Rockstar does Hong Kong Wetland Park In Tin Shui Wai, “City of Sadness”

Tin Shui Wai, as seen from inside the HK Wetland Park... I love how the buildings seem to rise up out of all the park shrubbery...

Finally here are more pics from our periodic HK Wetlands Park outings…

Laundry and Posters in sometime Tin Shui Wai

We thought this looked like your average HDB in say, Tampines or Eunos in Singapore (where I rented my first room for SGD 300 a decade ago) so what with Wetland Park nearby, we happily recommended it to friends on a budget looking to stay for a few months, fresh out of college. Which was when we discovered Tin Shui Wai‘s nickname is City of Misery/ Sadness because of some high-profile cases of domestic violence and suicides in the past.

We parked and walked thru the town to the Wetlands Park…

We’d been frequenting the Hong Kong Wetland Park for some time and even toyed with having Rockstar’s birthday party in the park cafeteria (Okok we will cater some non-“HK fastfood fare” to supplement).

"Fastfood," HK style!

There’s a big bunch of indoor educational activities as well as a playground (that unfortunately has a min height requirement of 100cm 🙁 Rockstar’s not there yet)

Check out this wall at the entrance to the park, made from recycled oyster shells... Loves!

Thru the entrance, to the great indoors and outdoors

 You can seriously spend a long, busy, educational (translation: guilt-free, affirming) day with your child here.

Whether it's letting your rockstar stomp about outdoors on the slightly moving boardwalk...

Which leads adventurously into the wilderness (umm, sort of)

In low tide and the right season you get lotsa mud skippers and crabs up close, from this walkway… Rockstar’s run around in the park (though not the actual boardwalk, obviously) with the local kids here before – there”s always local kids here, a far more common sight than obviously expat kids (though you do see some, very occasionally)…

The funniest thing is Rockstar speaks no Cantonese, and the kids speak zero  English, yet somehow they can understand each other perfectly…

Various kiddie craft stations in the gift shop

Like so... This is Rockstar making"keychain" bottles of decorative sand for grandparents...

(Btw Rockstar’s wearing real Ralph Lauren bot on sale, because I noticed the dad had a cheapo pasar malam t-shirt bought months earlier that looks just like it!)

And a scented candle with lotsa sparkles in it for the dad to put in the toilet, of all things...

(The molten blue wax is kept in a thermos box in hot water – and those are the hands of one of the local college kids manning the station and helping all the little kids get their crafts done)

Why go outside on a rainy day? Meet some of the umpteen critters they now have tanks indoors as well!

Now you know boy crabs from girl crabs!

The way to more entertainment!

See?

An unfair fight... (You can move that claw but seriously, HOW tall do they think this crab is??)

So, boys and girls, is the above a boy crab or a girl crab? (Who the hell cares)

This Is Not A Plastic Croc...

Every time we’re here someone nearby thinks these guys are fake… If you stare at them long enough you’ll see their claws start to move… Or else their eyes start to follow you… And they have strangely clean teeth… For a croc… (WHY do I think anyone cares?)

Auditorium surrounded by exhibits and umpteen touch screen games

OK – try these games on for size! (There are just loads more than the few we played with… Ditto interactive exhibits…

Rockstar is feeding these virtual bats and selecting a good urban home for them

This one's a Chinese Sinseh Game where you pick the right herbs to cure various ailments

So we suck...

So sue us…

Rockstar does a mean Whatever This Thing Is though...

Rockstar going up and down in the section full of conservation messages

( The photo above doesn’t do this place justice, there are umpteen interactive displays for kids to read and press tantalizing buttons and touch screen displays, including How Much Water Does It Take To Make a Hamburger Or Pair Of Jeans?)

