I met someone important while I was in Hong Kong.
The one and only Minister Mentor of Singapore Lee Kuan Yew was having dim sum lunch with his entourage at a restaurant near Central.
He spotted me just as I was walking in, hollered me over and much to my surprise, told me that he’s a big fan of kennysia.com. He also said to me he liked reading Dawn Yang and hoped Paul Twohill would win Singapore Idol.
Fine, I lied. It wasn’t actually Lee Kuan Yew. Just a wax figure of him.
But still! I was having a stimulating monologue with an inanimated object that looked vaguely like the Minister Mentor. That’s something ok. That means I’m like, cooler than the rest of you plebians.
So who wanna touch me?
I was at the Madame Tussauds Wax Museum at Victoria Peak, Hong Kong.
Madame Tussauds of course is well known for their realistic wax models of famous personalities. Their branch in Hong Kong is the first in Asia and features wax sculptures of celebrities that we’re more familiar with in this part of the world.
Entrance tickets to the wax museum are HKD110/RM55 a pop, which is actually quite expensive, but it’s fun to see how detailed the wax works are.
You can try fooling your friends into believing that you met so-and-so celebrity in Hong Kong. I attempted to do the same, but all they said was “Eh, this one quite realistic hor!”
Dammit, am I that predictable? 🙁
At least I had fun kicking David Beckham’s balls.
Getting poked by Madonna’s breasts.
And delivering a speech at the White House with Dubya by my side.
Personally, I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a wax figure of yourself on display for everyone to touch and see.
I mean, you could be the world’s most successful golf player and people could still make fun of you.
I guess it’s alright if you’re like Gandhi and everyone loves you.
But what if you’re “Aunty Killer” Bae Yong-Jun and half the male population hates you to death?
I hate Bae Yong-Jun.
I still hold him personally responsible for that bloody annoying Winter Sonata theme song that’s playing repetitively in my head. That stupid Korean baby face.
The worst thing is, I spotted a couple of these posers taking photos with Andy Lau like this.
How horrible right. What would Andy Lau think if he saw people taking photo with his wax figure like that! Like getting molested liddat.
Then suddenly, I saw Ayumi Hamasaki.
And then I did this.
Hehe.
Sorry. Couldn’t resist.
Hong Kong – Kowloon
I had fun in Hong Kong.
Part of me wished I didn’t have to go alone, but hey, I know I wouldn’t be able to pack everything in a tight 4D3N schedule if it’s otherwise.
There’s too much to see and do. I left Hong Kong knowing that there’s always going to be something new to experience when (not if) I do return one day.
As a tourist destination, Hong Kong can be roughly divided into 3 parts – middle-class Kowloon to the north, cosmopolitan Hong Kong Island to the south-east, and idylic Lantau Island to the south-west. That’s good for me because I can pretty much plan my time evenly among the three.
My journey began at Kowloon. I stayed at a hostel in Mongkok, Kowloon, which is not so bad a place if it weren’t for the cesspool of hourly-rate hotels and prostitution dens littered across every nook and corner of the streets.
Kowloon is a very tightly-packed area. At one point in time, it was named the most densely populated place on the planet, and I believe them.
You get shops located on the 9th floor, storerooms behind restaurant tables, and coffee houses with bars – not because it’s chic and stylish, but because there’s simply not enough space to go around for everyone.
Where the heck do all these people come from?!
My first day in Hong Kong, I had to share a table in a Wanton Mee restaurant with two other strangers. It was strange to me, but for them it seems pretty normal. Looking at how people living here squeeze through one another all the time with difficulty, it’s hard not to feel lucky living in a landed house.
Chungking Express, famous for that Wong Kar Wai movie of the same name, has a VERY liberal definition of the term “deluxe hotel” and “mansion”
Kowloon is the Petaling Street and Geylang of Hong Kong.
What Kowloon lacks in the glitz and glamour typical of central Hong Kong, it more than makes up for it with its distinct Asian flavour.
The rows and rows of run-down tenement buildings, bright protuding signs and streetside vendors while an eyesore to some, certainly lends a lot of character to the middle-class Chinese ground.
Btw, there’s one interesting thing I noticed about kids here. The kids here, when you take photos of them, THEY POSE.
We’re not talking just any boring “Si Qian Jin” pose kids here do.
“Oi! Quick quick take photo lah. Damn sien pose liddat.”
THEY DO THE ACT CUTE POSE! Just like FireAngel, but so much more damn cuter lah.
One touristy place I did visit was the Avenue of Stars on the Tsim Tsa Shui waterfront, otherwise known as Hong Kong’s answer to Hollywood’s Walk of Fame.
