IF eight is supposed to be such a lucky number here in Hong Kong, then why have we chosen it to represent what for many of us is a situation where our fortunes take a sudden turn for the worse? Even in the Philippines, where the most illogical things happen: women claiming they have given birth to a fish, men who con the world's press into believing they are pregnant, there is logic of sorts during the rainy season.
Radio weather bulletins are more often than not in tagalog, but at least the typhoon signals are simply 1, 2, and 3.
Eight I hate.
It always seems to go up when we all want it to stay down, and be lowered when we would all like it to stay up.
Those of us who live on the Outlying Islands are the most vulnerable. We pay heavily for our breath of fresh air, and last weekend was no exception.
No 8 got me for the first time 10 years ago. Up she went for the last typhoon which actually hit us, Ellen, and of course I was still at work.