And so lastly, a public service message: Frogs have feelings too 🙂

 

Posted in aileensml, Traveling With Rockstar | 3 Comments

Rockstarism #132

Best things in life are (almost) free…

One of my girlfriends has a boy Rockstar’s age who often woos her with little trinkets – you know, the bead threading sections they have in school (at least, Rockstar’s school has one) where I imagine kids love to make bracelets and necklaces and so on… Except maybe my kid, who’s told me before he never goes to that area, just not interested…

So anyway, my friend’s little boy presents her with jewelry from his beading efforts in school <swoon> It makes me both Wow, she has such a charmer and Y-eah I can forget it, my son is so not like that (though a mum can dream :D)

Rockstar knows it too – eye-ing them sitting next to us one day and a bracelet (I think it was) being presented with a little flourish, he says to me, “But I am really not like that, Mum. You know I’m not like that, right…”

 

“Before” Shot… “Keychain” above, bead bracelets from Stanley Market below

So instead, Rockstar produced a “keychain” he made in school shortly after. And is very proud of it, and checks whether I’m using it (this is also like the father) except I was afraid I might ruin it on a keyring/ chucked about in my handbag, so I went looking for beads in Stanley Market (where I also got his spikey bag and “disposable” tees) to turn it into a necklace…

 

“After” Shot…

Anyway I was just thinking his father said almost the exact same words to me back when we were still dating… “I’m not like that… You know that right….”

And now I have two of em. Sigh.

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Of Going After An Overcharging Hong Kong Taxi Driver

On a recent first visit  in years, my fairly-independent-when-it-comes-to-traveling 65 year old parents hopped a cab (hours before we were expecting them), from the airport to our home. Handing the cabbie a HKD 500 note, my father later relayed that the driver thrust a HKD 100 note at him as change, then sped off before he could ask how the fare came to HKD 400 when the taxi meter (before toll) came to about HKD 246.

Here’s the experience.

7 pm on a Fri night: My dad writes to the general information email address of the Hong Kong Tourism Board.

6 pm the next day Saturday: An officer at HKTB’s Visitor Services replies explaining the email has been sent to the wrong place and forwards it to the Transport Complaints Unit for him (btw HK cabs display a taxi complaints hotline number to call too).

Saturday evening email from a government office impresses my dad who sends a verbose thank you.

3.47 pm the following Mon: My dad receives a further polite, pleasant email from the officer at HKTB’s Visitor Services containing several website links for information about taxi services here and here.

11.33 am Wed morning: Someone working at the Quality Taxi Services Steering Committee emails:

1) An apology for an “unpleasant ride”

2) A cab fare estimate from the airport to our home (about HKD 320, including toll but excluding additional HKD5 for each piece of luggage greater than total dimension 140cm)… So conservatively, though one of their bags probably doesn’t qualify, about HKD 335… (Cab driver took HKD 400.. My dad says something along the lines of don’t bother trying to recover it I just hate being taken for a ride)

Alternate means of transport

3) Assurance the Transport Department would be informed and the cab owner would receive an advisory letter requesting them to “instruct the drivers for rectification accordingly”

4) Further assurance there’ll be an Overcharging Is Prohibited By Law-type message disseminated in the Taxi Newsletter (Uh, there’s a whole newsletter?) which, it’s explained, is a regular publication distributed to frontline taxi drivers.

5) Transport Complaints Unit email and hotline information for lodging further complaint if my dad is willing to serve as witness in a police investigation

(I think this is quite a standard thing they make available to you because we’ve called the hotline about being overcharged before, after taking down the time, departure and destination, and cabbie license plate, they will say you have two options, either (a) prosecution or (b) monitoring of cabbie. And judging by how often Rockstar and I speaking in English get overcharged, I’m guessing people who actually notice and then bother to call it in will then pick option (b)).

Oh and did I mention all the correspondence was in perfect English?

My dad, relatively preoccupied by all this correspondence, was very impressed. (By the whole handling of this case I mean, not the perfect English.)

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Rockstarism #131

After Rockstar ignores the umpteenth waiter trying to engage him…

Prickly Rockstar

Me: Have you noticed how often your mother has to apologize for your behavior? Don’t you think a compliment or two might be nice sometime?

Rockstar: I don’t like compliments
Me: But you like your mother, right?
Rockstar: I need to think.

Me: Well here’s another think. It pays to get your mother in a good mood if you’re hoping for a marshmallow.

Rockstar: <grin>Hee. <mumble> I don’t need one now.

Me: You think your mother has short memory issit?

(We got that at Stanley Market moments ago... HKD 179... I should probably have bargained but we were rushing to beat the rain)

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Hong Kong Bullies In Playtown

Rockstar’s been recovering from an ear infection, so we’ve been letting him sleep on his own schedule – which meant not waking in time for summer camp today… Then in the afternoon, a trip to his favorite Wellcome (car-shaped shopping cart, large selection of breads and buns, fish tanks) morphed into a brief Playtown excursion because all 3 shopping center coin rides weren’t working.