The Avenue of Stars is definitely a must-go place for all tourists, not just because it features the commemoration Hong Kong’s most celebrated actors and actresses, but because you get the best view of Hong Kong Island’s spectacular skyline. I must say it is among the best in the world.
I stayed at the Avenue of Stars for The Symphony of Lights show heavily hyped by the tourism board. It is basically a choreographed spotlight-fest atop skyscrapers. Though beautiful, it was nothing to shout about.
Before the end of the first night, I went to this bar called Felix, a swanky little place on the top floor of the Peninsula Hotel.
Judging by the number of wealthy-looking businessmen and bevy of supermodel beauties chilling out in this Phillipe Starke-designed bar, I’m guessing this must be one of those “hi-so” place to hang out at in Hong Kong.
I made it my point to sample a city’s signature drink at its top bar whenever I travel.
Rumour has it that the world’s first Screwdriver was mixed here at Felix. For non-alcoholics, a screwdriver is basically vodka orange.
Over here, this simple mix of drink set me back HKD$99/RM50 a pop.
The view was worth it though.
I tried getting Bruce Lee’s physique, but failed miserably.
Coincidentally, the week I was there was Bruce Lee’s 33rd Anniversary. The Hong Kong Bruce Lee Association (wtf? Where’s the Kuching Kenny Sia Association?) set up a series of life-sized posters on the harbour to pay tribute to their nation’s most iconic character.
The legendary founder of Jeet Kun Do who achieved cult status internationally would’ve been 66 years old if he were still alive today.
Dammit Bruce! Can’t a guy take a photo without you sabotaging it with bunny ears?
[a lot more to come…]
Dragon Tiger
This is the poster for Dragon Tiger Gate, arguably the most hotly anticipated martial arts movie to come out from Hong Kong this season.
Ads for this movie are everywhere in Hong Kong.
I don’t know about you, but everytime I see this,
I can’t help but to imagine this instead.
What kinda kung fu fighters have such perfect hair!
Bluff people one.
Best Pudding Ever
If you’re ever in Hong Kong for any reason at all, there is one place that you absolutely must go.
Don’t be fooled by its appearance.
On the outside, this shop looks like some place you your grandmother buy Chinese medicine from. But I’m telling ya, I had better time in the shop than in Disneyland.
The name of the place is called Chu Xu Liu Shan, probably named after a famous maiden from ancient China.
They serve mango puddings. Nothing else but mango puddings.
They’ve got mango puddings by itself, mango puddings with sago balls, mango puddings with fruits, mango puddings with ice cream, … anything and every possible combination you could think of. And they are absolutely sensational.
I discovered it when I was at Causeway Bay (Hong Kong’s main shopping area) and saw a sizable crowd forming by the shopfront. My instinct immediately tells me that one of the following must be true:
a) Some celebrity sighting
b) Someone fighting
c) Someone giving out something for free
Turns out none of the above was happening at all. The Chu Liu Shan outlet was just having one of their normal days.
Out of curiousity, I hopped into their almost-full shop and ordered their basic mango pudding. And I got THIS.
This is not an ordinary dessert dish at all. Their mango puddings are absolutely out of this world.
And It’s not exactly cheap either you know. A bowl of mango pudding like that costs HK$26/RM13. That’s the price of Starbucks! Yet business is still doing so well. That’s how good they are.
It’s not difficult to see why. One spoonful of their mango pudding and I’m already in seventh heaven. Their pudding is smooth and silky, their mango fresh and aromatic. I can’t remember the last time I tasted something so… orgasmic before.
It’s so good I came back the second day and ordered another dish. This time, mango pudding with glutinous rice balls and fruits. This one’s even better than the basic variation.
It’s so yummmy I’m gonna go for it again tomorrow before I leave for the airport. No doubt when I leave Hong Kong, this will be one of the things I miss most.
Want some?
Dammit, someone quick go start a franchise in Malaysia already!
Honging The Kong
8 hours, 4 cities, 2 flights and 1 ferry ride later, I’ve escaped from sleepy Kuching and injected myself right into the thick of action at the cosmopolitan city of Hong Kong.
`
The journey was a hellish 4-hour plane ride from KL to Macau in one of those planes with seats that could not recline. I had intended to recharge myself on the plane so that I could be ready for a full day of sightseeing and shopping today, but I had as much sleep as a $2 prostitute I can tell you that.
Lucky I did not bring my mom along with me. This was supposed to be a mother-son trip. I even booked the tix for her already. But alas, things cropped up, mom had to forfeit her ticket and this turned into a solo backpacking holiday instead.
