Macao: Entry DENIED (old news)

I haven't gone running in nearly a week, but I have been literally running several times a day to keep up with Hong Kong--to catch the buses and ferries, to get to dinner dates on time, and to maximize math problem-solving time. Together, all of that has left me with little time to fill you in on the daily adventures. One that I had been particularly looking forward to was Macao, a Chinese territory outside of Hong Kong. Macao was once administered by the Portuguese, so to this day everything, including immigration forms are in three languages: Mandarin, English, and Portuguese.

Macao is mostly known for its casinos, some of which are the largest in the world. But I was excited about getting to visit the mosque, which my online sources reported sits right across from the main pier. However, after arriving in this special territory, the immigration people refused to grant me a Macao visa, even for one day because my passport is set to expire in one month. After attempted negotiations in Canto-English with bits of Spanish (I thought they might understand Portuguese's close relative), all efforts failed, primarily due to language barriers. So I was sent right back on a ferry to Hong Kong. After clear instructions involving "sit," "stay," "passport I keep," and a few other short phrases, I was placed in a front row seat under close surveillance for the one hour ride. When it was time to go, I followed my designated guard without saying a word.

He didn't seem very friendly, but I knew that he was just doing his job; and at the moment, that meant simply transporting me to the interrogation room, while acting like a tough guy. Eventually, we stood for a few awkward moments to wait for another immigration official. Unable to communicate properly in Cantonese, but wishing to improve the atmosphere, I pulled out the only thing I had in Chinese characters--a scrap of paper that transliterates to "lau lin." This is the name of the king of the king of fruit--that is, the best type of durian in the world; which I am disparately searching for to fulfill my final Hong Kong dream. The guard responded with "The best! The best! From Malaysia!" Although he couldn't explain where I could find lau lin, I instantly, gained his respect, and was transfered to the next guard with a smile.

After a few more transfers, some 'interrogations,' (that quickly became cheerful), and lots of paperwork, I was warned not to veer out of HK, re-granted my stay in Hong Kong, and set free to run to the MTR!

I was really sad to miss the Macao trip, but my experience with the immigration officials was interesting (an amalgamation of consternation and humor), and the rest of my day was relaxing--I spent it on the beach at Lamma Island. ...more to come on that later, but first I'd love to hear about Macao!