This is one of those very rare cases when the changes to the site formerly known (and forever will be known) as Twitter lead to something acceptable.

Over the weekend I saw one of my acquaintances - can't remember who - point out that we Filipinos like to go to countries where things just work. It was a retweet (it will forever be known as a retweet, Elon) actually: someone pointed out that a huge chunk of those visiting Taipei were Filipinos, and so this person I know inferred, people go there because things just work. Efficiency tourism, as they put it.

Well, sure. Never mind the fact that there are no visa barriers to flying to Taipei anymore - there used to be - and that tickets are cheap because it's pretty close. But yes, I've been there twice, and yes, things just seem to work there better than here in Manila. The traffic isn't bad, the trains are on time, and so on, and so forth.

By that metric, a lot of our neighboring cities would also fall into that category. Singapore in an obvious example, of course. I was reminded of it when I returned there last month and found myself trying to make sense of how efficient everything is. It's very likely I'm just used to the shambles that is Manila, where bus stops do not exist and where the few trains we have are always packed like sardines. (Or maybe that's a pre-pandemic vision. I don't really know. I haven't been on those trains in ages.) But if anything, that place works too well. You go from point A to point B and the next thing you know, you're there - but it's boring that way.

I know I've written about it before. Singapore can be really boring. It's sanded down to death and, as a result, it tries very hard to excite. I suppose it's why I liked Taipei more. It works, but there is still some grit to it: there are surprises to be had. By that metric, it's why I like Hong Kong the best, although it's partly down to the fact that I have been there with regularity for a few years. I'm only there for three days a year, but I've been there enough to be able to walk to places without getting lost... provided I'm only walking between Wan Chai and Causeway Bay. I mean, I have walked other places, but most of my trips are for business, and you can't really go that far.

I'm in the middle of one of those work trips. Yep, I'm writing this from Hong Kong - I haven't said that in four years. Things aren't exactly the same as before - for one, I am staying in a different hotel - but I find myself realizing that the landmarks I kept at the back of my head are still there. Oh, there's the restaurant I ate in at nine in the evening. Oh, there's the bar that loudly proclaims the presence of "Filipino girls". Oh, there's the tree that leads up to the Monocle store. Wait, that tree? Yes, that tree.

I found myself with a bit more time, so in the spirit of "might as well do it", I was following the suggestions of Dr. Kathleen Waller, writer and literature professor, who I met on Substack and whose suggestions I took to heart. Thankfully I didn't really have to venture too far. She mentioned a Coffee Academics branch along Johnston Road, which was near the Pawn, a local landmark that I have been walking past by for years without knowing it is culturally significant. (It's an old building, used to be a pawnshop, now a "tea house".) A good place to write, if it isn't full. I caught it not full, so I got what I thought was the best possible seat: by the front, looking out to the street, like a reverse carinderia where I am the customer and the folks on the sidewalk cannot do anything.

Yeah, it was a good place to write. If only I had something to write on. I only had a planner and it didn't have much space, so I ended up just listening to a draft playlist and feeling the songs hit harder than they should. I know I stacked the whole thing because they're my favorite songs of the year, but, still. Was it the view? I like city views. I like watching stuff happen on sidewalks. Was it the breeze? I was directly facing a street - Lun Fat Street, apparently - and so the wind was relatively unimpeded, more of a wind tunnel effect than usual. (And I would know. The surroundings of my usual hotel was very windy.) In any case, it was inspiring.

But then, I suppose I was on a high. This is Hong Kong, my favorite city. I haven't been here in five years. A change of environment is always bound to inspire you, especially after years of being stuck and locked down. And then there are my personal circumstances, but that's for a later essay, if I get around to it. And then I am here, in what some Western media outfits call one of the coolest coffee shops in the world. (There are branches in Manila, but they're in malls... and also, there was this thing about fake branches popping up, but maybe I was dreaming it, because I can't find it anywhere online anymore.) Why did I not bring my writing notebook?

And then I saw a guy take photographs of a car parked in front of me.

Turns out he's a traffic warden. Yep, the car is parked illegally, and he's most certainly getting a ticket. He was snapping photos of both license plates, all the whole keeping a slightly sour face. Was he annoyed? Did he just look like that? But more importantly, why is the car parked illegally there? He would know it's not allowed, right? Or was he taking his chances? Consider that this is Hong Kong, a place where everything works. You don't have to bring a car all the time because it's easy to get around. But then, this happens.

But then, I suppose that's the thrill, yeah? You can't imagine this happening in Singapore. I mean, I have seen locals there cross the road when the lights are red, and it's shocking. You see it in Hong Kong, and you just say it's something the locals do. And then you do it. I can't explain that, but there you go.

The warden then proceeds to another car parked along the road. A van, actually. I'm sure the driver was unloading something, because the back door was open. The audacity. But also, why? A few photographs were taken, and a ticket appears on the wiper. His face remains sour as he walks away.

A few minutes later, a third car tries to park between the two ticketed vehicles. Sir, those two cars have tickets! Do you really want to do this? Yes, but then, the driver doesn't leave the car, and he stays there for five minutes until a companion shows up and gets in. He got away with it, you could say.

Efficiency tourism. The thrill is both in knowing things work - and in seeing people bend the rules anyway. At least we don't feel that bad about ourselves and our overfamiliarity with where we come from and our tendency to just look at the bad, right? Right.