At least without mom along, I can be naughty and try my luck (or lack thereof) at the famous casinos of Macau.
Even Bruce Lee endorses the casinos of Macau
Bad move. 2 hours in East Asia’s sin city and I’ve ended up RM150 poorer playing Baccarat. And I don’t even know how to play Baccarat.
Macau is an interesting little city that’s part Las Vegas, part China, part Portugal. Away from the glitzy casinos, the former Portugese colony exudes a unique European charm with it’s quaint churches and Mediterranean architecture.
Malaca? That sounds familiar
In fact, if it weren’t for the Asian people around, it’s difficult to believe I’m not actually in Europe. Most signages here are written in Portugese in addition to Chinese and maybe English. Strange really, considering most local Macanese can’t even speak or read Portugese.
Perils of falling asleep next to a blogger: photos of you setting up a trousers tent might get uploaded onto the Internet
Weather here is hot and humid, just like in Malaysia. It’s in the middle of summer after all.
The journey from Macau to Hong Kong is a much pleasant 1-hour TurboJet ferry ride (HK$154/RM75), but still with seats that cannot recline. 🙁 By this time I was already very exhausted as I hadn’t had a proper sleep for 36 hours.
I hadn’t really had time to walk around Hong Kong yet. First impression of it is that it reminded me a lot of Melbourne – big, noisy and messy.
This is the big city after all. Surprisingly, the people here are very friendly. I have some trouble understanding the locals here because my Cantonese totally cannot make it and their Mandarin is half bucket full.
Girls here in general are prettier too. Sure, it’s good eye candy for us, but the sad bit in that fact is that Hong Kong girls are under a lot of pressure to look good. If you think weight loss ads back home are ridiculous enough, it’s nothing compared to over here. The number of weight loss ads and beauty services targetted towards female are so aggressive it’s obscene.
Well, I’m finally in the room of my hostel now as I’m typing this. Hotels in Hong Kong are very expensive – a basic 3-star hotel will set me back around RM400 a night.
Since I’m travelling alone I find no need to indulge in unnecessary luxuries. The name of my accomodation is Dragon Hostel, and it’s on the 7th floor of a typical residential flat right in the middle of Mongkok. It costs me on average HK$220/RM110 a night. Can’t complain for the price I pay.
Here is a picture of my room.
Here is a picture of my toilet cum bathroom.
I wish I could show you more pictures of my room, but sorry, that’s all. It’s so small in here it’s not funny.
Anyway I’m going to log off now and do some shopping now.
See that bag? That’s my luggage before I left Malaysia.
When I come back it’s gonna be full. And then some. 😉
The Bhangra Dance
Went to have my blood test done last week.
I was sick and a couple of people had commented that I was displaying symptoms of dengue fever. It’s a possibility since the Aedes Death Squad has been spotted spraying fumes around my work area. To be safe than sorry, I went to the lab to find out what’s wrong with me.
Settled for the RM270 option for a full blood test with all the bells and whistles. Like most men, I’m scared shitless when it comes to having foreign objects poked into me, needles or otherwise. Hey, if they’re gonna poke a needle in me, might as well make it worth my while right?
Anyway, I got my report back yesterday in a spiffy gloss little folder. Yea, that’s what you get for RM270. A glossy folder.
I’m an AB positive. According to some dodgy Japanese blood-type personality test, that makes me cool, controlled, sociable and popular. Yeah, right.
Good news is that I’m pretty healthy overall. Red and white blood counts are normal – no dengue. In fact, no signs of any forms of diseases. Blood glucose is low. Good cholestrol is high, bad cholestrol low.
The bad news is that I got an overdose of protein in my liver. Attribute that to my meat-arian lifestyle. Should I do something about it or should I not? I lift weights so I need all the protein I could get.
I’m impressed by how comprehensive the report is. They’ve even tested my urine and tell me stuff like what colour it is.
Yeah, always wondered what the colour of my pee was.
I love it how they described it so elegantly, as if it was wine.
“2006 Chardonnay, light with earthy undertones.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
While at the Rainforest World Music Festival, I attended this workshop by the Malaysian Dhol Federation on this energetic punjabi dance called bhangra.
It was damn difficult ok! Who said Indian dance is all about screwing the light bulb on one hand and patting the dog on the other hand?
It’s more like screwing the light bulb on one hand, patting the dog on the other, making a turn, doing Bruce Lee and having an epileptic fit all at the same time. It’s ridiculously difficult. But everyone was there dancing like they were on a Bollywood movie set and there I was too stunned to do anything.
