Just when I thought that relocating would be a piece of cake with summery days and delicious gourmet discoveries, I was plunged headlong into my first relocation nightmare.
Typhoons.
Well, to explain myself, typhoons(hurricanes) are as common in summers as dim sum are to teahouses in Hong Kong. We definitely don't have these in Singapore - The closest light and water display we get over here is the musical fountain show in Sentosa. Anyway, since I've married to an over-protective chap, I've been drilled on the common hk typhoon vernacular:
Typhoon signal 1 means I can continue drinking my tea.
Typhoon 3 means that I can carry on shopping.
Typhoon signal 8 means that HK IS in the path of a typhoon with unimaginable windspeeds. Should I see this signal, I should return home even if I am in the midst of a facial, looking like the living dead.
Since I have never encountered any natural disasters in ooh-so-safe Singapore, I poohed poohed the dangers. I barely registered the tawdry typhoon details that till last Friday. And I learnt it the hard way...
On the 10Aug, I ventured out to the city despite an annoying drizzle that registered at signal 3. The reason? I was bloody adamant to collect a pair of coveted shoes ordered from France and a pair of wedding slippers for my friend. Trust me, I'm no shoeholic but when I have to wait 3 months for a pair of ballet pumps, it drives me nuts. Instant gratification is way cooler.
But hunger struck before I could gratify myself. I stopped at IFC Mall to fortify myself for even more buys and was reading Ellen Mcnally feverishly when I noticed something really strange.... There was a definite buzz in the air and the mall was emptying out. All the retail shops pulling down their shutters in broad daylight and I could have sworn I saw some ladies running on their Mahnolo Blahniks. The whole thing seemed surreal.
I didn't know what was happening until I found out I had no telephone signal. Glup.Apparently being a couch potato has its virtues-I've watched enough re-runs of "Twister" to realise a Typhoon was about to hit Hong Kong and soon. I hastily abandoned my delicious liquid Valhrona , made for Central MTR and was shocked when I saw what was before me.
There were thousands of people, shoving, jostling and screaming in Cantonese over at the entrance points. I was witnessing pure mass mayhem and it felt pretty much like I was in some foreign language horror movie without subtitles. The only intelligible thing at that point was a Typhoon 8 warning sign written in English near the turnstiles. It brought me cold comfort, but what else I could I do besides joining the terrible crowds? Public transportation would cease in 2 hours after the announcement and getting a cab/bus in a Hong Kong noon exodus would be like striking the lottery. I just prayed to God that I would get home in time and in one piece despite the melee. It sure didn't help that while I prayed, there were ladies who kept crying and fainting from the poor ventilation. It was both scary and vexing at the same time since the wait was long.By the time I did manage to get on the train, I was squashed by the crowds against the train doors . The queues only thinned out once it went past Kowloon.
Well, I am a little shaken from the experience ( not stirred, haha) but I thank God I emerged unscathed from the event. By nightfall, the typhoon did an about turn and the signal was fizzled to a 3. Transportation soon resumed to normal. So much for the mass panic!
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