn't get the same commentary, my foot reflexologist (a.k.a. foot masseur) carefully looked at the dry skin on my toes with what seemed to me a rather judgmental air.

Apparently, some people here get a foot massage every week -- which, for about $25 per 50 minutes, isn't all that expensive, I suppose. But I shan't be one of them; once was enough. I enjoyed the five minutes shoulder pounding much more -- although as someone who gives massages to friends, I think I could have done just as well.

A little background on Sunshine: 27 years old, a second-year associate, an econ major in college, Ivy education both college and law school. She seems chipper and precise and logical and nice, the type to instantly act on an idea or task without dithering.

Last week, she mentioned at lunch that her old officemate had emailed her. He'd left the firm to get a master's degree or an LLM in human rights. Sunshine said to the other associate she'd invited, "Yeah, he said that he remembered having conversations with you and me, but he couldn't remember the work at all." They laughed. "Well, he never really fit in."

Curiosity piqued, I asked, "How did he not fit in?"

She and the other associate took a moment to answer. Finally, Sunshine said, "He ... was more into having social relationships. He didn't care about the work, which is fine, you don't have to care, but he didn't care to an extent where it affected other people."

Huh.
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So yesterday, I was a complete sloth. But it was so in order.

On Saturday, after bidding the parents goodbye, I fortunately had a firm event to attend (fortunate as it kept my mind occupied) -- a cooking class at an Indian restaurant. It wasn't so much a class as a demonstration, and a lecture on Indian cuisine and the science of cooking by the chef. Pretty damn cool. And the food -- wow. I've never had Indian food like that. Some of it was Bengali in origin, and apparently the Bengalis are the food snobs of India. The taste of each spice came through in a heady explosion of flavor: a deceptively mild curry that, after a moment turned into a burst of spicy heat that quickly faded into a gentle, pleasant aftertaste. (I know that sounds like a tripe written for a food mag or something, but it's true!) Dang, it was good stuff.

After the cooking class, I went with Sunshine and Slim, another associate who's my age, to Causeway Bay to shop. I wasn't really in the mood to shop, but figured I should go with someone who knew where to go.

I had a good time with Sunshine and Slim -- they were easy to talk to, and down to earth. Where Sunshine is fresh-faced and chipper and playful, Slim is elegant in form and blunt in speech. Both are highly intelligent, bilingual, hardworking, uncomplaining, petite, deceptively young-looking Asian American women. Being around them made me realize how often I rely on one or more of those characteristics back in the States. Here, I'm not the small, cute person in the room; nor the most articulate; nor the most fluent in English (that's what I was in Korea); nor the most hardworking. It's a bit terrifying, being stripped of all your usual crutches.

Shopping was fine, but having gotten up at 5 am to go to the airport with the folks, I pooped out around 5 pm. I shared a taxi home with Slim, who has been a lawyer for 7 years now, and is going on a 6-month sabbatical starting next month. After six months, she'll have the option to come back. Or not. As she wishes.

I asked Slim, "Have you enjoyed being a lawyer?" She took several moments before she responded. "Hard to say," she finally answered, carefully. "I don't have anything to compare it to, so I can't say, Oh, Slim, you should have been doing this instead. The hours are pretty shitty sometimes. They're not banker's hours, but they can suck. But it's a LOT of money. And you get used to what you can do with that money. On vacations, you don't have to worry whether you can afford this or that. You don't have to think about that stuff."

She thought some more. "Sometimes the people can suck. Your clients might be a pain. But I have to say, this firm, the people are really, really nice."

At that point, I had to get out of the cab. But I thought her answer was very interesting. And honest.

After getting inside, I wrote up the previous entry, and basically went to bed. And then on Sunday, I had my day of sloth: 15 hours of TV, food and lounging around. I got a slight headache, I watched so much TV. But man, it felt so good.