1. Hello,


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    StanleyOG.

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  2. Hello,


    You can now get verified on forum.

    The way it's gonna work is that you can send me a PM with a verification picture. The picture has to contain you and forum name on piece of paper or on your body and your username or my username instead of the website name, if you prefer that.

    I need to be able to recognize you in that picture. You need to have some pictures of your self in your gallery so I can compare that picture.

    Please note that verification is completely optional and it won't give you any extra features or access. You will have a check mark (as I have now, if you want to look) and verification will only mean that you are who you say you are.

    You may not use a fake pictures for verification. If you try to verify your account with a fake picture or someone else picture, or just spam me with fake pictures, you will get Banned!

    The pictures that you will send me for verification won't be public


    Best regards,

    StanleyOG.

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  1. Hush

    Hush Happy Hhedonist

    Joined:
    Jul 21, 2008
    Messages:
    16,025
    Though I often think back on if fondly, today on the news feeds an article had been posted on a place which I used to live for a while, long gone and probably just better forgotten, though likely to never be experienced again. The place to those who lived there was known as Hak Nam. Kowloon Walled City the formal name I guess, Kowloon or 9-Dragons essentially Hong Kong of old before the British moved out and the Chinese took over.

    It's hard to imagine, yet in an area that covered under 7-acres, when I lived there roughly 15,000 others did. By 1990 in that same area simply moving up and crowding it even more, 50,000 people lived there. It really was an amazing place with all of the people, shops, factories, brothels, restaurants, dentists and physicians, and the list just goes on.

    In any case, I'm posting this in that as terrible as it may have seemed, it was really a wonderful place filled with wonderful people. In any case though I have written on my time there at length, for the moment, if interested in seeing the article google "A renegade photographer got inside this lawless Hong Kong community that was 119 times as dense as New York City" and if you'd like to see even more google "kowloon-walled-city-photos."

    Such a place will likely never be seen again.

    [​IMG]

    [​IMG]

    Hush....an alias
     
    • Like Like x 2
    1. View previous comments...
    2. shootersa
      And you should write down your story, Shooter for one would love to read it.
       
      shootersa, Apr 9, 2017
      justpassingthru and Hush like this.
    3. freethinker
      That's a book I'd buy.
       
      freethinker, Apr 9, 2017
      justpassingthru and Hush like this.
    4. seafoam1
      You are far to modest, @Hush.
      Just from the bits and pieces that you have shared here, you have an incredible story.
       
      seafoam1, Apr 9, 2017
      justpassingthru and Hush like this.
    5. thinskin
      I would read a history of our forum bitch also!!;)

      ts
       
      thinskin, Apr 9, 2017
      Hush likes this.
    6. Hush
      Well thanks all but until 30 there was nothing good or interesting about it. In any case, if folks who I regularly interact with here wish to depress themselves, as said I have out of that first 30-years only roughly 2 years of written down thus far. A few bits before and after, yet I had enough for a bit after writing that. Those really interested, PM me some of the "fetish" oriented sites you're on, and if it is the one I have it posted at, I'll give you my user name there... But trust me, you will regret it.

      Hush....an alias
       
      Hush, Apr 10, 2017
    #1
  2. stumbler

    stumbler Porn Star

    Joined:
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    Interesting. Thanks Hush.
     
    • Like Like x 2
    #2
  3. TwoCards

    TwoCards Porn Star Banned!

    Joined:
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    40 sq ft per person, better be a "people" person.
     
    • Like Like x 1
    #3
  4. Heywood123

    Heywood123 Porn Star

    Joined:
    May 2, 2014
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    So its like Somerville ma with way more hookers
     
    • Like Like x 1
    #4
  5. freethinker

    freethinker Pervy Bear

    Joined:
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    Thank you, Hush.
     
    • Like Like x 1
    #5
  6. conroe4

    conroe4 Lake Lover In XNXX Heaven

    Joined:
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    I need more than 40 sq ft. I can't even sleep in 40 sq ft.
     
    • Like Like x 1
    1. freethinker
      Don't ever go to jail.
       
      freethinker, Apr 9, 2017
      justpassingthru, Hush and TwoCards like this.
    2. conroe4
      How funny. My king size bed is bigger.
       
      conroe4, Apr 9, 2017
      Hush likes this.
    #6
  7. SilverLycan

    SilverLycan The XnXX Alpha Wolf

    Joined:
    Jul 31, 2008
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    I'm always fascinated by reading about the walled city... A fictionalized version of it was featured in a video game (it was a very well done game, more of an interactive novel, with some RTS and RPG elements) I played a few years ago.
     
    • Like Like x 1
    #7
  8. TwoCards

    TwoCards Porn Star Banned!

    Joined:
    Jun 7, 2014
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    [​IMG]
     
    • Like Like x 1
    1. Hush
      In my memoirs of it, one of my earliest memories is racing through Hak Nam down to the street to gather rocks, and then we'd all run back through the place to get to the right spot on the roof to try and hit the passing jets with them. If the wind was right they'd fly so close you could feel the heat and smell the jet-wash.

      Hush....an alias
       
      Hush, Apr 9, 2017
      Rixer and TwoCards like this.
    2. SilverLycan
      You're very good at painting images with words, Hush. I remember when you shared some stories of your time in Hak Nam with me.
       
      Last edited: Apr 9, 2017
      SilverLycan, Apr 9, 2017
    #8
  9. Heywood123

    Heywood123 Porn Star

    Joined:
    May 2, 2014
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    Some streets were constantly illuminated by florescent light becuase they would never get any sunlight becuase of the shadows of other buildings. I live in a pretty crowded part of the city but there's plenty of green space were you can get plenty of sunlight. I would have a problem with never seeing the sun. But I also couldn't imagine not being able to see the ocean
     
    • Like Like x 1
    #9
  10. msman

    msman Porn Star Banned!

    Joined:
    Dec 18, 2010
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    I would never have been able to live in such a place. Was that 40 sq.ft. before or after they made room for the streets?
    Really I guess if that was the only place I knew of I would think other places were strange.
     
