Hong Kong 7’s: Lovely mayhem

As soon as you think you have Asia figured out - she comes out of nowhere with a flurry of quick right jabs and a knock-out left that would make even the Champ envious,  "I said Pardon? I snap, I lose it,  I take this guy Martin's copyright infringements and stamp them to bits with my big right foot of Litigation, followed by a flurry of out of court settlement left hooks and wipe my hands clean of the pencil necked plagiarist.  Is that using the Champs name without proper written permission enough for you?!” Noted Champ. Well the new chapter of this dynamic Asian Mini-series is "The mayhem and debauchery of the Hong Kong 7's Rugby tournament, or Hong Kong is it really Asia?” 

I flew into Hong Kong at about 4:00 pm on Thursday, and knew right away it wasn't like any other big Asian City I had been to up until this date.  I was awestruck not by what I saw but what I didn't:  No swarm of scooters buzzing endlessly like little annoying bees with their incessant beep beeps, no dogs acting like they own the place, no cows meandering across the main thoroughfares and nary a napping Thai 'worker' to be found.  Welcome to Hong Kong a depot of Western influence amidst the unique culture of the Asian landscape.  I stepped out of the Airport and two, 2!! Taxi drivers politely inquired if I needed it help. Huh?  In Bangkok I would've just waded through my first gaggle of Tuk-tuk drivers and would've been armpit deep (I love being tall here) in a pod of Cyclo-drivers (purposefully close to psycho-drivers I might add).  The next wonderment was auditory; no honking! No motos beep beeping like Chihuahua's, no blaring air horns of buses (hello shattered ear drums) And make no mistake this was a major arterial route in Hong Kong - sigh, it was like heaven, blissfully quiet heaven. 

Well heaven has to wait because when I finished grabbing a water and sandwich, shelled out $50 Hong Kong dollars for it (about $9 cdn), one thought crossed my mind, I miss those tuk-tuk drivers because usually right behind them is a restaurant that will give you a 3 course meal for $3 cdn! I suddenly ached for the cacophony of scooter beeps.  Yes Hong Kong is expensive; Jeff and I stayed in a mediocre hotel for $150 cdn and we drank $9 beers and choked down $15 burgers.  The kicker was at the Hong Kong 7's tournament itself where a picture of Heineken will run you $160 HK dollars or about $30 cdn!  Unfortunately pitchers are mandatory if you choose to reside in the south stands of the stadium with the other primates, we fit right in.  

If you don't consume, you are a freak, and essentially you have to lower your state of consciousness enough so you can understand the humor of the big fat Scottish bloke who smells like Haggis and sprays saliva flavored Heineken every time he melodically (using that gingerly) spews out to an unsuspecting female, "show the lads your tiiiiiittts then".  Apparently that line never gets old, no matter how little success one has with it.  Ha.. don't read any cynicism here as a lack of merriment on Jeff and my parts, we consumed enough ale to giggle every time that line was used.  Jeff used it himself, I didn't, of course.  It was an incredible weekend of lovely, titillating, chaos that quaked my entire being.  It was too fun. 

Imagine: 50,000 rowdy mixed nation fans combining in delirious, joyous mayhem for three days.  A carnival like atmosphere makes even lining up for the 'loo' (toilet) a belly laughing experience.  So many hilarious eccentric beings whose soul purpose of the moment is to laugh until they pee.  As an indication of the brilliant depth of intellectual conversation that is stimulated as you stand over the urine trough; one sharp looking hobbit of a man informed me that to his best estimate, 3 million liters of urine will pass through this stadium this week-end.  Mind you, the statistician whom filled me with this trivia was dressed like Daffy Duck at the time.  Those web feet came in handy in when he had to paddle out of that bathroom, "boys boys let's be more specific about where we aim in here, ****ing hell". Costumes rule the 7's:  It's Mardi Gras meets Halloween meets strip club.  From Horny Priests, to slutty hula-dancers, to over-endowed Scooby doo's, they were all there.   Brilliant wigs of neon pinks, yellows and greens dotted the entire stadium.  Blow up dolls, blow up dogs, blow up kangaroos and balls are battered around the crowd until an over zealous security guard grabs an ill placed volley.  Thunderous boos do not shake his rock solid disposition and even pleas of, "Dr. Evil let us play" elicit only a smile as he punctures the pneumatic toy.  (You Saskatchewan Boys will be happy to note, no blow up sheep were punctured during the weekend).

Occasionally a too drunk wild girl (god bless 'em) would incite a near riot when she accepts a proposition from a drunk boy to exchange tops. I'm not sure what is more riveting; the loveliness of the staggering topless girl as she dons her new jersey or the ludicrousness of the chubby, hairy-backed prop now sexily attired in a pink halter top.  Poor guy looks cold.  And If I'm not mistaken I think there was rugby too, yes, yes there was.  Incredibly skilled handsome men tear up the pitch in an unreal demonstration of athleticism.  Speed that mystifies, agility that dismays is commonplace.  Thunderous cheers erupt when little Thailand scores on anyone! And the inevitable bone jarring boos whenever France takes the pitch. As the entire crowd chants, "if you hate the French stannnnnnd up. stannnnd up."  No one is left sitting.  (*sorry Mirka) Emotions went high for Jeff and I when we witnessed Canada, for the first time ever, defeat powerhouse Fiji, capping their undefeated day and securing entry into the top 8!  Unfortunately they would lose a heartbreaker to number three-ranked Argentina, but held the esteem of being the story of the tournament.  Moments not forgotten.  I am in Xiamen China now, at Jeff's residence where he teaches at an international school. I am quite content to recover quietly here. Take care all.