I always have this impression local Hong Kong kids are super-well-behaved in general. As in, I get self-conscious if Rockstar acts up in public particularly in more local-y areas. Hongkie friends have tried to erm, adjust this view, telling me there is some serious misbehavior out there, but today was the first time I really saw it.

So there’s a bunch of ~5-7 year olds running around noisily in the “ballistics” zone, which is foam balls and air guns and footstools/ ball vessels. I pick up a plastic footstool and follow Rockstar to the upper deck. Minutes later, I feel a tap on my shoulder.

 

Part of the ballistics area

Politely, a boy who looks to be 5 or 6 asks me to give him the footstool Rockstar is standing on, “Jie-jie,” he addresses me, “that happens to be mine.” I’m a lot slower in Cantonese, and having not encountered this previously (we rarely come when it’s crowded with older kids), I turn in surprise and ask him why, in Cantonese (rather than shut him down by speaking English and pretending I don’t understand him). There are like, 20 vacant footstools littering the area.

“Because,” he explains patiently, “my friends say these are all mine.” Then I notice another larger child from the same playdate group trying to pelt Rockstar with foam balls. Not goodnaturedly. He’s not trying to play, he’s looking to drive Rockstar off. Bloody hell, Rockstar is a small 3.5 years, the youngest of these kids has to be 5 or 6, the one trying to pelt Rockstar looks about 8.

I glare at the fat kid with the shaven head throwing the ball, and he scowls but stops. Except the first child has decided our time’s up with the footstool, and sits about 5 feet from us, glowering. I pointedly let Rockstar finish, much to these kids’ displeasure (we were not playing anywhere near them to begin with, they just decided no one else was to play in the upper and lower decks or touch any of the umpteen footstools and buckets lying about- uh, excuse me, this is a massive playground that some of my ex colleagues once estimated cost several million HKD initial setup expense (apparently it was set up by a Mummy) – you want to own it then make it to college, come out and get a well-paying job and then you can buy up the whole bloody thing). When we finish shooting every foam ball in our area is when I get Rockstar interested in something else .

Later when we walk by, we see the bullies now in a loud argument with a dad. They’re all local and speaking in Cantonese, and I initially assume from the way the bullies are yelling at this local dad that they’re all the same party. Until I realize he’s trying to get his own son (who looks about  5 or 6) to leave the area. “If you insist on staying, Daddy can’t protect you from these kids.” There are 4 or 5 of em rounding him and his son seriously yelling about how they aren’t welcome, and –

Hang on. One of the things I hear the lone girl in the group yell at the man – Lei Gau Ngor – that means “You messed with me,” (which can be in a not-savory way) in Cantonese right? There’s a little boy who’s yelling similar, but – the girl yelling at someone’s dad. She’s a skinny little thing – she doesn’t look at all like a bully. But there she is, yelling at this freaked out dad (who is saying I didn’t Gau Lei), right along with the bully boys. In amazement, I step into the area, “Who is in charge of these children??”

At my English (and possibly because there are now two parents in the area) the bullies stop yelling at Poor Lone Dad And Son (who btw is determined to stay in the area – respect). Is it my imagination or does the little girl back off the quickest? Mr I Own All The Footstools is still scowling at me and picking up all the stools away from Rockstar and me, saying something rude about “these people” under his breath in Cantonese.

Poor Lone Dad replies, “I don’t know, but they are really… impolite,” in heavily accented English. (Uh, dude – these kids are freaking foaming at the mouth.)

We look around, but there isn’t a grownup in sight that we could possibly attribute to these feral children, not even a helper. Rockstar plays for awhile under my uneasy, watchful eye before wandering off to try something else, even as PLD’s son takes my hand and asks us to join them.

Maybe 5 mins after we leave the area, I see Poor Lone Dad getting one of the Playtown attendants. Thinking he might need help, I wave and call out to the attendant that we had the same problem with those kids. That’s when another one or two attendants join in. But Rockstar is engrossed too far away for me to walk all the way up to the group of attendants/PLD / a couple Hong Kong women who turn out to be the bullies’ mums with helpers in attendance to boot. (Where was everyone earlier?? Did all the grownups avert their eyes and inch away from the crime scene? Those kids were like the proverbial 300lb gorilla taking a giant crap on your sofa as you sat next to it pretending you didn’t smell anything).