    #10
  11. Hush

    Hush Happy Hhedonist

    Joined:
    Jul 21, 2008
    Messages:
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    Though I realize it is difficult to understand, Hak Nam though an entire city made up of many buildings, was essentially like one big building that you keep adding on to. As an example, this is what it eventually built up to:

    [​IMG]

    And here would be one of the outer faces of it:

    *not_secure_link*cdn1.i-scmp.com/sites/default/files/styles/980x551/public/2014/04/10/ed16c1c425d7cc11bcb2a8e786b00451.jpg?itok=8U-laRbO

    [​IMG]

    Each one of those stacks was built like a separate building. SO the "streets" as you call them were like this:

    *not_secure_link*68.media.tumblr.com/0859c499bd019c74b2c66873d57f005b/tumblr_nbegkvCeR31qcrc2co1_500.jpg
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    *not_secure_link*www.greggirard.com/content/gallery/KWC_postmanb.jpg
    [​IMG] *not_secure_link*cityofdarkness.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Dark-City-03.jpg
    *not_secure_link*jimcofer.com/personal/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/kowloon_walled_city_alley.jpg

    Hush....an alias
     
    1. msman
      I can't even begin to think what that would be like.
      Until I became grown I lived in a town with less than 100 people. Didn't have a signal light but did have a speed zone sign on both ends of town.
      Only had one paved road going through it.
       
      msman, Apr 9, 2017
      Hush likes this.
    2. Heywood123
      I doubt my Nissan would fit
       
      Heywood123, Apr 9, 2017
      Hush likes this.
    #11
  12. msman

    msman Porn Star Banned!

    Joined:
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    11,153
    Hush, do they have any cars? I don't imagine they would.
     
    1. Hush
      No...

      Hush....an alias
       
      Hush, Apr 9, 2017
    #12
  13. Hush

    Hush Happy Hhedonist

    Joined:
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    Messages:
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    So to give you an idea of how dark it was, in the center of the city there was a temple which you can see pretty well in this model:

    *not_secure_link*l7.alamy.com/zooms/773fb6e92efd4a49bf70e504d03ee53a/a-scale-model-of-the-old-kowloon-walled-city-before-it-was-demolised-d2xwn7.jpg

    However, because trash and other things would fall down on it (there was not trash pick-up or waste disposal), they built a chain link sort of covering for that entire center section. Shortly however it filled up, and then became a place where many folks just chucked their trash:

    *not_secure_link*i921.photobucket.com/albums/ad56/romanmars/41d27200164bed2c5946e4e25e62ceb0.jpg

    [​IMG]

    Here's a more famous photo of a "street":
    [​IMG]

    The jets would also fly MUCH closer than this if the wind was right:

    *not_secure_link*79hbm1979mg58bnh1fp50y1bry.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/KWC_rooftop03-1024x689.jpg

    Here is the "Walled City" in 1910, now you know why it was called that, yet to most it was "Hak Nam" there were even old cannons there inside:

    [​IMG]

    Here are the cannons:
    [​IMG]

    Hush....an alias
     
    #13
  14. Hush

    Hush Happy Hhedonist

    Joined:
    Jul 21, 2008
    Messages:
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    More "street" pictures:

    *not_secure_link*i42.photobucket.com/albums/e308/Cassecroute/street1.jpg

    *not_secure_link*theaidworker.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/HK-01-1-109-02_HK_Issues_WalledCity_Kowloon_IllegalFood.jpg
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    *not_secure_link*www.is-there-a-god.info/graphics/insidewalledcity.jpg



    One of the many well heads they put in to get water:
    [​IMG]


    You guys really should check out the images. It was like no where else. The roof was the big social area in that the shanty town slum that surrounded it also was so heavily roofed that there were few places that sunlight came in.

    Anywho, I'll maybe post a brief I wrote about it years ago when I was writing about my time as a slave. Just 2-years into 7 of my experience already spanning 160,000+ words, and that was keeping it vague.

    Hush....an alias
     
    1. freethinker
      Is it available anywhere?
       
      freethinker, Apr 9, 2017
      Hush likes this.
    2. Hush
      What? Oh, I just posted the short version.

      Hush....an alias
       
      Hush, Apr 9, 2017
    #14
  15. msman

    msman Porn Star Banned!

    Joined:
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    11,153
    I now know where they are talking about when they say they are going to put a person in someplace sunlight has to be piped in.
     
    • Like Like x 2
    #15
  16. Hush

    Hush Happy Hhedonist

    Joined:
    Jul 21, 2008
    Messages:
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    From my series of posts writing about my time as a forced slave. Please know I wrote this quite a few years ago, so was still working on reading and writing, plus working with many of the old memories was taxing, so had me rushing through parts and writing even more poorly:


    Disposable: Experiences of a Forced Slave, No.12…


    >>>Warning!<<<

    The following posts in this series deal with extremely negative subject matter. Forced Slavery, Rape, Prostitution, Drug Addiction, Starvation, Violence, Torture and Death. If a real accounting of those aspects disturb you, cease reading now. If those topics turn you on, fuck off and die as you perpetuate the suffering of others for your own pathetic jollies. Also know the descriptions of any sex will be limited, go find your jerk-off fodder elsewhere. This warning will be added to each post.

    As I awoke in the crate to be perfectly frank what I recall until I was healed could for all I know have been nothing more then fevered delusions. Every injury I had experienced at "the Farm" as I call it had never been tended to, I had numerous weeks of exposure, was starving, sick most likely in many ways, and probably had parasites and was diseased. How I survived I really have no idea, in fact I didn’t even have a will to live from what I recall. In any case, though it all seems like a dream to me still this is the little bit I do remember, how factual it was till better I can’t say.

    It’s hard to explain being dead when alive. Apathy would be the most pale description of it, suffice to say as far as I was concerned I was dead already, and my mind and body just didn’t get it yet. As ridiculous as it sounds, that very thought crossed my mind almost constantly I recall. I knew I still hurt terribly, was very sick, tired and weak, yet my body would still move slightly inside the confines of the crate. I could feel the rain dripping on me through the holes, knew I was cold and even felt cramped.

    Most of all I knew I could think. I could remember all of my life up to that point, all the bad and all of the good. More so I also could plan, so after my experience when I was drugged feeling dead, and coming so close to being shot, it actually made me wonder if this is what being dead really was. Your body would continue to feel, and your mind would continue to think, yet your body would slowly rot away, and any injuries to you though now helpless you would feel.

    As simple minded as I used to be the first images that came to my mind were of the chickens I’d sometimes kill to eat on the farm. It made me actually feel terrible, that after I had caught them and wrung their neck or chopped their heads off, they could still feel and knew everything I did to them. Feel themselves plucked, gutted then roasted over a fire. Feel my hands ripping them apart, feel each and every bite I took and while doing so their mind was screaming out to just cluck loud enough that I’d leave them alone. Then it struck me how much worse it would be to be road-kill I had seen. How they’d have to lay there and suffer rotting away.

    Having nothing else to dwell on I remember specifically debating for a while whether I would rather be roasted and eaten or slowly rot away. That question I never could answer. What I could however was the more pressing one. I could barely move due to the confines of the crate, being sore, stiff and frankly too sick and tired. As stupid as it sounds I remember trying very hard to "cluck" loud enough that someone would hear me and thus leave me alone, and when I tried and tried unable to make a sound, at best just air rasping through my chest, I was sure of it then.

