The Australia Network

In 1993, Paul Keating had the idea to start an international television network broadcast by satellite to our Asian and Pacific neighbours. He originally wanted to use the network exclusively to broadcast insults at Dr Mahathir, but was eventually convinced that the new network would help engage Australia with the region by showcasing Australian culture, teaching English and encouraging foreign investment and trade with Australia.

The problem with this plan is that some of the people who live in Asia and the Pacific already speak English, and they do so in broad, semi-comprehensible Australian accents.  It turns out that these "Aussie expats" were also extremely keen on the idea of an Australian network engaging with them by showcasing football and police dramas.  These Aussie expats also had a fair bit of money and so attracted advertisers, which was handy because the Government is frankly not that keen on funding the ABC stations they can pick up in Canberra, let alone some mad venture to broadcast to dirt farmers in Ulaanbaatar.

As a result, the Australia Network has always been a bit of a messy compromise between the worthy and noble aim of engaging with Asia-Pacific and the no less worthy and noble aim of showing the footy.  

Unlike the venerable Radio Australia (which has broadcast since 1941), the Australia Network has only been around since 1993.  Still, it is telling that in that time it has managed no less than three name changes.  The whole debacle that was the Australia Network tender over the past 18 months has highlighted the fact that no-one really knows what to do with it.

As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the Australia Network.  I think it is a brilliant idea in theory which could be wonderful, both for engaging with the region and for entertaining expats. Unfortunately, you ultimately have to judge a television network by what programmes it shows, rather than by how good an idea it is in principle.  The Australia Network's programming is something of a mixed bag.

The good is indisputably the AFL.  For those Aussie expats who come from south of the Barassi line, four mostly live games of AFL a week is mana from heaven.  Frankly I'd be happy if they showed the footy and nothing else.  The network lost a lot of expat fans when they stopped showing the NRL a couple of seasons ago.  Those northerners found cold comfort in the NRL being available on Setanta for a mere A$15 a month.

The ABC News is pretty good too, if only for the fact I can still get my nightly dose of horrific financial news delivered with clever graphs by upbeat economist Alan Kohler.

The range of ABC documentaries and panel shows would be interesting if I hadn't seen them all several years ago in Australia.  The Gruen Transfer, the New Inventors, Foreign Correspondent and Catalyst are all two years old - which is a particular problem for a science and technology show.  I'm pretty sure I saw Bastard Boys before I had kids (pun not intended).  Two in the Top End is four years old - they were toasting Kevin Rudd for his decision to sign the Kyoto Protocol the other night in a nicely heartbreaking moment. Costa is still in his cult Garden Odyssey days on the Australia Network.

Then there are the cooking and lifestyle shows.  Poh's Kitchen is not so bad - especially when, a few months ago, it was on straight after BBC was showing Poh in an elimination challenge during Masterchef Season 1.  That kind of spoils it, when you can just check the programme guide and realise she's probably going to be okay.

Mercurio's Menu seems to be on every time I turn on the telly.  I did not even realise Paul Mercurio had a cooking show.  I have two questions: 1. Is this the same Paul Mercurio who starred in  Strictly Ballroom?  2. If so, why?

But my personal unfavourite is The Best in Australia.  I must have seen this show a dozen times on the Australia Network and I am none the wiser who the three chefs are or why the Australia Network felt that its already ample lineup of cooking shows needed one more entrant.  The internet tells me this is a Lifestyle Food channel show so I assume it is getting a wider audience on the Australia Network than in Australia.

Finally we have the Sunday Lights arts lineup.  You know how the ABC shows arts programmes from 3 to 5 on a Sunday afternoon?  Of course you don't.  You're watching the footy, mowing the lawn or interacting with your family.  Well, Australia Network has decided the arts is good for you and you are bloody well going to watch it.  So not only do they have a couple of hours worth from 3 to 5, just to make sure you don't miss it they replay it in prime time a couple of hours later.  Hooray - it's HMS Pinafore starring Jon English.  That guy just won't leave Gilbert and Sullivan alone, will he?

The only thing that gives me heart was when I visited Australia at Easter and realised that my memories of Australian television programming may have been just a little bit rose-tinted.  Seven had a promo for a show about traumatised fat people called Excess Baggage, Nine is committed to showing Two and a Half Men for as long as the Americans keep making it and Ten is reviving Young Talent Time.  Maybe having only one Australian channel isn't such a bad thing.