Sabrina, the girl who interviewed me on Channel [V], was keen to see me shaking it. She said “come on Kenny, just imagine two big buttons over your head, and you’re pushing it.”
Alright then Sabrina, this is for you. Kenny Sia doing the bhangra.
Somehow I still don’t think I look very natural.
I Am Hairy
My last entry, I posted this very normal-looking picture up.
And look at the comments flowing in.
“who’s hand is that..the hairy one with the tag? *hair phobia*” — Bean
“Kenny, u got hairy hand ya?!?!?!” — Natasha
“kenny… u r so hairy… eee…” — KeL
“Wah Lao, your hand sibeh hairy lah. Wanna try waxing? Makes me wonder if other parts of your body is as hairy as that~ Hahaha” — Nonnie
Hello? It was just a photo of a WRISTBAND. How come all these people talking about my bodily hair.
Yalah I know I have a lot of body hair. Maybe a little bit more so than the average Chinese guy, but hey that’s just the way I am.
I’ve got hair on my legs. I’ve got hair on my chest. I’ve got hair on my stomach leading down to my *ahem*.
I’ve got leg hair so thick and curly, it looks like it’s got the whole eco-system going on down there.
Back when I was doing Form 3, my school uniform was still the kind with white shirt and tight short pants. I have started growing hair on my legs already. By the end of the first semester my leg hair has become so thick and black and curly, it made me look really bad in schoolboy shorts. No other boys in my class have the same problems. Just me.
I carried the nickname ë¸ç (hairy bro).
It is said if you don’t know who Kenny Sia is back then, all you gotta do is go to the Form 3 classes and look for the guy with the longest leg hair. That would be me.
It’s not easy having a pair of hairy legs.
I can’t shorts when I go out. On occassions that I have to wear shorts (like during an extremely hot afternoon), I risk having my leg hair yanked out by people. Especially girls.
I don’t understand the fascination girls have with my leg hair. Why do they have to yank my leg hair out as hard as they can, at every opportunity they could get?
It’s like, when I joke with them.
“Hahahahaha” *YANK*
When I help them out.
“Eh, thanks ah!” *YANK*
When I ignore them.
“Oi…OIIII!” *YANK*
Please. Hairy men have feelings too.
I got hair growing at weird places. This one’s on my big toe.
If you put an ant on my leg, he’s gonna have trouble finding his way out of the maze of hair.
One time, I swear I saw a poor tiny little ant crawling around my leg frantically with his miniature-sized torch light and miniature-sized film camera.
When I found that fella stopped moving 3 days later, I took his miniature-sized tape out of his miniature-sized film camera and put it inside my miniature-sized VCR. And it showed this.
It’s true.
Trust me, I tried waxing it off before. Paid a lot of money, hurts like hell and it grew back in like a month. I wonder why I did it in the first place.
Yeah, I am hairy. But my body hair has never been a problem for me. No one ever complains about it.
The reason why hair grow on my body in the first place is because of testosterones. I have lots of ’em. Testosterones come from the testicles. And I have two. HUGE ones. That’s why I’ve got so much hair.
Why would I wanna wax my hair off? It’s a symbol of my manhood manliness. Testosterones are what make men men.
Personally, I would be damn worried if I haven’t got hair on my body, because that would mean I’m still a boy and not a man.
If you’re one of those pansy skinny little boys with not a single strand of hair on your chest, maybe you should be worried instead. Please check if your testicles are still working, thank you.
Rainforest World Music Festival 2006
The RWMF came and went one week ago, but obviously I was too knackered to write anything. Even until now. So this’ll be one hastily put together entry.
It doesn’t take a lot to make me happy on a Saturday night. I need any combination of good food, good music and good company.
With the exception of good food, I found the latter two aplenty at the music fest. Lots of people from the West and other parts of Sarawak came and flooded our humble little town over that weekend. For three days, music was shared, new friends were made, and Kuching became a real party town.
Joyce’s Monalisa Smile
JoycetheFairy, KinkyPugKevin and YC the Drama Queen flew in from KL to join in on the festivities.
My adventures began just when I was picking them up from Kuching International Airport. Knowing them, I was expecting three excited people madly jumping up and down passing through the arrival gates. But they hadn’t slept the night before so I ended up picking up 3 ZOMBIES wanting terrorise Kuching town.
Kevin’s flight to Kuching broke his aviation virginity
It was quite a scary sight.
Joyce “My blog is not famous because of Adam C” Wong and Kevin work for magazines and were here to cover the event. YC’s tagging along ‘cos she needed a break.