    I was dead.

    The longer I sat there scrunched up be it minutes, hours or days the more I became resolved that I was dead, so this was it and what it was like. In other words, the great mystery to all humans now revealed to me. More so I realized there was nothing I could do about it. So with nothing to do I figured I’d just sleep, and somewhere in my blackness as back then it was rare if ever that I dreamed, someone woke me as the crate I was in moved.

    The entire time it was moving, my guess (now) being on a hand truck as I’d be shook by each of the hard seams it would roll over, all I could think of was one thing. Just cluck, try again, cluck louder. When it stopped and someone began banging on the side I remember it also flashing through my head "no, just let me rot" as I suppose I assumed I’d be eaten. Sure now it sounds crazy, back then I probably was at that moment, or at least semi-delirious. But once it opened realizing I couldn’t cluck, nor even move, I recall just looking out as a man squat down speaking to me harshly, and gestured for me to come out.

    When I didn’t move or say anything, he began yelling at me. Finally I guess he got it, I was dead, as he reached inside and jammed his fingers to the side of my neck all while I kept telling myself "cluck louder." Pushing at my neck here, then there, he finally sat back and sighed and then I must have done something. I’m not sure what, maybe I blinked, drooled, gasped, or who knows maybe I finally clucked. In any case he reached in and grabbed my arm and pulled me part way out, and when the rest of me didn’t come he grabbed my hair and finished the job.

    I recall how cold the rusty steel deck felt against my skin. I also recall how angry he was getting that I’d not get up, as none of his nudges or yelling would get me to budge. It was natural to me, I was dead after all. He apparently didn’t get it though, I was dead and he wanted me to do things that only those alive did. So with that I remember laying there as he stood up and opened a shipping container door, yelled and waived inside, then turned around and picked me up laying me just inside and then he shut the door.

    In the brief time the door was open I saw perhaps twenty others in there crowded to the back hiding and cringing much like the first girls I encountered who were slaves, and then the door slammed shut, many of them yelped, and a few began to weep and whimper. In time it grew quiet. In fact the entire time in the container I don’t think I heard a single person speak. More so, I recall how bad it smelled in there. The air was hot and humid as it was, stale due to no circulation, yet then add to that the funk and waste twenty or so bodies might produce.

    In any case it didn’t matter. I was dead, and since they weren’t eating me I was rotting, or at least that’s how I smelled, and how I felt. So tired as I was I just slept through most of it, and it only changed what was probably a few days later. Once more the door opened and in a mix of a few languages a man behind me began shouting I guess for everyone to get out. Weeping and yelping every single person in the container moved out quickly stepping over me, all of them dressed, and all of them female.

    Finally, whomever it was that ordered them out began yelling at me and poking me to move. Great, another one who didn’t realize I was dead, and frankly I was feeling so bad I suppose I didn’t even try to cluck as he poked and prodded at my neck, and then dragged me out by my arm naked as I had been the last day in the Philippines. I remember how he felt my neck again, then felt my forehead and said something to another man.

    Didn’t they get it? I just wanted to be left alone to rot, and I remember thinking that as I turned on my side and curled up to get them to leave me be. Now I lay there quite some time like that while they dealt with the others, and just lay there the longest time rotting away until it suddenly struck me that I had actually moved. I even remember debating that fact for a while as frankly I was becoming less and less clear headed. Finally I recall as I lay there staring at my hand as I began slowly wiggling my fingers, and I did so for quite a while and then don’t recall much.

    Wrapped in a blanket that was tied up I’d guess around my ankles and chest, I remember being laid out on an upper deck and the rain coming down soaking me. I remember small groups of the gals being lowered over the side in cargo nets, and finally I recall looking out the end of the blanket seeing the deck of the ship suddenly vanish and there was just open ocean as I was lowered down I guess. Finally I recall a hard pounding laying on the floor of a boat I’d venture as it bounced over waves.

    Though it was night out, the next thing I recall was being carried still in the blanket and the guy wearing sunglasses looked down at me and smirked curling his nose saying to me in English "you like smell? Welcome Joe-Long (how it sounded)." All I remember was I didn’t care, all the jostling made me want to cough yet I couldn’t, and I vaguely think I was put in a truck and rode quite a ways and then was off-loaded once more.

    This time whom ever was carrying me had tossed me over their shoulder. We went through many halls or perhaps tunnels, and the place stank like a sewer. Then I recall it was like we went up steps forever having to stop often. The one carrying me would I guess gripe to the other, they’d trade off, back and forth down this tunnel, or up these stairs and finally I remember looking up seeing the guy with the sunglasses again. Just like before he smirked and curled his nose again saying this time "you like smell? Welcome Hak-Nam."

    Past that I don’t recall much else except for tiny fragments that were rather confusing. An old woman looking at me covering her nose, and an old man poking and prodding at me as he looked me over from head to toe I’d guess, the part striking me most being his palpating the hinges of my jaw. Other old women I think bathing me, others applying bandages or salves, but all only a glimpse at best then nothing.

    If I had to guess, and it would only be just that, at that point I probably had a long list of physical issues. Most likely pneumonia, a few broken bones most notably my jaw, numerous sprains, numerous funguses, bacterial dermatitis, complications from concussive injuries, kidney, liver, digestive problems, parasites both internal and external, the list probably going on and on. To be sure I was severely dehydrated and malnourished if not starving, lord knows what bacterial and viral diseases, possibly countless STD’s (though to this day I’ve never tested positive for any), fleas, lice, sores, cuts, electrical burns, etc. etc., you name it I probably had it.

    How long I was in and out of consciousness I have no idea. Could have been days or weeks for all I knew. In any case I eventually was brought out of it. When I was I was like a mummy with all of the bandages, splints and so on. Something was wedged between my molars on the left side, and my head was wrapped up I guess to keep my jaw from moving. My fingers and toes had been straightened, so had to have been re-broken, yet that was probably the most minor part of it.

    A couple times a day these old women would come in, remove my bandages and dressings, carefully bathe the areas and then apply a vast array of ointments then redress them. All I can guess is all that time sitting in mud and our own waste soaking wet for so long compounded by the injuries had me a wreck. In kind daily a spot behind my ear would be scratched at with something sharp. Not a big spot, perhaps a quarter-inch around.

    Unfortunately no good deed goes unpunished. A few times a day the old man who I assume was a doctor would try to give me injections. That meant an army of people was required to hold me down so afraid. Just as bad would be when they’d try to bathe me, anywhere I’d be fine, yet the second they’d get a wet towel near my face I’d go wild which was surprising as the rest of the time I just lay there unmoving.