Get in line

In a city of 7 million people, there's going to be a lot of queuing.  There's a queue for the bus, for the lift, for lunch and especially for the new iPad.  I once witnessed a queue halfway around the block that was just to get into a department store lift.  I have never wanted to shop in a department store badly enough to join that queue.

There are several approaches to queuing in Hong Kong.  Ninety-nine percent of people queue, in the finest British tradition, with extraordinary patience.  They have long ago resigned themselves to the fact that doing anything in Hong Kong takes a really long time.  A visitor to Hong Kong can witness queues that curve neatly around corners and obstacles seemingly of their volition.  In some cases, the queue curves to avoid obstacles that have been moved out of the way since the queue formed.

Alternatively, you can just send your underlings to queue for them - the South China Morning Post recently carried a photo of a happy Lady Gaga fan so dedicated that he sent his maid to queue for concert tickets from 6 am.  He then swanned up when the box office opened at 9:30 am to pay for his tickets and give an interview.  Presumably forcing your maid to go out and queue at 6 am breeds the sort of resentment that would make giving her your credit card a bad idea.

A less amusing version of this is the increasingly popular practice of sending thugs to queue for consumer goods.  Whenever a hotly anticipated item goes on sale in Hong Kong (usually an iThingy - although in one case it happened at the release of a new designer range of women's clothing at H&M), grey market retailers send paid queuers along to buy as many as possible, for resale at a profit in mainland China and other countries where they haven't been released yet.  The thing about paid queuers is they don't really want to camp out overnight; so instead they just turn up fifteen minutes before the doors open and threaten to beat up the people in the existing queue.  At some point the police turn up and restore order, hopefully before anyone gets hurt. The SCMP generally describes these people as of "southern Asian appearance"; clearly this is supposed to be a euphemism for a particular nationality or ethnicity but I'm happy to say I have no idea which one.

The final approach is to just push in. Pushing in isn't exactly common in Hong Kong, but those that do employ this method have it down to a very fine art.  I firmly believe that Hong Kong queue-jumpers (pusher-inners?) can compete with the best in the world.  I often see tourists on the MTR left agape, unable to believe that someone has pushed in front of them so blatantly and shamelessly.   First, they wander up to the queue, feigning ignorance of where the queue starts or what the queue is for.  When the queue starts moving, they just step in front of the first person.  It's just that simple.  They wear earphones so that they can just blissfully ignore any angry remarks, and unless someone wants to challenge them physically they pretty much get away with it.

If only queuing and queue-jumping were sports, Hong Kong would be world champions.  So keep an eye out at the London Olympics.  Hongkongers will be there, competing with and beating the world - in the queues at the stadia, on the tube and at the check-in counter at the hotel.

Big White Guy

Just a short update - I wanted to point anyone interested in Hong Kong to what I think is Hong Kong's best blogger, Big White Guy.  This guy is a Canadian who has been blogging about life in Hong Kong since 1998 - which I'm pretty sure is before it was even called blogging.  He covers a lot of quirky and colourful news and happenings and he has a light and whimsical sense of humour which is a welcome contrast to my whiny-albeit-articulate ranting.

7 strange habits of Hongkongers

Hongkongers have a number of amusing and/or annoying little habits (depending on how much of a hurry you are in) which alone probably don't justify a whole blog post but together make a nice little profile.

1.  Interviewing fruit
I am always staggered at the supermarket by how long Hongkongers spend examining their fruit before deciding to take it.  Usually, I give fruit a quick turn to check all sides for blemishes, and unless there is anything major I'm pretty much okay with it.  By contrast, Hongkongers don't just give their fruit a cursory once over - they look deep into its soul, as if divining its path from tree to supermarket. I am not sure what they are looking for - perhaps they fear that they are trapped in The Matrix and are looking for signs of pixellation or motion blur.

2.  Apologising for no reason
This is probably one inherited from the British.  The locals are continuously apologising to me for everything and nothing.  This is most common in the corridors at my office, where people who are not even close to getting in my way are constantly apologising for being in my way.  This is very disconcerting to me. Frankly anyone who knows me knows that getting in my way frequently constitutes a public service.