This year’s Rainforest World Music Festival followed pretty much the same formula as previous years’ – music from around the world by bands no one’s heard of, workshops in the afternoon and a huge concert at night, right in the middle of Sarawak’s lush rainforest.
Police sniffer dogs to detect if you have any illicit “green substances” on you. Hey, there are kids at the event ya know?
Having been to last year’s show, I thought this year’s event was much better organised with tougher crowd security and a more entertaining band lineup.
The concerts at night are the highlight of the event. That’s when they set up a huge stage in front of the grass lawn, and the audience dance and mosh to folk songs and world music as if it’s a trance rave. Quite a fascinating sight, because I’d have never expected much people to enjoy this genre of music.
There were a lot of good bands to like: the Mongolians with their throat-singing, the Madagascarians with their African beats, the Scottish with their bagpipe and rock music fusion. I particularly love it when bands from two different countries collaborate, and create a totally unique blend of music on the spot.
At the end of the the night, it’s become tough to choose which band is the most popular, but my guess is those Latin Americans should be somewhere near the top.
The Latin Americans perhaps played the hit song out of the entire music festival with a Spanish number called “Guantanamela” (whatever that means). It’s a catchy tune that made me feel like doing the salsa right then and there with a random stranger. 😛
But I shouldn’t scare people like that.
There were a couple of annoyances for me during the show. In conjunction with the Rainforest World Music Festival (RWMF), was another festival going on.
The Rainforest Shirtless Men Festival (RSMF) were running in full glory. Featuring an army of sweaty grown adult men with no shirt on mindlessly screaming and bumping into other people .
I don’t mind hogsweat rowdy shirtless guys at all. I just don’t like it when kept bumping into me EVERY 5 SECONDS trying to swap sweat droplets with me. It’s disgusting. Seriously, those people should either put a shirt on or eff off.
Drums sound better when you’re higher.
With the amount of alcohol and drunken people going on, sometimes I wonder if kids should even be allowed to be there.
Still, best part of the whole festival was the company I was with.
This is Irene and YC. The two of them have so much in common it’s kinda spooky.
Best. Ten seconds. Of my life.
I thought I was in heaven.Trying very hard not to smile too wide.
IngHui, all the way from Miri, taking a photo of me taking a photo of her.
Arthur, who drove 13 hours along with IngHui from Miri to attend the event.
This guy is at it again. We were together throughout most parts of the concert, and he could just be standing there doing nothing saying nothing , QUIET AS A ROCK, and have women – HOT BEAUTIFUL WOMEN – making the first move chatting up to him. It’s insane.
Fairy Angel
The girls said it’s the aura he exudes and his mean tattoo.
Maybe I should get a full arm tatt as well. That’ll pick up chicks.
To end this lousily put together entry, here’s a video of the highlights of the Rainforest World Music Fest for those who can’t make it.
What a fun, hectic, music-filled weekend totally worth the RM60 entrance and overpriced cans of beer.
Sick
Headache. Nausea. Dry cough. Flu. Weakness. Vomitting. Cold sweat. Rapidly changing body temperature. Loss of appetite.
I think I’m getting pregnant.
Signs You’re Suffering From World Cup Withdrawal Symptoms
The World Cup’s over but are you still feeling the football fever? Here are top 9 signs you might be suffering from World Cup Withdrawal Symptoms.
9. You wake up for no reason at all at 3am, feeling as if you should be doing something instead of sleeping.
8. You log on to “sport bookie online” to check out today’s odds, but got annoyed when the matches shown are all by teams no one has ever heard of like “Dynamo Moscow” or “Ajax Amsterdam”. What is this… some kinda detergent joke?
7. When your boss or lecturer explained something to you that you don’t understand, you said to him “Sir! You keep on talking but I’m like that French goalkeeper. Catch no ball!”
6. You order Swedish Meatballs from IKEA, and you said to the waiter “I take Sweden, you give me half ball.”
5. You go for Thai massage, and you told the masseuse “I take Thailand, I give you two balls.”
4. When you’re faced with a great difficulty in life, you find yourself deeply pondering“Hmmm… what would Shebby do in this situation?”
3. If something’s blocking your way, you don’t walk over it like you should.
You DIVE over it like Superman.
2. When your friend gives you a friendly pat on the back, you don’t just look and smile at him.
You fall down dramatically, clutch your knee and cry like a bitch.
“Owww…. Pain! Pain!”
1. When someone said something mean against you, you don’t just walk away.
You headbutt him right in the chest.
Now that Zidane’s retired, at least he can find comfort knowing that he could always work as a Shaolin Monk, headbutting every single friggin thing out of his way.