    Without exaggeration if they did not move me, I didn’t. For however long I was there I either slept or simply stared at the corrugated steel wall I’ll never forget. Painted a putrid green color, a large number painted high on it, and stenciled Chinese characters along one seam. Stained from years of grease, and a constant trickle of water down a couple of the ribs. To this day I can still see that wall. The number was "41" in a tall thin classic Soviet style font. The characters I’ve only been able to partially translate, something about weight and a lift point so my guess being it was also part of a shipping container.

    The worst part though was me. Up to that point I had zero imagination having never been exposed to anything, no TV or radio most times, and the very few times I saw or heard it even music it simply confused me so much I’d blot it out. So instead I lay there looking at that wall and went over my memories again and again. No changing of them, gilding or tarnishing them, just flat out and blunt. So it was, me laying there staring or being tended to or fed, and though I had no dreams of better things or worse, and no imagination to build with, I had regret, and could at least wish that I would simply be dead.

    Eventually the day came that the old man did not give me a shot or that the old women tried to shove pills or medicine down my throat or swab ointments on me. That day the old man came in with a younger one in a suit perhaps in his early 30’s, and as he unwrapped my dressings the younger one just stared smirking. Removing the wrap around my head the old man pulled out the wedge from my mouth. With that he began slipping in tongue depressors one after another in the same place till they began to hurt and finally put one hand on the top of my head and one on my chin and pushed hard.

    I hadn’t been able to move my jaw for some time unless forced, yet in that instant I heard a crunch like gristle not bone crunching and a pop. With that he yanked out the depressors, and like new my jaw moved fine (though hurt for some time). Instantly the young man nodded and said something to him then without a word to me walked out. The Doctor got up and left as well, and in a few minutes a younger woman came in, made me get up wrapping me in a blanket, and began walking me through the tunnels once more until we came to an open door and walked in.

    Inside was another old woman. On second thought, an ancient woman as the others were clearly very old, yet this one looked ten times as simply saying something to the younger gal I guess in Cantonese. The younger then led me to a window that went clear to the floor with bars over it and told me in English to rest there (on a little mattress on the floor). Glancing to the old woman as I laid down two things struck me that I never saw change my entire time there. Constantly that woman smoked a pipe, and never once in my entire time there did I ever see her leave that rocking chair. Ever. I know she made me food, know she had to sleep, go to the bathroom, change, bathe and so on, yet like some surreal specter I never, ever saw her leave that chair.

    That first day there I remember only once looking out the window due to the almost constant loud noises pouring in. Horns honking, jets screaming past sounding like they were so close they’d hit the place, yet for all intents and purposes I could see nothing as it was pouring down rain and a dense fog or perhaps cloud blocked my view. With that I just turned over and stared at the old woman till I went to sleep.

    When I woke there was a bowl of soup. When I needed to use the bathroom the old woman would just point with her pipe to a curtain with a bucket behind it. When I stood up and walked to the door slowly, the old woman would just shake her head no, wag her pipe at me and then point back to the bed for me to lay down. For a couple days it went like that, the only highlights being twice a day a younger guy would bring in a large can of water, one of those military fuel can looking things, and swap out buckets for the bathroom. In kind a younger woman would come and scratch at that spot behind my ear with a needle.

    On what might have been the third day I remember I had laid there most of the night finally becoming tuned in to my surroundings. It was still dark out though I could hear the rain had stopped yet there was that ever present cloud or fog. The noises were lessened from outside, yet it suddenly struck me just how loud this place really was. The room itself seemed to hum and buzz so loud you could actually hear it. More so you could even feel it, like the whole place vibrated and shook and when I stayed still I could even feel it actually ever so slightly sway.

    It was as though the building itself was alive like a bee hive, thousands moving around all at once all making noise, and it would all compound and congeal into a constant single sound and vibration. I could hear and even feel people above, below and to the sides of us in other rooms moving around, talking and so on. There was so much noise and movement however it all merged into a hum and vibration, and so I lay as the sounds from outside grew, cars began passing though sounding far below. Jets began coming in, and slowly but surely the room began to light up from outside.

    There she was like always, the old woman sitting in her chair staring at me with her little ever present smirk though this time she clearly was waiting for something. Staring back and neither of us saying anything as the room grew brighter and brighter, all of a sudden something caught her eye behind me, and with that she slowly raised her pipe, pointing with it to the window and said at first in Cantonese, "Joe-Long" (Jiu-Long`). Then as clear as any westerner in English, "Nine Dragons."

    I actually recall scrunching up my face wondering what she was talking about having no idea what a dragon was. Her pointing not changing however found me turning my head, and though I can only envision what I must have done in my mind I believe this is what happened.

    Turning my head round my jaw literally dropped. I remember that as it crunched badly when I closed it. As though in a trance I slowly turned round on all fours and stood walking hesitantly toward the bars over the open window. Instantly absolute terror washed over me as at the same time absolute wonder as there it was. Jiu-Long, Gau-Long, Kowloon, Nine Dragons, or to most what you might typically imagine as being old Hong Kong.

    I cannot even begin to describe to you the pure wonder that was so terrifying that I could not look away I felt at that moment. Up to that point in my life I had only seen the rural mountains of East Tennessee, the outlying single level homes of Johnson City, and best that I recall 2-3 story buildings of Olongapo, Philippines. There before me were what seemed to me like skyscrapers like do not exist in most places around the world even now. The city seemed to go on forever, and it was only then that I actually realized how high up I was as it seemed like standing on some mountain top as I looked out over the city.

    As I slowly panned down to the source of all the noise there in the street below, at one time, in one place were more people then I had ever seen in my entire life. More cars then I had ever watched drive by all together, it was so surreal I stood there, naked as the day I was born pressed to the bars in front of the floor to ceiling window gazing out at what seemed to me to be every person that existed in the world all in one place.

    It is impossible for me to describe what that sight was like. Try to imagine looking up as the rings of Saturn a million times bigger than earth crash into it as you gaze at that massive planet slowly coming toward you. Never in my life before, nor in all the years since have I ever been so stunned. You have to remember you know of cities, know of how many people exist, know of crowding, traffic jams, all of the aspects of urban life. Yet at that point in mine I knew of none of it. I had never watched TV, looked in a magazine or seen it in a book. No one had ever tried to explain it to me… Hell… Imagine instead waking up out in Saturn’s rings, and you’re still not even close as you know what Saturn is.