I don’t want to leave Rockstar, because two local children near him in the new area have just gotten into a screaming fight over foam building blocks and a Chinese nanny (speaking in the accented Cantonese of a Mainlander) then hauls one off the other before comforting the one bawling underneath. In front of them, a newspaper-reading Asian dad briefly gets to his feet as the fight is broken up. He says nothing. The nanny does not look or speak to the child she has hauled off her charge. After watching them for some time til the nanny moves off with her charge, I still can’t tell if the nanny, newspaper-reading-dad and the two fighting children are together.

What is with this place today? We’ve been here on occasion, never seen all the stuff happening now.

<thinking> I am so freaking not leaving Rockstar’s side in this psycho place full of rabid kids. If they bite us we might have to see the doc about shots.

Just in case it’s something else, I spritz Rockstar’s hands with Mucky Pups sanitizer foam yet again.

So when we finally approach PLD, sitting quietly on a bench with his son (who looks a lot less shaken than he does) I ask, in broken Cantonese, if he needs me to back up his story about the bullies.

Weakly, he waves a hand, “I’ve finished. I had to call that attendant. They threw a footstool at my son so I yelled at them real loud. So then they threw a footstool at me. The attendants got their mums who were sitting in the cafe.Uh, fortunately the mums believed you right? I mean, what if all the grownups didn’t believe you (I’m thinking especially the skinny little girl.)

“If they didn’t believe me they might even call the police. But it’s all recorded on the security cameras, I would have asked them to play back the tape. One of the mums dragged her children off and quickly left.”

Poor Lone Dad looked really frazzled. Shortly after the bullies left, he sank onto one of the benches for a bit, then I thought they’d left. Except his son appeared out of nowhere and happily invited himself to join Rockstar and me, so they played for a bit, the older boy shooting hoops, Rockstar scoring goals.

Guess that’s a reminder kids can be a lot hardier to bullying than we give them credit for, but well of course we don’t – we’re parents, after all… Worrying is like a standard job description. But now I know to seek out security cameras… Security’s a good word. And… is it possible these kids are meaner to dads? 😀

 

 

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How To Breed Hamsters (Part 2)

***Caution… Don’t read the italic bits if you are squeamish***

This looks like one of my litters

At one point I remember having 16 hamsters from my breeding projects, even after giving my friends a few (as in they got hamster cages ok, not cooking pots).

Sometimes, like Mary’s four-legged friend, our hamsters attended school. Because they’re nocturnal, you can get away with keeping one in your pocket during class – they usually just curl up and sleep against your body warmth. Once, our teacher confiscated one. When my friends and I went to get it back after school, we found her entertaining it in her open desk drawer in the staff room, as it scurried about and chewed on pencil erasers.

Every night when she got home from her day job, my mum would clean hamster cages. I helped, but not that much – she shooed me off to tend to my hamster project or study. Later, it made outstanding show n tell.

(But one of my friends discovered antlion larvae behind the school compound so everyone thought he was pretty cool too… He gave me some to keep for awhile, in tupperware, feeding them large ants and termites… They would eventually grow up and fly away, leaving behind the empty runs… I’m still in touch with the friend, now he’s a doctor in the UK who recently bought a black beemer with red leather seats… Dude, so happy for you – and what you do for guilt-free shopping everywhere 🙂

Antlion larvae – they’d grow up and fly away, leaving the empty tupperware behind
You feed them by dropping ants down their runs

My dad traveled frequently while we were stationed in Sandakan, I was an only child who didn’t get that many playdates around music, taekwondo and later on lotsa tuition, and my mum was extremely active at her own school, even after hours – she liked doing things like giving free tuition to any underprivileged kids who might want to attend. Especially in times of stress or unhappiness, she liked to throw herself into teaching and social work.

But early on my mum had decided I would grow up with as many animals as she could manage. It had something to do with the experience of learning the care of other living things, especially delicate ones (obviously Honey Bunny was a total FAIL – she was a pit bull in bunny ears), and though my mum never intended for me to have more than 2, I was allowed to keep the hamster colony. (In case you’re wondering why they didn’t just get me a goldfish, my dad did have a fishtank – and I had a catfish in it that nibbled on my fingers every time I put them in – I stopped when my fingers started to hurt.)

