'Hong Kong Has Her Now'

 I am in China chasing a dream. The dream is to travel, instill the love of tennis in people, and spread love like bed bugs. But on a larger scale, my mission is to help people by using my gifts, talents, and knowledge. The time has come to expand said knowledge. Thus, I am in the midst of the dizzying process of applying to grad schools. In order to do this, one needs a GRE score. For the past few months I have been studying tirelessly, and the time finally came for me to go into the big city to take the test. The plan was to spend Saturday night in Hong Kong, take the test on Sunday morning, and then go exploring on Sunday afternoon and Monday. I booked a hostel room in advance for Saturday and Sunday night and told Howard only to worry if I wasn’t back by Monday night. After giving a Saturday afternoon lesson in Zhongshan, I packed a bag, changed clothes, and jumped into a car with one of the children I teach and her parents, who generously offered to take me to the ferry building. Conveniently, there is a ferry that runs directly from Zhongshan to Hong Kong. I bought my ticket, boarded the ship, and found my seat. For the next 90 minutes I watched the coast speed by as I wondered what the next few days would bring. I only knew that I was excited to speak English and eat food other than rice and vegetables. I was also excited to get to the hostel where a care package from my mom was waiting for me. All of this considered, I had a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach; I was nervous and excited.

When I arrived in Hong Kong I didn’t have time to take in the beautiful view of the skyline because my hostel room could be rented out to someone else if I didn’t check in by 8pm. We landed at 7:30pm. With no way of communicating my tardiness to the hostel, I hopped into a cab and took a very expensive ride across the bridge to the Lee Garden Guesthouse in Kowloon, a district of Hong Kong that lies across the bay from the main island. A rectangular blue and white sign pointed me in the right direction, off the bustling street, down a hall, and up eight floors to the hostel. I stepped out of the coffin-like elevator and found my way to reception. A short Chinese woman with painted-on eyebrows and a ‘fuck-off’ demeanor checked me in to the hostel. She spoke just enough English to tell me there would be a $20 ‘handling fee’ for the

‘luggage’ (package) my mom had sent. The crafty woman showed me to my room- a hole in the wall containing a bed, a TV, a phone, and a mirror. She showed me the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean. After getting settled in my room I went out to find food, soon finding myself wandering around Kowloon, looking up. There were bright lights, loud city sounds, and smells ranging from feces to warm cinnamon. And people. SO MANY PEOPLE. I walked into a raw-organic skin care store that made products of natural ingredients. Looking at the oatmeal masks and dragon fruit cleanser, I was only reminded of how hungry I was.  I must have looked like a fish out of water because a kind worker, Adam,

greeted me and asked where I am from. We were soon lost in conversation about the Southwest. Adam graduated from Arizona State University three years ago. I told him about my intention to take the GRE the next morning and apply to ASU for grad school. He mentioned how interested he was in the Navajo reservation and we marveled at each other once I told him that I’m half Navajo. The conversation was interrupted by my hunger pangs. Adam pointed me in the direction of vegetarian food. I followed his directions up an escalator to an alley of international restaurants. I walked up and down the busy ‘street’ exploring my options, trying to decide between Chinese, French, Italian, or Vietnamese cuisine. People dined at tables outside of each restaurant. My sights were set on a salad, so I found a table at an Italian deli that was showing Wimbledon highlights on the outdoor television. Perfect. The salad was everything I had hoped for and more. I paid my bill and tried to find my bearings to head back to the hostel. As I tried to remember where I came in from, I heard a table of three men whispering about me.

‘Say it…Say it! Say hello!’ I heard one of the men say, nudging his friend. Bull’s eye. As I approached their table, their eyes went down to their drinks. They knew they’d been busted.

‘Excuse me, can you tell me which way Chatham road is?’ I asked, smugly. I spent the next hour with Billy, Dion, and Tony, who were in Hong Kong on business. Dion hails from South Africa, but now lives in Australia with his family. He works as a designer for a very popular SUV company. Tony and Billy are native to Hong Kong. They have all been doing business together for years, and it showed in the conversation.  The trio twisted my arm into letting them buy me a glass of wine, and I laughed as they told hilariously embarrassing work stories about each other.  The men invited me out with them to experience Saturday night in Hong Kong, but I declined with the GRE on my mind. I thanked them for the wine and conversation. Dion walked me out and showed me where the MTR station was that I would take to my testing site in the morning. I found my way back to the hostel, satiated with a good meal and English conversation.