    Bluntly, I couldn’t even fathom being up as high as I was, and no more than 30 seconds into it, a large jet airliner so close it seemed that I could touch it screamed by almost floating moving so slow as it made the hard descent and turn to Kai Tak airport. With that I began shaking yet no matter how hard I tried I could not let go of the bars staring out. I know it had to be a couple hours like that, in fact when the girl came in to scratch behind my ear she couldn’t even get me to let go I was so in shock.

    Once I finally calmed myself a couple hours later, I recall how much my hands hurt as I used the bathroom and then returned to the window to sit with my legs through the bars dangling as I gazed out trying to grasp what I was seeing. I don’t know, perhaps I thought it was all fake and might vanish just as it had appeared. The food brought to me I ate there, and I do recall how every noise behind me felt to me like some deliberate distraction to get me to look away so the city before me could disappear once more.

    All day I remained there until finally one of the younger women named Cow came in almost having to wrestle me away to get me to pay attention to her. Once I had it was surprising the patience she had with me. Though I don’t recall the conversation verbatim, in a nutshell she explained in very good English to me how that was Kowloon out there and we were in Hong Kong. How Fang (my guess a nickname) "saved" me from the Filipinos. She then droned on about how wonderful he was, and how grateful I should be, and how lucky I was to have an owner that would treat me like an uncle.

    She then went on about how safe I now was. How due to Fang, no one would ever harm me, and that I was even so blessed that he had insisted that I be marked for protection (that spot behind my ear) which she touched and then wrote a single Chinese character in the dust on the floor by the window. At that point she told me I needed to start walking again, and with that she pulled me up, handed me some clothes she had brought in and walked to the open door standing there and waiting. I must have just stared at her for the longest time before she very friendly gestured for me and said to "come on."

    What I do recall is her confusion at me walking out into the hallway naked and then putting on the pair of shorts, flip flops and tank top, and we slowly began walking down this hall then that, up these stairs and then down all very slowly so I could keep up, my legs so weak. Eventually we emerged on the roof, and I recall very specifically how she looked back at me grinning I suspect at what she knew my reaction would be.

    The roof itself was a landscape that even now I have trouble describing. TV antennas were everywhere. Posts, wires, little shacks and fences, none of it matching and all of it chaotically placed as though just plopped down there. Slowly she walked me to near the edge with a make shift wire fence there, and encouraged me to lay down and crawl out till I could look over the edge. That moment looking down to the street so out in the open, I recall all at once freezing from the height just as a massive jet roared up and past so close I thought it would hit us and a bunch of horns sounded on the street below, all as I could see out over the city.

    I guess that moment I must have wet myself, I recall feeling like I was going to black out, then how Cow had to literally pry my fingers off the wires to get me to let go and pull me back. Vaguely I recall her sincerely apologizing in that I suppose she thought this would be a magnificent sight for me, and it was. Yet more than anything it was absolutely terrifying thrust into some alien world the sights sounds and people all so different then what I had ever experienced.

    Literally holding me tight to her as we walked back, instead of taking me back to the old woman Cow took me to what I suppose was her apartment to bathe and change me. Not much bigger than a typical western bedroom all toll, inside there were three other women two dressed and one in a bra and panties and they all began chattering away in Cantonese when I insisted on stripping at the door.

    Once inside, Cow and another bathed me, and seeing I had lost my shoes on the roof took a lot of time bathing my coal black soles. That I remember very specifically. I remember it so specifically in that I recall almost reflexively beginning to reach for my twat instantly thinking to masturbate. Though I stopped myself, I know the women saw it, I remember how confused I instantly became unsure as to whether I was supposed to or not, whether they expected me to or not, whether I wanted to or not, and that massive confusion heaped on with all I had just seen that day had me suddenly breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably.

    There is no way for me to explain how I was feeling that very moment. Worse still, as I began wailing without a sound made I suddenly felt these four women all crowding around and pressing to and holding me. I had really only known comforting from one other thing in my life. Whether they realized it or not it just amplified how I was feeling having come from an indescribable hell to being told, made to feel, and shown comfort and caring.

    After a few minutes I suppose seeing what they were doing wasn’t helping as I simply couldn’t stop, one of the girls pulled at me to get me to look out their window and I hesitantly turned round leaning my head out and that was the capper.

    The old woman had said clearly "nine dragons," and sure enough there I was, in the gut of the dragon. Like some massive chimney or looking up from halfway down the dragons throat, side to side, up and down I was looking up a massive shaft walled with haphazard chaotic structures built one on top of the other. Nothing matched, wires were strung everywhere, the noise from all the people coming from the open windows seemed deafening, and the word "gut" was never more appropriate from the smells wafting up. How long I looked I can’t say, what I can pretty much guess at is I passed out.

    In reality, I really was in the gut of the Nine Dragons or Kowloom of Hong Kong. I was in a place the likes of which will never be seen again. Hak Nam, or Kowloon Walled City, what they I guess also call the "City of Darkness."

    Reading up on it years later when I thought back to my past, though clearly it was all a bad situation, nothing was going to change it. So I guess needing a silver lining as tarnished as it may be, I’d say I have been fortunate to see things that will never be seen again. Oh to be sure some things that won’t be seen because they shouldn’t be, the worst parts of mankind in some cases, in others perhaps just the color you find in old black and white movies. To a great degree many due to the dates I saw them were the last gasps of an old world before it all started turning to new.

    Things like a true old time naval port of call being Subic Bay, and Olongapo. Nine Dragons (Kowloon, Hong Kong) and the Walled City or City of Darkness being Hak Nam while the British still ruled. Bangkok as many imagine it, the jungle and savanna of Africa, the Favelas of Rio where I lived for a while. True Amazon Jungle and the gold camps there worked by hand. Large coke factories of Colombia and Peru, numerous battles up close, all in all essentially a lot of old world that is long gone. Heck, I even have had the good fortune to sit at real obstruction seats at both the old Tiger Stadium and Wrigley Field.

    Most of those are bad things, some terrible things. Things that are finally forced out and plowed under for the living hells they were, BUT….They’ll never be seen again. Don’t get me wrong, I highly doubt you’ll hear some old Jew say "Ahh Auschwitz, now those were the good old days!" But when finally needing to resolve some of my well earned issues I found for me that embracing some memories verses trying to forget or fight them was the trick to get past them.

    As much as Hak Nam was some surreal nightmare it was also some thing that I can look back on and was glad I experienced. More so as you’ll read if you continue on, just like most slums, as terrible and as dangerous as they are, they also protect their own. Never to this very day have I ever felt as much of a part of a community than I felt in Hak Nam and eventually Rochina in Rio. More so I felt accepted. Most other places I was an outsider, and worse still in most peoples eyes an "American" so hated by most.