Hamsters can be quite fragile. They catch cold, they die. They fall off the furniture (which they do a lot, they have zero respect for heights) the wrong way, they die. For no apparent reason they die. Sometimes they got cancer. Once, one had maggots. That was gross. We watched the vet spray something on and then pluck the emerging grubs one by one. Apparently this is not that much of a biggie to the hamster unless there are too many of them. But apparently it will still hurt a bit to have grubs plucked out of you.

(The vet’s daughter btw, was the same age as me and sometimes assisted her mum – today she’s a surgeon-in-training at a hospital in the UK.)

Some hamsters went blind in a really gross way – their eyes popped and crusted over – one day they’d be fine, the next they’d come out of the nest with bugged-out eyes. No one knew why, not the local vet, not the pet shop, and the blind animals behaved perfectly normal after a few days.

All-in-all, if the hamsters looked like they were really suffering, we erm, “euthanized” them. The first time that happened I was 11, I think. My mum asked the science teacher for some kind of chloroform they used for dissections, and we’d put the hamsters down by placing them in a large bucket and putting lotsa drug-soaked cotton in it, then covering the top. Obviously for high school dissections, the animals are knocked out with uh, quite a bit less drug than we used, in a matter of minutes. But we were so paranoid about burying anyone alive we often left the bucket for hours or even overnight.

I read somewhere hamsters loved to get out of the cage for exercise, so we would stuff newspapers in the cracks under the door before letting them out at night to run all over our bedroom floor. They took turns, the females all at once in the communal cages, the males one at a time – and we’d have to pay closer attention because they’d climb up to where the other males’ cages were and pick a fight thru the bars. And most of them would dig at the newspaper under the door, somehow they knew there was more adventure to be had beyond, if they could just squeeze under there.

Commando Ham

We’d lose hamsters all over the house as well as in the mattress, the sewing machine, outside where the “bunny” was, and once down a toilet. Strangely, I don’t remember losing any permanently, though some went missing for days, and the one down the toilet (hamsters can swim quite well), eventually died of a cold.

My mum and I would sit on the floor and talk sometimes, and it wouldn’t be long before our hamsters scurried into our lap, up our t-shirts – little scrabbly claws grabbing the fabric – and onto the bed. We were convenient climbing frames.

We’d shampoo them about once a week and blowdry them with a hairdryer.

They smell like wet dog.

We’d feed them baby vitamin (in retrospect probably not a good idea).

When we moved from Sandakan to Penang, I brought one with me – on the plane in an ice cream tub. In case you’re wondering, a hamster comes up on the x-ray as a grey blob, not a tiny skeleton.

It was my mum’s way of erm, “building character”. She once told me it was to “teach (me) to love”, especially the little things… especially if I for eg saw examples of humans being mean to each other, I guess… She is very much not a Christian, but I was just thinking how Christians believe animals have no souls, only humans have souls. I take it as humans having the capacity for evil that an animal never will.

I can’t imagine what my childhood would be like without pets, I think all kids should get to keep some…

(Though maybe not 16.)

Rockstar got a Zhu Zhu Rockstar (it's a hamster on wheels that sings) last Christmas from one of my friends!

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How To Breed Hamsters (Part 1)

When my dad was stationed in Sandakan for some years, I got to mess with a lot more animals and even wanted to be a vet when I grew up. We’d pull up outside rural parks and there’d be a baby elephant loosely tethered with a dog chain. And the Orang Asli park warden would shrug, “We shot the mum, she was destroying our crops… then we found the baby and felt bad so here he is (casually eating the decorative plants outside the park office).” There were stray mutts everywhere, you often rolled over snakes, and once at a wedding they served stuffed anteater.

My first pet was Pinky. He was a huge (7-8 inches long, excluding the tail) albino rat my mum saved from a high school dissection class. Back then I was in lower primary school, and Pinky gave me a few seriously bad bites (well he was a rat, I don’t know how my mum’s students fed him with their fingers, I had to use a plastic teaspoon). I also learned to handle him wearing thick leather gloves when I let him out in the yard for exercise.