3.  Opening the box
If you ever buy electronics in Hong Kong, always allow time to go through the compulsory ritual of opening the box and checking that every single component is there.  I have actually had the guy put batteries in a camera and turn it on for a quick test run.  On its face, this seems like the act of a kindly shopkeeper who wants to ensure customer satisfaction; what it actually means is that there is no frigging way they are going to allow you to return it for credit.  You're a long way from the Trade Practices Act here, son.

4.  Closing the lift doors
For slow walkers, Hongkongers are in one hell of a hurry.  There is a certain breed of impatient Hongkonger who makes it their duty to stab the "doors close" button of the lift approximately 0.3 seconds after the doors have opened on any floor that is not their destination.  Several times I have had to fling my hands into the closing doors while a guy inside the lift who can quite clearly see me holds down the close button in a battle of button versus infrared sensor.

5.  Agreeing but not agreeing
Explaining what you want to a call centre operator is hard enough in Australia.  In Hong Kong it is made rather more tricky by the fact that English is likely the operator's second language and they often have difficulty if the conversation goes off script for any reason.  Now of course this is much more my fault than theirs, given that I can speak all of five words of Cantonese.  However, what is annoying is their tendency to save face by just agreeing to whatever it is you just said.  After a while you get to recognise the reluctant "mmm" which means "I have no idea what you just said but I'm going to keep agreeing until you hang up."

6.  Throat clearing
Hongkongers look down on mainlanders for their habit of spitting in the street.  Hong Kong men would never be so gauche. They know to wait until they are in a public bathroom, at which point they let rip with the loudest, most unselfconscious loogey-hucking I have ever heard. I don't know if these guys smoke, have bronchitis or what but they are sure as hell not going to suffer in silence.

7.  Sleeping on your desk
I cannot fathom this one - I have trouble sleeping in an armchair or on a plane. Hongkongers by contrast are happy to just move their keyboard to one side and fall asleep forehead down on the desk. For the record, if you approach a co-worker who is snoozing at their desk at lunchtime, it is considered rude to leave the report they asked for on their shoulder blades.

Heartbreak High

To say Hongkongers are quite keen on education would be like saying Charlie Sheen is quite keen on cocaine.  It is only a slight exaggeration to say that Hongkongers consider a good education more important for their children than oxygen.

Evidence of this is everywhere in Hong Kong, although the most prominent examples are the massive billboards advertising tutor schools.  Tutor schools offer cram classes for high school students.  You remember back at high school, how every day after school finished you were just raring to start an evening of tutorials?  No?  Well, you weren't competing for a university place with tens of thousands of other students who were.

These billboards have to be seen to be believed - therefore I have included a modest example below.  They generally feature the tutors dressed and coiffed like members of One Direction (for those of us over 30, read New Kids on the Block) with their name and subject in lights.

Actually the billboard above has an unusual number of older guys in glasses (notice that those guys teach subjects like physics and chemistry, while the pretty young things generally teach English).  This school must have not run this ad past their agency - most billboards are 90% cool young dudes like Alan Chan there on the far left.   The more successful tutors earn millions, drive sports cars, get recognised in the street and (I can safely assume) alienate the remainder of the academic community.

Just in case you are missing him already, here is Alan on the side of a tram, this time wearing a cool leather jacket. Not sure if his hair is parted on the other side or the photo has been flipped.

But the insanity need not wait until you are in school.  It can start when you apply for schools.  Hong Kong has a severe shortage of English-speaking schools, which are the desirable kind for expats and locals alike.  Of course, the government has plenty of money and could fund more schools at any time, but in important areas like real estate and education, the Hong Kong government likes to encourage shortages in order to generate a bit of desperate Darwinian competition amongst the populace.

The number of applications to international and other English-speaking schools is staggering.  Last year, the German-Swiss School (which despite its name teaches in English and German) received 1,600 applications for 120 vacancies.  The numbers would be similar at other international schools.

Shortly after my arrival in Hong Kong, there was a story in the paper about a man who had been successfully prevented from jumping to his death from a bridge in Wan Chai.  He was suicidal because his daughter had failed to get a place in a private school. I can only hope they sent Alan Chan out to talk him down.  That guy looks like he could handle anything.