    In Hak Nam I was not only made to feel welcome yet I also felt like I fit in. In fact, as much of a hell it really was there, if events had not played out as they did I would have stayed until they tore the place down and been a Hong Kong resident today. Don’t get me wrong, I realize that a big part of me getting along that I was frankly a bought and sold slave owned by Fang who was part of the Triads (which gang I’m not sure).

    Just like other times in my life if situations wouldn’t have changed I would have proudly remained a slave. Hell, to be blunt about it, I would have sucked and fucked every cock they set before me just so I could hand every penny over to my owners at such times. It still stuns yet pleases me for others how true slavers never get that. How all it takes for someone like me is feeling welcomed and safe, as coming from much worse no matter the hell it may be it seems like heaven… and as much as I hate to say it, such times I discovered what being happy was.

    In any case, how I got back I’ve no idea, yet I awoke back under the watchful eye of the old woman naked and staring out the window. After eating, the rest of that night I just laid there looking outside at the sights of the city at night, and listening to and feeling the hive of humanity that was Hak Nam.

    The next day when I awoke to the sound of a jet screaming past, there was my food which I ate still staring out, and after I had eaten and done other morning things, in came the woman to scratch behind my ear, and soon after Cow once more. Again Cow brought me new clothes, this time a dress and another pair of flip flops though today she tried to get me to dress inside to which I refused. Soon enough I discovered why, as when I stepped outside the door there were two boys and a girl probably my age waiting, all three turning round shocked I suppose, and not until Cow said something to them in Cantonese once I had dressed did they turn back.

    I’m ashamed to say I do not recall a single one of their names though introduced. However this would be the only time I spent any amount of time with them, and in that I couldn’t speak as you might suspect for the most part I just followed them around that day. The day was a full one to be sure. Literally they must have walked me through every corridor, up every flight of stairs and ladder from the lowest level to the roof. Every person we would encounter they made a point to tell them who I was though in Cantonese, and I suppose also explain why I was so rude not to respond.

    Everyone was nice, or perhaps just polite. No doubt due to Fang, as there were some characters we’d meet who were clearly irritated by us, yet each time they’d just turn my head and point to behind my ear and grudgingly they’d politely nod and go on their way.

    Hak Nam was everything you may have read about and much more. They had little mini-factories there, machine shops, anything with food processing, doctors, dentists, whores, thieves, strip clubs, bars, restaurants, gambling, churches, the list goes on. If you took every business legal or not of an entire city, and every home, and crammed it all into one giant makeshift building each in its own tiny little room, right down to street people and street signs that was Hak Nam. A Bee Hive of humanity is a perfect description.

    Part way through the day one of the boys noted the wind change. I had a lot of trouble keeping up, yet we raced down the halls, stairs and ladders till outside and they hurriedly began picking up small stones and pieces of concrete, and it struck me, I was outside, nothing was stopping me from running. For whatever the reason, when they pulled at me I went, and we raced back through the whole place till up on the roof and then we’d squeeze through this fence, crawl over some ladder, up on this roof and down to the next until we finally made it to near the edge.

    It took just a minute for a jet to come lumbering past so slow it made you wonder how it could even fly. With that, they all heaved a stone at it clearly some game they had all trying to hit the massive aluminum object floating by. I suppose (don’t know), that when the wind shifted it made the flight path just all that much closer to the building. You cannot even begin to imagine how close, yet close enough that you could feel the heat from the jet wash and smell the exhaust. Close enough that you actually could hit the jet with a stone, and sure enough a bunch poured into my hands I gave it a try.

    It makes me weep as I write this just how welcome and included most there made me feel the entire time I was there. Oddly, more people then you might think could speak English there. In fact they went out of their way to speak to me though all I could do was nod. It was as though it didn’t matter who you were, if life had brought you to Hak Nam, a true slum by any standard, you were meant to be there so made welcome. It was truly a community tighter then most I have ever seen. One that said screw the world, screw the government, screw typical society. This is our community, and as messed up as parts were, they made it work.

    As they laughed and talked about I suspect their hits and misses, unfortunately the day ended on a sour note which I imagine scared the three I was with. One of the boys had his arm draped over me like some old buddy talking away, and early in the day I had taken my flip flops off unable to keep up not even worrying about just how filthy and covered with trash and nasty funk the floors were. You have to understand, in Hak Nam there were pipes, wires and cables everywhere. Hanging here, drooping there, they literally looked like with each apartment built like they’d just run a new wire up and through to bring electricity and some plumbing to it.

    Probably because I was barefoot, yet at one point I brushed up against a wall down a very tight hall and got a very light shock most likely from some odd short. I know my eyes bugged and I instantly flung myself to the opposite wall where I was zapped as well. At that point reflex kicked in and I just dropped in the middle of the hall shaking and most likely looking terrified. I know what I was thinking, it reminded me of the cage back at the farm. Yet no matter how much they tried to explain it was alright just a few feet past, pulled and begged me, all I could do was kneel in the middle of the hall all curled up shaking like it was freezing out.

    How long I was there I don’t know, what I do recall was one of the boys came racing back toward me with a man in tow. Instantly the man asked me in English if I was hurt as I just stayed there shaking, and after being I suppose told by one of the others what my problem was, he licked his fingers and touched the wall. Without another word he scooped me up as I struggled, pulled me close and I can only guess as it was in Cantonese began to sooth me as he carried me the great distance back to the old woman.

    That’s actually how it was there. If you were there part of the community everyone took care of you. I can’t count the times after I’d be walking around clearly lost and someone would point me in a direction, or even lead me to a spot and point up some steps helping me find my way back to what I suppose was now my home. Having a tendency not to wear shoes, I couldn’t count the times some woman would scold me taking me into her apartment, bathing my feet and would make me put my shoes back on. A couple times I’d step on something, and I was walked one time and carried another to the tiny hospitals they had there.

    In kind, if not fifty times it wasn’t once I’d stand outside of some shop or factory and the person working there would coax me in, show me what they were doing, teach me how and let me work a bit. Every single time they would praise me. Praise my work yet give advice, then send me on my way, sometimes I’d see them add it to the bins of finished work, others they discreetly begin to redo it. Yet never was I scolded in that it was as though they were all saying, this is what I do, this is how I live, try it, here is how, and now you have that skill for the balance of your days.

    Everyday, whether with someone my age I’d run into, one of the what I can only suspect were whores like Cow, and most often by myself I’d wander around Hak Nam meeting the people and seeing what went on. Most of the experiences very good, the few bad dealt with swiftly.