He did not like being bathed with dog shampoo. (But oh, he smelt so sweet after).

Then I had Honey Bunny, who was very much not. From a cute baby bunny, she grew into a huge… thing, that burrowed about the yard and brought down a large papaya tree.

What she looked like

She bit, she growled, she snapped at dogs that bothered her. (But she was very gentle with my hamsters.) I gave up trying to catch her with a large butterfly net to put her back in her hutch at the end of the day and just left her to hop about the yard permanently.

At which point it should no longer be a surprise when a month after I get Heidi and Kay I nearly step on a wriggling glob of bare pink flesh that has squeezed itself through the cage bars and onto the parquet floor – and realize Kenny is a better name for my satin-haired golden hamster.

Kenny lookalike

Pet shop assured my parents both hamsters were female. It would seem Kenny was a late developer. The litter didn’t last long, Heidi soon ate the lot. (No, most of the time you don’t actually see it, just one day they’re there, the next they’re not.)

I was maybe 9 or 10, and I vowed not to lose another litter. So my mum got me hamster books. I learned the gestation periods of Chinese Dwarf Hamsters, vs the larger Golden Hamsters. I learned words like gestation. And the following thru trial and error:

Hamster babies/pups

1) The hamster mum eats her young when threatened, as some natural defense mechanism kicks in. So never let the mum feel threatened – move the cage somewhere quiet around the time she’s due (see where knowing the gestation period comes in handy), away from household traffic for at least 7-10 days, after which she’s less likely to eat the babies.

2) Get the poor male outta there. I haven’t seen any males eat babies, but his crashing about the cage might earn him a few bites (hey this sounds familiar :D).

3) Never touch new babies with your fingers. You are giving them a death sentence.

4) Check where the litter is in the cage. Because the babies can squeeze thru the bars. We lost the largest in one litter because it crawled all the way out my room and fell down the stairs in the night. It was still alive but not for long when we returned it, it was fed to the others. (In fact, one hamster mum seemed to only keep the 4 strongest in her litter no matter what I did (I kept track of the number of babies born, sneaking up to the cage often – by the end of the week she always only had 4 left); other hamsters kept them all, usually 6 or 8 – and they invariably would turn out markedly smaller. Hmm. Apparently I felt you should know this. Hamsters can count.)

If you have to move stray babies, use chopsticks and do it when the mum is asleep. (See (3))

5) Cages and “hamster houses” with detachable lids make it easier to check on and tend to the nest, or simply keep the babies from crawling out too easily.

6) Try to give less wet food in the first week since you can’t touch the cage to clean it. And our hamsters had a thing for Maggie Mee noodle cake, or you could even give the calcium-enriched Japanese stuff 😀 Later on you can slip long beans through the bars or something without touching them too much.

The hamsters soon took up a whole wall in my room – you can house all the females together in large multiple-deck cages, but the males give each other really bad bites and then you have more work keeping the wounds clean.

And they were very, very noisy in the night…

 

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Who let the dogs out?

Guess what they are (besides being Chinese dogs/ lions) - Feng Shui statues? Pop art with Asian twist?

Hint!

Another hint... "Every good dog" at the bottom... And hey this terracotta warrior is giving the thumbs up?

And….The answer is….

<ddrrrrrum roll>

Doggie Chew Toy from Goods of Desire (G.O.D)!!!

It's dog eat dog...

Bark! Bark! Bark!

Ps: If you want the real pop art statues (and btw I’m displaying the dog chew toys at home – they are either very expensive dog toys or very cheap “Asian pop art” for your home), Indigo Living sells em…

 

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Putonghua Shmutonghua, There Was Another Lesson In There

So our Putonghua tutor dumped us. And I was furious. (She could’ve easily quit when Rockstar didn’t want her anymore! WHY did she have to bribe him with a little plastic Doraemon fan (only heard about it from Rockstar much later), send me a nice text claiming it was sorted, THEN quit on email not 12 hours later, leaving behind a much harder conversation with Rockstar?? Also a bunch of unsolicited, slightly theatrical “I’m so ashamed” texts and “please let me sort it out” (Yeah really – “Ashamed.” That should’ve raised warning bells because I said nothing to her that warranted it but at the time I thought it was something Beijing that was lost in translation <sheepish>) when I asked if she’d lost interest and should we call it off. Instead she came in one last time and then she called it off.) But when I cooled down, I realized it had to end.