When I woke up early the next morning, I was ready. I was ready to rock the GRE. I was even more ready to get it out of the way and go exploring afterward. After successfully navigating my way around the MTR (subway) lines and directing another non-English speaking taxi driver, I found the testing center. It was a shabby building in a dingy part of town. For the next five hours, I was so focused on the test that I literally forgot that I was in China. I received my scored immediately; I did very well. Let’s gooooooo! Charged with excitement, I flew down the stairs to the bus stop. I somehow managed to get on the correct bus back toward the hostel and took a guess at which stop was mine. Amazingly, I guessed right.  I changed clothes and geared up for the day, planning first to go to Victoria’s Peak, the highest point in Hong Kong. I walked a few blocks to the pier, bought a token, and hopped on the Star Ferry from Kowloon to the main island. The salty air blew my hair back as I soaked in the beautiful skyline and people-watched. I noticed a ‘foreign’ man with a big camera and a kind face three rows up from where I sat. I wondered if he was American, but soon became distracted from my thoughts when we docked at the pier. By the time I got off the ferry, a long line had already formed at the M15 bus stop to Victoria Peak and the man with the camera was in it. I boarded the bus and went straight for the open-air seating on top. There were plenty of seats, as it was a HOT day and the Chinese people generally avoid the sun like the plague (tans are for the working class).  Once we started driving, the breeze was cool and welcomed. The M15 took us to the tram where there was yet another very long line. I think half of the population of China was waiting in this line. I quickly became lost while trying to find the end of it. Just then, I saw the man with the camera from the ferry looking just as lost as I was. I asked him if he knew the procedure. He didn’t, but we decided to be lost together. We finally found the end of the line and talked as we waited. Monty was visiting Hong Kong from Houston, where he works and lives with his wife. He had always wanted to travel to Asia, but didn’t want to go anywhere he needed a visa. We made small talk about the best places to visit in Hong Kong, rumors we’d heard about the city, and we commiserated about the heat. An hour later we finally got on the tram, which took us on a VERY steep ride to the top of the world. The view at the peak was incredible. We towered south of the main island, above even the tallest skyscrapers, and looked across the bay to Kowloon. As beautiful as it was, we were too hungry to soak it all in. Monty and I navigated through the dense crowd to a restaurant with a great view. We inhaled our meals the second the plates hit the table. After dinner we took a maze of escalators up to the viewing deck, a rooftop far above the hustle and bustle of the big city. Monty took pictures of the city light reflecting

off of low-hanging clouds that were hovering just above the skyscrapers. As I stood on the south rim of a man-made Grand Canyon, I was in the moment, trying with all my will to soak in every bit: the multi-colored lights beaming from the towers, the cool breeze coming up from the city, the reflection of the lights on the bay, the feeling of awe at the size of the city. The view was breathtaking. 

Monty and I stood in another line for a bus back down to the city, back down to Earth. The Star Ferry took us back to Kowloon to

change clothes and gear up for a night in the nightclub district that we had both heard was worth seeing. I was excited to see a new part of the city, and to wear ‘going out’ clothes for the first time in two months. We found the nightclub district- a street of bars and clubs and people- (again) lots of people. Monty bought the first round as we watched a Chinese emo band play Beatles songs at the Hard Rock Café. We hopped to a few different bars, but soon grew tired of the bar scene.

So we grabbed two Tsing Tao tall boys from 7/11 and a cab back to the Kowloon side of the bay. For three hours we sat by the ferry building and looked over the bay at the skyline. The view was so, so, so beautiful. Monty and I talked for hours about life. We chatted about politics, our families, and relationships. I tried to follow as he explained to me the history of the conflict between the Jews and the people of Palestine. I quizzed him about the ins and outs of married life and he painted a picture for me of the difficulties of marriage, and the deep love he has for his family and his wife. We talked about the importance of truth and how essential it is in the cultivation of relationships worth having….the creation of love stories worth telling. Monty and I were two like-minded people in very different places in life, brought together by a passion for travel and beautiful views. As we talked, we sipped warm beer and watched barges float by on their way out to sea. Just before the sun came up, Monty and I said good-bye; he had a flight to catch back to America, and I needed rest for another full day of exploring.

‘I’m very thankful I met you. Keep being awesome, Darrah.’ he said.

‘Well, I’m very thankful I met you, too. I will. You do the same.’ I retorted. With that, he gave me a warm hug and we went our separate ways, fully knowing that we might never see each other again. I have never had such a meaningful goodbye with someone I have known for just over 12 hours. That’s how life goes sometimes; you never know what’s coming for you. I got back to my hostel as the sun was coming up. The city had gone silent overnight, and was just starting to stir as I collapsed on my bed, tipsy from exhaustion, Tsing Tao, and good conversation. As I drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep, I recalled the words of Natalie, my college roommate, who had sent me a simple but fitting message earlier that day while I was on my way to the city:

‘Hong Kong has her now’.