    I recall one time one of the junkies or drunks cornered me and started railing on me in Cantonese. He had even begun to slap at my head, and in short order a couple of the residents pulled him off and pinned him, and actually held him berating him all the while. All until a couple younger men rushed up, telling me to go home and all I could catch from the yelling was they said "Fang" often. I had seen that junkie everyday just about, I never saw him again.

    So it also went for the one and only pervert I ran into there. An older man stinking of booze, cigarettes and sweat, he never said a word of English yet kept speaking to me in soothing tones though in Cantonese backing me into one of the billions of corners as the boy I was with kept screaming at him, and finally pinned me there. I guess I must have froze, yet soon enough he had my dress pulled up and was mauling me, and the next thing I know up raced the boy with the guy from the first day with the sunglasses. A lot of shouting, the young guy pistol whipped the old and shouted for us to go away. You could hear the shot echo down the halls, and from that moment on it was like it never happened.

    Another time it was some junkie whore that coaxed me into her apartment. She kept telling me how pretty I was, how much money I could make, then started making up my face and in burst a couple of the younger men once again. One bitching at me in Cantonese as the other tossed me out, and all I can guess is they tore the place up pretty bad and beat her thoroughly from the sounds that came out of there.

    The last of any note was I had stumbled across one of the strip bars. I know what I was thinking, "hey, I can do this!" As suddenly all the men started scolding me, yet I pressed on through to the stage and almost like clockwork all of the men in the place turned their backs to me and the place went silent. In a few minutes with me trying to talk to people the guy with the sunglasses came in grabbing me by the arm slapping me while pointing to the dancer with her back turned. He dragged me out of there bitching all the way, kicking me in my ass at the last to send me on my way.

    In any case I was also relatively well tended to. I recall one time specifically walking past what was clearly an apartment also being used as a beauty parlor of sorts. Instantly invited in the women there made a big fuss over trimming and buffing my nails, and after they had sent a boy I discovered later to ask Cow what was alright to do with me, they eventually cut my hair very short which I loved. When asked as to color shown a chart, I guess I did as I thought I was supposed to from my time in Olongapo, and picked the far extreme of blonde.

    The combination of shock and praise of those I saw regularly I have to admit was worth it. Another time taken by Cow I had my first visit ever with a dentist (and having seen them work on others I’m sure they were extra careful with me), and from it learned how to care for my teeth for the first time. All sorts of things, tiny stores and shops, really everyone there for the most part treated me well, or perhaps more so special no doubt to garner favor or at least not offend Fang.

    In kind, the prostitutes, junkies and drunks it seemed had also been warned. Most of them would go out of their way to turn me off to what they did though it had no real impact, and at the very least would close doors or turn their back on me in a sense not even letting me witness what they did. Smoking however didn’t take so well in that so many did it constantly. So I’d half ass smoke when I was offered one, though to be frank the Chinese cigarettes were so harsh you’d just puff a couple times and pass it on.

    Finally, while I was there a number of raids by what I suspect by Hong Kong police took place. I’d guess it hadn’t always been that way from how people would mention how they never used to come there, yet in the same breath you could see the pride somewhat in that to many they felt it was cleaning up their community. Frankly, and argue all you want, such places to a great degree are kept in control and kept from being rife with crime against the residents from the very criminal element that controls it all.

    To be sure that same controlling criminal element both abuses and oppresses those same people, yet with out their control every petty criminal is free to do as they may. Call it trading one master for another if you will, yet frankly the Hong Kong government had no stake in seeing the residents of Hak Nam do well, the Triads did, and even in my very short time there you could see swings as to petty criminals based on how recent a raid may have been.

    In any case, as typical during these raids people would often scatter and just get out of the way of what was going down. Though most were usually busy anyhow working away, those transporting goods, water, or just walking through the passageways would either turn the other way or rare times turn their backs facing the wall to let the cops pass. Typically I’d be dragged along, yet one time in particular I was caught out on my own, and oddly it served me well.

    Clearly white looking and now blonde I obviously stood out quite a bit. Oddly, and no doubt knowing why I was there the cops didn’t care as long as I’d get out of the way. This one time however found me freezing in my tracks as a number of police charged down the passage. To the left of me however trapped, were a couple of men I suspect were Triads both brandishing pistols and waiting to have it out. I remember clearly them looking at me fearing what I’d do, and their expressions alone telling me they were hiding. So, I did what I felt was the right thing feeling a part of the bigger community.

    Picking up a bottle off the ground I stepped forward and heaved it at the police. Instantly they started yelling at me to stop I suppose, and so I bolted down a passage that would turn them before they reached the men and past that just led them on a little chase in which living there definitely gave me the advantage. That single act would come back to serve me soon enough. How well is debatable, yet to this day I know I did the right thing.

    Those things and a few others spanned my time there so were not in order. In any case some of it being owned by Fang, others simply responsibility of adults in a community I was most definitely protected.

    Rather quickly as you might expect I had found my way outside of the walled city, and as you might suspect all thoughts of running had left my mind. So I’d wander around the perimeter, sometimes over to areas construction was being done yet usually just through the crowds, shops and nearby streets that surrounded Hak Nam. Never once was I told to go back in. As long as I seemed to want to be out there for the most part I was left alone. However, if I seemed lost like I was trying to find my way back inside, many times someone would lead me to an entrance or walk me through their shop and point the way back in.

    One of these times however I came upon a bar or restaurant perhaps that had a small crowd of men in it and being loud and laughing it naturally drew me to the door. Seeing me standing there one of the men all of a sudden seemed glad to see me, and I guess announcing my presence to all the others they all turned round and beckoned and called for me to come in. Once inside there was the man who wore the suit I had seen that day my jaw was fixed. Quickly I discovered it was Fang, and after some questions translated to me in English which had me just looking stunned for the most part and discussions by them in Cantonese, I finally discovered why I assume "Fang had saved me."

    Clearly boasting about me though I couldn’t understand what he was saying, all of a sudden he drew out his pistol which I remember very clearly, and as the men grew quiet and looked at me, he suddenly put it to my forehead. I had been so happy up till then. I remember how when he did it at first I was shocked, yet I also remember instantly how angry that made me, and know the pure rage in my face they had to have seen from their reactions.

    I still couldn’t speak, not even a whisper. Yet I recall trying to curse this man who in an instant reminded me of so much I wanted to forget and hated, and I began shoving the barrel with my forehead as I mouthed out my fury. In just a couple seconds I remember spitting at him and then head butted the tip of the barrel so hard it raised a lump. With that he pulled it away and gestured to me as though saying "see" to the others, and though I was still furious all of a sudden the men began patting me on the back and I guess praising me in Cantonese. Some acting all scared of me and then laughing, and even back then once they had ushered me out I guess I figured out why.