Our now ex tutor was obviously “in-demand” and could pick and choose, she’d turned down referrals before. My point to this post is “in-demand” matters squat if you have a little kid the tutor isn’t making the effort to inspire enthusiasm in. The problem with Hong Kong is sometimes when you are good and in demand, you are so aggressively rewarded you can tell everyone else to go to hell. Fine if you work in banking. (Kind of.) Not so fine with little kids.

I can understand the “banking” argument – while some loyalty is valued, often people will not fault you for hopping about. I did it during mergers, guilty. (For the record I often still hold fierce loyalties to some of my ex-bosses, what I was doing was leaving quickly when bank mergers moved my reporting line away from them.)

Anyway it just occurred to me, super in-demand international schools in super-competitive-land are going to be hard-pressed to produce results like no other. It’s just what it’s like here, but to what extent is there a real incentive to work with a child who falls behind for whatever reason, before easily replacing the child with another out of the massively long waiting lists? At the end of the day top schools need the results to stay up there. I’ve met mums who tell me of kids who fell behind academically (not say, did drugs or filmed each other and posted it on Youtube tho yes, heard those too, there is even one international school reputed for taking these kids in haha), get 6 month warning, cannot improve enough, get kicked out.

Back to the Putonghua tutor for the moment and forgive my flaffing about, I’m on medication. It took some back-tracking to realize she had not been happy we spread out Rockstar’s lessons couple times a week after school instead of pulling him out of school a day a week for her (we were strongly advised not to do that anymore because Rockstar is one of the absolute youngest in his year and it will be primary school interview season shortly after he begins K2). Why didn’t she just come clean she was already considering quitting because her travel time (read: non-bill-able hours) significantly increased? How come I didn’t realize her cutting more and more classes was the new schedule and her preparing to quit? (Though we did half-heartedly consider getting a second tutor cos she skipped so much.)

“It wasn’t Rockstar,” she says, her “official” reason, sent on email, was “lack of parent trust.” This offends me royally. Just come clean about the scheduling la, don’t bullshit.

My one request was to manage Rockstar so he doesn’t fight using Putonghua. She was free to get him to enjoy Putonghua in any way because in the first place we weren’t looking for formal lessons – when she morphed Putonghua play sessions into formal lessons we just paid the bill. I said nothing when she repeatedly walked into our master bedroom to pull napping Rockstar out for class if he overslept, and I said nothing when I learned she gives him candy and chocolate without ever checking with us. (Rockstar doesn’t get hooked on sweets anyway and doesn’t eat more than 1 or 2, so I left it. Potato chips would be another story. But funny how I found out -one day Rockstar sarcastically said, “When’s she coming again, I need more candy,” when we asked how his Chinese was going.))

She had a lot of freedom because I thought she was doing a good job – when asked to pick a book for us to read together, Rockstar used to often pick one of her Putonghua books and proceed to “read” to me (I have no idea how much is reading and how much is memorizing because I’m completely Chinese-illiterate.) I consider this a good result for which I will pay not just money but “free-reign” for. She is the teacher, I thought to not question her authority over how she ran her class. But then Rockstar stopped doing that for awhile and I got so comfy I didn’t notice immediately.

It was another warning sign that came too late, when our new helper kept calling me because this tutor who has handled Rockstar for 2 years without incident even when she plucked him still sleeping from the master bedroom and he started crying (she easily distracted him with a storybook), would now go to a helper whom she knows has only been about 3 months with us, to sort out Rockstar. Because it implied she was now putting very little thought into what she was doing. Rockstar probably reacted to it way before we picked it up.

In the following days as I called girlfriends, I realized to what extent Putonghua tutors/ nannies were in great demand (Putonghua is pretty much acknowledged as one of the things kids have to learn nowadays – whether you’re on Upper East Side Manhattan (where an article in Harper’s Bazaar US famously commented about the bemoaning of Putonghua nanny shortage) especially 3 or 4pm onwards, our regular time slot. No wonder our last one dumped us. Still probably not as bad as living outside Northasia, I guess.

