I started today slowly and again with French cheese
pastries at Delifrance. It seems
to me that though my life at times appears exotic to people who do not really know it, that I have been jumping through the
same hoops for some time.
I have travelled a lot in South China, and have
also spent one month in India, and that is it for the past 20 years. What is exotic and unexpected is the density and
warmth of my personal friendships in those countries, and how I have lived in real homes with real local people,
seeing much into everyday day that eludes professional journalists and travel writers.
I am stuck in that I cannot develop another life
of professional work other than ESL teacher, in spite of the hundreds of thousands of visitors to my many websites.
That is really because I spent five years in Mainland
China, and then a rather dismal past year back in the nature wonderland of Beautiful British Columbia, attending to various
chores.
I want truly to see something wild around Hong
Kong other than the shopping crowds of TST. However, Joe thinks our luggage is too cumbersome to schlop arouond New Territories youth hostels, and that we should
stay put in Kowloon until we find housing.
***
I discovered something that excited me today, and
that is the Flower Area of Hong Kong. This was by accident as I went to discuss with a primary school around Prince
Edward Station writing curriculum.
First I was happy to see one, then two, then three
florists. After about ten or fifteen all in a row I got the point with no language skills, that this must surely be
where all the upscale hotels and restaurants come to purchase floral displays every morning.
Returning from the school I was further elated
to discover that these stores sell all manners of garden seeds, including seeds I have never seen in England or Canada - papaya
seeds! watermelon seeds! mango seeds!
The possibilities of growing my own stunning Asian
garden of fruits that would cost as much as sirlion steak back home really brightened my day, as did the tropical downpour
of rain soaking through all my voile Indian print skirts, and driving me into the nearest Chinese cafe.
The regulars seemed to be mostly workmen who eyed
me like a large white object that had suddenly fallen from the ceiling into their chatty lunch hour.
This being Hong Kong, the waitress-owner thoughtfully
brought me an English menu, with the usual hybrid mix of British-Chinese dishes, such as Horlicks, cocoa, oatmeal, French
toast, pigs' knuckles, and braised duck.
I selected a hot bowl of oatmeal, delicious with
tinned milk floating on it, and doused it with white granulated sugar. A great Hong Kong coffee with tinned milk as
well washed down the already wet oatmeal, as I removed my damp skirts stuck to my leg, and rolled them to my knee. The water is nothing compared with the luxury of being able to breathe
reallly fresh air.
Later on in the day I began to tired of all the
job interviews, and went to the computer library to work on my web sites.
Joe joined me and discussed his computer job interviews.
Then I took a call in the fax room from a Canadian
who is running a small educational project here, with his own Chinese mate. He twigged right away that I had a Chinese mate too.
Does your Chinese mate talk to his relatives
daily?
Yes! They want to know if he is okay on an
hourly basis!
Joe was beside me and smiled sheepishly, knowing
this to be almost the truth about the concern
of Chinese Relatives.
My relatives are in touch with a few times
a year! continued the Canadian schoolmaster, And hers seem to be on the phone every second day.
Joe's parents send him three or four emails,
I continued, Every two or three days!
Joe tried to be manly and brave when I finished
on the phone.
It isn't quite that bad, he said.
Yes, it is, I couldn't bring myself
to tell your mother you lost your suitcase at the airport, or that you were sick in bed for two days with an airplane cold.
At night, we went again to Cafe de Coral for dinner,
and again, I had seafood pasta with Hong Kong coffee. I had wanted to take Joe to see the movie The Island very badly; however, it had left the Silvercord
and run off to another neighbourhood.
We watched the movie Mickey Blue Eyes on television
which was better than I expected though I expect not much from local television.
It followed an exciting show called Top 50
Cars which caused me and Joe to make a lot of jokes about British television. They talk about cars like they were
film stars, I noted, as the hosts talked with animation about the Honda Civic.
It is not as violent as North American TV,
I said hopefully.
It looks as though a lot of British guys and
their girlfriends got together with home video cameras, and said, Let's do Hong Kong television!
Only four channels here! said Joe, amazed
by that, two in Cantonese, and two in English.
And all the money here! I said, wondering
about civic pride in television.
And so another day in the glamourous metropolis.
