Our days in Hong Kong have been filled with smoky temples, markets streets, cramped shops and modern plazas. We eat poached lettuce, green and crunchy under oyster sauce. We ride double-decker trams that lurch along narrow streets. When we need to pee we opt for opulent. Mom always said “Find a posh hotel when you have to go”, the only travel advice she ever gave worth heeding. At the Park Lane Hotel there were attendants, wizened old things in white smocks who folded the ends of toilet paper into points, turned on faucets and placed towels out, all for small tips. I never feel comfortable with this servant side of countries. Awkwardly smiling thanks I left some coins and rushed out feeling ridiculous.The markets are the best: Hong Kong is a shopping mecca! Flashy department stores, little boutiques and handmade stalls stand side by side, so tightly packed one can only walk by in single file, but that at least affords an opportunity to see everything on both sides. The eggs are the most amazing. I have never seen so many varieties of eggs. There are tiny ones, others covered in black goop and semi-scraped over part of it to show charcoal grey, large ones with thick shells that look impregnable.
If you have a lot of eggs, it stands to reason you have a lot of birds. There are hundreds of multi-coloured songbirds in tiny bamboo cage in a special bird market. Elaborate cages too, beautifully carved even on the bottoms and with little porcelain pots for food and water. There were live grasshoppers for sale in plastic cases. I assumed they were meant as bird food, but some of them were larger than the birds!
At night the markets continue, sprawling over sidewalks full of people. Outdoor woks hiss as seafood morsels sizzle, served within minutes to those sitting on round wooden tables littered all over the street. T-shirts and jeans, watches and eyeglasses (who buys eyeglasses in the street I wondered?) toys, shoes, sex aids, jade and fortunetellers all available. Every once in a while we’d pass a place of such clanging and yelling - mah jong parlours, bright, full of smoke and noise as patrons slammed down their pieces on metal tables. Not the sedate parties my mother hosts.
What a wonderful place! I love this combination of east and west, rich and poor, day and night. My heart races and my eyes dart trying to see it all. If someone were to come by and offer me a job in Hong Kong I’d take it on the spot. I wonder what changes will take place in a few years when China takes it over again. Hamish likes it too. Once he got over the hurdle of dealing with a different language he was fine. Although he always starts talking in English first whenever we go into somewhere which drives me nuts.
“It’s not polite. You should try Chinese first. This is a foreign country.”
“Actually it’s considered British soil,” he says with an annoying smile.
“Oh that’s ridiculous, it’s not Britain.”
“Don't get your knickers in a twist. I feel so stupid saying something I know they can’t understand because I can’t get my tongue wrapped around the sounds.”
“It’s a courtesy.”
“But how courteous is it to mangle their language? It’s kind of obvious I’m not Chinese.”
“Can’t you just learn ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ then?”
“I will if you will.“
“What do you mean? I know how to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”
“Yeah but you never say it. You make me do all the talking.”
“Well, everyone just looks to you and talks to you as if I'm invisible because I'm a 'mere' woman.”
“Don't get your knickers in a twist. I feel so stupid saying something I know they can’t understand because I can’t get my tongue wrapped around the sounds.”
“It’s a courtesy.”
“But how courteous is it to mangle their language? It’s kind of obvious I’m not Chinese.”
“Can’t you just learn ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ then?”
“I will if you will.“
“What do you mean? I know how to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”
“Yeah but you never say it. You make me do all the talking.”
“Well, everyone just looks to you and talks to you as if I'm invisible because I'm a 'mere' woman.”
I'm partly right and he's partly right on this point. When I’m on my own I just get on with it because there’s no one else, but with him I guess I do lean on him. Is it because I finally have a travelling companion? Or is it because he’s a man? Or is it because my old shyness hasn’t really left, but just lays hidden until it has a chance to reveal itself? Am I still that pathetic?.
I’m feeling a bit at war with myself these days. Like there’s something wrong with me. Just when I think ‘Ok, this is really it, he’s the one, let’s stop this nonsense and embrace it’, I panic and think ‘run away, run away!’ Our lovemaking is passionate, sometimes desperate. I made the mistake of telling Mom this trip is to test Hamish, to see how he likes travel and if he could survive it. She looked at me like I was from Pluto. “What are you going to do to the man? Why can’t you just get married like other women who are over 30 and won't get many chances at that kind of happiness?” No one understands. I’m the only one who worries about putting out so much feeling to someone that might die on me.
I’m feeling a bit at war with myself these days. Like there’s something wrong with me. Just when I think ‘Ok, this is really it, he’s the one, let’s stop this nonsense and embrace it’, I panic and think ‘run away, run away!’ Our lovemaking is passionate, sometimes desperate. I made the mistake of telling Mom this trip is to test Hamish, to see how he likes travel and if he could survive it. She looked at me like I was from Pluto. “What are you going to do to the man? Why can’t you just get married like other women who are over 30 and won't get many chances at that kind of happiness?” No one understands. I’m the only one who worries about putting out so much feeling to someone that might die on me.
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