On Pushy Mainlanders and Other Random Notes from Hong Kong

• I love the J.W. Marriott in Hong Kong. We could stay in the hotel and have a perfectly lovely vacation without ever going out. Just be careful to follow the rules. We got in trouble once for not taking our shoes off before putting our feet up on the folding recliners by the pool.
• The passion fruit tea at Starbucks tastes the same here, but instead of an iced tea, it's more of a crushed ice smoothie. I'm going to suggest it to the Starbucks at home.
• We've eaten at two French restaurants on this trip to Hong Kong. 
• Food figures prominently in these bullet points.
• There are a lot of "pointers" in Hong Kong that we didn't notice before. These are people who, no matter where you are, politely point where you should go. The museum was full of them. Though the next exhibit was clearly marked, a person in a uniform would be standing there pointing to it. When we bought our octopus cards in the subway station (the card that allows you to use transit), we encountered an official pointer. As we came to the front of the line, she pointed to the counter so we'd know when and where to go though it couldn't have been more obvious. Clyde and I theorized that this may be a response to all the mainlanders. Which brings me to the next bullet.
• Chinese mainlanders have a reputation for being pushy and rude. Hong Kongers are especially annoyed at their bad manners. Clyde and I have noticed it in other places as well, such as in Yellowstone National Park and at the Louvre museum in  Paris. Busloads of Chinese descend en mass. They talk loudly no matter where they are. They sometimes cut in line. Occasionally they're just clueless. I'll never forget the Chinese lady who took a picture of a picture of the Mona Lisa. Though it was in the next room, she took a photo of the directions to the real thing. Perhaps a pointer would have been helpful. I've heard one theory by way of explanation. It might be that the Chinese were so isolated and broken down by the cultural revolution, that the entire population never traveled or saw the rest of the world. A couple of generations went by where survival was the only goal. No one visited museums or national parks. Now they have the money and freedom to go to places, but having money doesn't automatically mean you know social etiquette. 
• The best thing about the J.W. Marriott in Hong Kong is the breakfast buffet. They're usually good at Marriotts, but this one is over the top. Everything from traditional Chinese noodles and dumplings (see photo below) to fresh pastries, salmon, fruit, French toast, omelettes to order, and everything else you could possibly want. Yes, I even found the "frosties flakes."





• Clyde is very good at spotting the difference between local Hong Kongers and mainlanders. Of course, he can hear the difference between Cantonese, the language of Hong Kong, and Mandarin, what most mainlanders speak. My husband is very smart. (In case you haven't noticed, I didn't bother to put these in any particular order.)
• The coffee at the J.W. Marriott is the best in the world. I don't know why. It just is. Last time we were here we asked what they use and they told us it was Starbucks Pikes blend. So we started using it at home. But it's not the same. I don't know what they do to it here, but it's so smooth, rich, dark, and non-bitter at the same time. It's almost worth the entire visit. 
• This blog is brought to you by J.W. Marriott (just kidding - I wish). 
• Hotel sex is always better. I don't know why. It just is.
• There are some large shopping malls here in Hong Kong. You'd think a vertical city with no extra room wouldn't have malls, which we Americans associate with vast parking lots and suburban sprawl. There are, however, large, multi-level malls with giant atriums in Hong Kong, complete with nice restaurants and gigantic Christmas  decorations hanging from the ceiling. They are underground. They often connect one subway line to another. We're talking high end stuff too, like Versace and  Yves Saint Laurent - not a Walmart or Sears in sight.
• Speaking of Christmas, they advertise for it here, complete with snow scenes and reindeer. It's odd to see kids throwing snowballs and sledding on a billboard in a place where I'm sure most people never see snow.
• The subway is great: clean, modern, fast ... I love a good subway.
• Tomorrow we are off to Japan for a quick visit. Stay tuned.

Enough! I'm Not Sharing My Email Address

It doesn't matter that every other company in the world, from Microsoft to the neighborhood ice cream shop, already has my email address. I'm not giving it to PetSmart.

Way back in the 1970s I went to Radio Shack for an adapter to hook my tape recorder up to my LP stereo so I could play cassettes through the big speakers. I was very high tech back then, and Radio Shack was the place to go for odd little things that nobody else had, such as adapters to hook things up to other things.

Radio Shack was the first place I remember that always asked for your phone number whenever you bought something.  At first it seemed odd, then it became annoying. All I wanted was an adapter. Why did they need my phone number? Even then, I suspected some sort of vast conspiracy though I wasn't sure what it was.

In fact, it was the beginning of the data megastorm that now characterizes the 21st century.

What started as Radio Shack attempting to keep track of individual customer spending is now every company keeping track of everything you do, buy, look up online, and watch on TV.

Our world now runs on data - bits of information you can't even see that fill warehouses full of computers all over the world.

It's so pervasive we don't even think about it. Every rewards program is just a way to keep track of your spending habits so they can figure out how to sell you more. Every click of your mouse is tracked. Every web site you visit is tallied. Department stores know from tracking your cell phone when you walk through their doors. They even know what section you're shopping in. Based on your age, zip code, marital status, and lots of data that doesn't even seem relevant, they can estimate the probability of your buying a particular item. Have you seen the little TVs in some store aisles? They might be programmed to advertise a particular product to you, personally.

And companies don't just collect and use data. They sell it to each other. That's why when minutes after I look up prices for tickets to Hong Kong on the United Airlines web site, I see ads for Hong Kong hotels on Facebook.

The main thing that George Orwell, author of the book, 1984, got wrong is this: it's not the government that tracks your every move with the intention of controlling everything you do, it's big business. Corporations monitor everything you do with the intention of controlling everything you buy. 

I'm sometimes disappointed when the data gods don't work better than they do. Last year after we purchased a brand new TIVO system online, TIVO started sending me advertisements for TIVO systems. Wasn't it smart enough to figure out I'd just bought one? Why would I buy another one so soon? TIVO should wait a year and then push out the new ads.

But then the data harvest gets annoying. It's not enough that businesses passively collect our personal information and then swap and sell it to each other. Sometimes, they mandate it, as if they have a right to it.

PetSmart demands my email address every time I make a purchase. They already have my phone number. I use my credit card every time I shop there. What more do they need? But when I buy cat food, the check out clerk doesn't politely ask for my email address, she commands me to give it to her. The system actually won't process my purchase until she enters an email address.

I don't think it's the clerk's fault. She's just taking orders from above. Yet she must suffer my ire when I continue to refuse to give my email to her. I imagine "Corporate" thinks I'll just give in and surrender it, but at this point I'm feeling stubborn. I'll be damned if I'm going to be pressured into giving up any more personal information. It doesn't matter that every other company in the world, from Microsoft to the neighborhood ice cream shop, already has my email address. I'm not giving it to PetSmart.

To complete the transaction, both of us near tears and all of the people behind me in line getting agitated, the PetSmart clerk finally types in a fake email address (noname@noname.com) so the transaction will complete and I can take my cat food home.

I've shopped at PetSmart for years. I am a loyal customer. I appreciate their partnership with shelters to promote adoption of homeless animals. But this is ridiculous. I wonder if PetCo requires an email address when you make a purchase.

Your data is out there no matter what. To fight it is exhausting and probably futile. In addition to the physical "you" there's a data "you" and there's not a thing either of you can do about it.