A girlfriend who’d been doing some ground work for a nanny pointed out you could actually hire teaching assistants from some of the local schools on the outskirts of Hong Kong for longer hours as a Putonghua nanny and they’d be happy to take it up because on an hourly basis they still made more as a nanny in Hong Kong (and lotsa people get worried about leaving their kids with helpers all day) so that’s what we’re trying.

Anyway Rockstar kept to his word. The tutor and nanny I sent home to him on two separate days registered virtually zero resistance.

I went with the Putonghua-speaking nanny. (Second lesson was a bit harder tho, she forgot something, but I really hope we can stick with a nanny now that he’ll get Putonghua twice a week in school for K2).

To be honest the tutor’s accent is exquisite, far better than the nanny’s. But we don’t know the tutor, the nanny was a referral from a girlfriend, she was actually a Chinese Kindy teaching assistant. Who is already fully-booked after the summer hols. Fortunately as a sluggard afternoon session parent I get to book her in the morning where she’s still wide open.

Everything’s a package isn’t it, just like the investment product termsheets I used to read for a living… Good nanny/ tutor = much higher probability of being all booked up for the popular time slots (ie after morning school lets out). Since I suck at being neurotically competitive at vying for the best time slot (ie have to scope out- book up super duper early) I’m going to have to give something up.

So which am I going to give up, quality of nanny/ tutor, or popular time slot? Hmm. This is hard.

I understand the concept well, from my old job – if you’re good, if you produce, you can go anywhere. I assume to some extent this is at least partly true of most industries and career paths, but when little kids are involved I find it disconcerting where meritocracy is sometimes too aggressively rewarded.

Aren't they supposed to work at it

To what extent does a too highly sought after tutor, or for that matter educator, still have an incentive to stick it out with a child and sort it out, before quickly giving up on them and moving on to the next “easier case”? There are so many lining up to take that child’s place.

What do little children learn about this? It’s life? All of it? If you’ve ever been dumped or rejected by a top school, I’m guessing “It’s life” wouldn’t be as easy to swallow. Especially if you are that ex-colleague of mine who got a rejection from a top school stating the reason as your child being “too stubborn” or “strong-willed.”


Little kids aren’t projects or investment products, they’re well, people, with growing pains and such. Maybe their parents are going thru a difficult time at work. Or a split. Or there’s a new baby. Or any other of a myriad number of stuff why a child might act up. Belatedly I realize Rockstar’s school actually asks discreetly in the standard “About Me” form we were supposed to fill asap re Rockstar when we started K1 there… Anything they should know, like new baby in family… The thing took me 2.5 hours to fill, but I start respecting it more and more.


Posted in Rockstar Thoughts, Rockstarisms, School For Rockstar | 2 Comments

Rockstarism #130

We recently changed Putonghua tutors (more later) and I was initially worried about Rockstar’s reaction, so I pussyfooted about for a few days, initially telling him she had gone back to Beijing etc.. Except he seemed nonplussed so then I just came clean:

Rockstar: <nodding> Ok… So I will meet a new one then.

Me: Uh, I thought you liked her again, the big fight was fixed (they’d been having probelms somewhere in the middle of this post) and you guys were doing your lessons alright now?

Rockstar: <gravely> I only liked her the other day (when I thought they’d repaired the relationship) because she gave me things. You can change her. She’s no good.

Me: (Guess he was referring to a lack of erm, “sincerity” or “dedication,” rather than results, what does he know right, he’s 3.5) So actually you’re fine with having to try out new tutors?

Rockstar: Yes. Ms W I just said ok because she gave me this (Doraemon) fan. <Rooting about in his desk> Where’s my fan… See?

So I gave him a choice between two (to be honest I am indifferent between personal tutor and nanny and then he liked the nanny) and told him if he wants the one of his choice he needs to support her by showing results, otherwise he’ll lose her. Because her job is to get him to use Putonghua.

Rockstar: <decisively> Ok, Mum – I’ll work with her. Don’t give me Ms C. She tangled my yo-yo string and didn’t say anything! (He expects a casual “Oh sorry” or “Excuse Me” before moving on, my thin-skinned Emily Post of a son sigh) Tsk!

I have a sneaking suspicion his next is to make the tutors/ nannies he likes look good… Fine by me if it gives him the motivation to do better so we’ll see… And how come he doesn’t make the mother he likes look good humph…

Posted in Rockstarisms | 2 Comments