Portugueast

Macao is nuts! I love it... yet equally feel a little awkward there. I arrived at the port and after a little while getting through immigration, with bizarre looks from the guy behind the counter after he sees my passport photo (with glasses and dark hair) and then looks up suspiciously, without moving his head to see a bleach blonde glasses-less guy with a brimming smile. Once through, I tried to call Ze Chan again but couldn't get him on his mobile, so I ventured off out the port and immediately got propositioned by a prostitute, laying half passed out on a bench, smoking a cigarette. As she kinda whispered sweet nothings under her breath, I returned the whisper with one of my own but disguised it under a 'helloing' smile, "At least make an effort!" I marched on, avoiding public transport through fear of going in the wrong direction and decided to head for the lights in search of some food. I love it when my stomach dictates my actions in life. Nothing, and I mean nothing gets in my way then! Walking into the brightness that shone from Macao was quite an experience. I was shocked to see thousands of cars, all with the old Portuguese number plates, classic Lisbon black & green taxi's, streets named after weird Portuguese places like Rua da Praia Grande, which is kind of like going to Beijing and seeing a place called Bournemouth Beach Road! There was also Rua de Lisboa, Rua de Sintra and numerous other Portuguese street names. Even the people looked and acted slightly Portuguese, shouting out in the middle of the streets, spitting everywhere and smoking like chimneys! I felt like I was at home but in a paradoxical "Back to the Future" style universe where Biff pinched the almanac and created Casinos everywhere! In fact... I couldn't be closer to a better description of the place. Casinos are everywhere you turn. I went into one such place and it's mad. Filled with young Chinese drunk kids throwing chips about all over the place. No beans or ketchup were involved thank goodness. I did manage to grab a bite to eat, right in the centre of the place. A lovely big dish of chicken noodles and green tea. And then came the slight change in feeling. The waitress had been very smiley and lovely as I ordered and thanked her for the food (in English mind you...), but at the end of the meal, I decided to thank her in Portuguese. "Obrigado", I said... and she froze on the spot, furrowing her brows and looking rather pissed off with me all of a sudden. "You are Portuguese?", "Yes, well, half English, half Portuguese..." "Oh, we don't speak Portuguese here any more, but I know the answer... De nada, right?", and she walked off. "Right", I mumbled to myself. I suddenly felt very strange. In a place filled with Portuguese memories, why was there an apparent hatred for it? Why didn't they change all the signs when the Portuguese moved out? I can understand the colonialist problems that might have ensued but, get rid of it all if you have a chip on your shoulder, don't just wallow in a depressive cloud of laziness and leave it there. Anyway. Strange stuff. I finally met up with Ze Chan, who broke up a conversation I was having with another "lady of the night" trying to chat me up outside Wynn Casino. It's all very flattering but I was actually starting to feel a little uncomfortable as the hours ticked on by. Talking to me about my marital status wasn't really something I wanted to get into with her and Ze's intervention was perfect! "Jason?"..."sorry, but there's only enough room for you in the car!" and he grabbed me by the arm and whisked me away. Ze is Great. He works as an editor for Radio Macao and plays in a Jazz band with a lovely 5 string bass guitar. Him, Lina and her husband (a chap who also played in the band with Ze) took me round the sites and showed me the wonders of Macao at night. We went to it's highest point to have a good overall look at the city and then to some of the more defining parts of it all. Squares that still look very much like down town Lisbon with classic Portuguese-style buildings. It's a magical place, no doubt. By 5 in the morning, after lots of cigarettes and chats about Portugal, Macao, colonialization, ill feeling, food, smoking, spitting, friendships and many more late-night subjects, I hit the hay and readied myself for my trip to Bangkok.