    Whether Fang had been the one raping me or just watching that last day in the Philippines, apparently my rage at the men there must have struck him. I don’t know whether he felt pity for me which I doubt, or was amused at my supposed fearlessness even though I really just wanted it all to end, but whatever it was it must have been that last moment. Even now from whatever take you may want to put as to why I see it for what it probably really was.

    He had no great plans for me, nor any respect. For all intents and purposes I was nothing more than a trained monkey that had a trick he liked. That proved itself out time and again, many times over the next few weeks Fang or some other would put a pistol to my head, I’d get all angry, and then they’d laugh and praise me. Three of these times though really stood out.

    The first found some of the younger men running into me in one of the lower passages one day. After a few comments one of them pulled his pistol and the monkey did her trick yet before he could pull the gun away himself another walked up and batted it away bitching at him. Just then I recognized that man as being one of the ones I had diverted the cops from that day, and after chewing on the others he took my hand and led me out through the back and into one of the street level restaurants there sitting me down.

    I don’t know what he told the owner, yet besides pointing out the mark behind my ear he just sat there and stared at me until they brought me more food then I had ever seen in my lifetime. It wasn’t garbage food either, it smelled and tasted like nothing I had ever had before, really a meal fit for a king. After he pressed me to dig in, he just watched for a bit then said in broken English, "you eat here now, when you want." Though I didn’t eat there but a few times more, every time I did they’d make me a nice table right out with everyone else, and then heap the table with more fresh prepared food than even an army could have eaten.

    The next event that really stood out found me wandering back to the bar I first encountered Fang, and though he wasn’t there I was brought in with much the same reception and as typical a pistol was drawn, put to my head and the monkey did her trick. This time however one of the men when congratulating me handed me a glass of some strong liquor and without thinking I just downed it. It burnt like liquid fire, more so, a spot in my throat felt like an open cut you poured alcohol on.

    It was like magic. I coughed and sputtered to everyone’s amusement, yet as I raised up I croaked out "it burns." They all burst into a cheer and laughter amazed I could finally speak, and though I resisted in short order they had poured enough of that stuff down me I was flat out smashed. However, though I still have a slight smoky rasp to my voice, from that day forward I could speak again (no doubt to everyone’s displeasure), in any case it made for quite a hit with everyone I had not spoken to around the city.

    The final time was the last time however for the monkey and her trick, and sadly my last day in Hak Nam. A different bar or restaurant found me wandering in as usual. Filthy and barefoot (as they could never keep shoes on me or me clean the place so filthy), wearing a dress and upon seeing Fang as one might suspect I instantly gravitated to him with the place oddly going more quiet then usual. After some discussion by the men, suddenly one of them drew his pistol as Fang and some much older men who were sitting watched and waited. As usual I’d get angry though at this point it was becoming more of an act and could now curse at the man verbally, and then it all changed.

    I remember grabbing the pistol and pulling it from the man’s hands (or more so he let me take it), and I suppose though don’t recall why I decided to give them a real show as I pointed the gun at my forehead and fumbled for the trigger with my thumbs. Instantly one of the old men stood up and slapped me so hard it flattened me to the floor. Yelling at all of the younger guys, he must have told one to take the pistol and another to yank me up as he began railing on me in Cantonese.

    Eventually he calmed himself enough that though he was still yelling at me, he began speaking in a broken pidgin as he twisted up my dress at the collar and wagged his finger in my face the whole time. Essentially what he said was (and I’ll try to write it the same), "you no do again, ever! You live, you make everything to live! You live long, and when you old, you kill all! You come back and kill all!" What he meant by that may have been different than my take. My take however boiled down to that no matter what it took, I was to do anything I had to, to survive, to survive long enough that I could come back and kill everyone that had done me any wrong.

    With that he said something to Fang, and all I can guess is he told him to get rid of me. By that evening I was being carted off somewhere just as surreal, and I would never see Hak Nam again.

    Hak Nam was a place that makes sci-fi movies and post apocalyptic films trying to mimic it seem light. It was like no where I have ever seen before or since, and there is no image or description I know of that really describes it well. What I can tell you however is, it was the most dense amount of people I’d encounter in my life. More so, it all worked, as makeshift as it might have been, the community truly was one, a vast one encompassing everything you might experience in this world all in one single place and then compacted down all together.

    It stank, was filthy, unbelievably crowded, and diverse. The people there treated me and each other like one giant family. If you lived there, you deserved to be there and no one would begrudge you that. I really can’t even begin to describe it without taking up volumes as every nook and cranny of it held something terrible yet something wonderful. I really was happy there though granted had an ignorant and immature understanding of it all, and sadly when I returned briefly to Hong Kong many years later it was gone just like most of Hong Kong I remember.

    To be sure, it was plowed under for very good reasons the place probably best left forgotten. Yet the people and the community should never be, as in my opinion it was the finest examples of people forming a world for themselves free from government restrictions and costs, relying upon themselves to make life their own. On the web one author uses perhaps the most accurate description of this bee hive of humanity that I have ever seen, "Harmonious Anarchy," say what you will about it yet there is one thing for certain.



    When given the chance to go back and "kill them all" that had done me wrong, Hak Nam would not have been one of the places I would have returned to. The fond memories of it or more the people carried me through some of my darkest hours to come.

    Hush....an alias for K2 เสือขาวเล็กน้อย
     
    1. TwoCards
      Wow...what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Maybe I should refer to you as Ox instead of Hush. Though that part of your life would make the faint of heart say "hush" when you relate it to them.
       
      TwoCards, Apr 9, 2017
    #16
  17. justpassingthru

    justpassingthru No Rest For The Wicked Banned!

    Joined:
    Jun 11, 2011
    Messages:
    34,439
    That is really an interesting story and just shook loose some memories of years ago in Columbia and their shanty towns. The despair was eye opening ... but the resilience of the people was even more amazing. I look back at the 60 Minutes story they did on us to be reminded of how good we have it ...

    Check out this "brilliant" solution to the problem ... someone in their infinite wisdom installed a 6 level escalator to "escape".

    [​IMG]

    The most trippy experience I had was still in Japan in a "Capsule/Pod Hotel".

    *not_secure_link*www.kcpwindowonjapan.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/capsule2.jpg
     
    #17
  18. shootersa

    shootersa Frisky Feline

    Joined:
    Dec 28, 2010
    Messages:
    86,608
    Incredible.
    This should be a movie, but no one would believe it.
    In America, all but a few of us have no clue ......
     
    1. msman
      I will admit I didn't have a clue.
       
      msman, Apr 10, 2017
      TwoCards likes this.
    #18