Chopstick Dreams and Bamboo thoughts

As I look out at the view in my new flat, I see that the smokiness of the smog gently blankets the craggy mountains and the buildings that hug them. A small ferryboat is puttering fast through the harbour followed by the froth of the white foam from the stern. 12:30pm says the alarm clock that is on top of the heap of books neatly stacked on a brown wicker storage box by my wall of a window. It’s Sunday afternoon in Hong Kong and I’m being lazy by reading my new book, Almost French and gazing out the window simultaneously after each page I turn. When I turn a new page eager to find out what will happen next, I contemplate how I will make my day. I can’t seem to put my book down because I’m so absorbed relating my personal experiences to that in the story. In my new book, the story chronicles the experiences and disturbances of living life abroad in a new country. For the author, her stories and memories are all about making a life in France. As I digest the book’s pages, one by one, I too have been thinking a lot about my life in Hong Kong and how much I am growing to love it. Like in the book, a new place has it’s faults and flaws. About four months it took me to adjust to new inconveniences and to a new life, one that I have grown to love.

Tearing through the streets of Kowloon city, ripping over the bumps and being sloshed from side to side in the back street of a city cab, I peered out the backseat window. When I was looking out admiring the city lights and swaying palm trees that were a bit of a blur, I experienced a moment of truth. Sopna, my new flatmate and I decided to go back to the old neighbourhood, Wan Chai for an afterwork drink at Mes Amis. Mes Amis holds a special place inside my head, as this was the first nightclub bar I went to in Hong Kong and had my first encounter dancing with a very handsome foreigner amongst the crowds in the bar last year. Walking down the streets in Wan Chai towards Mes Amis brought happiness and sadness at the same time. Happiness because I returned to what was familiar and exciting, but sadness because I was no longer part of the Hong Kong Island life. As much as I griped and complained about the crowds and smells of Wan Chai, I secretly wish I was living there again.A little over two months ago when I was flying back to Canada for summer holiday, I had written a blog that I was going to post about my anticipation on returning to Canada explaining my excitement to see my family and friends again. But, the further I read on in my new book, the desire to write about home and Canada quickly left. Rather, I decided to share about my new home and my newfound love of Hong Kong.

When I smell the air in some of the cleaner areas in the city, there is something distinct that I cannot describe. Walking through the courtyard area in my new building, I deeply inhale the salt-scented air that firmly brushes my face. I breathe even deeper to see if I can pick out the different smells that decorate the air, but I cannot piece together a recognizable smell. I cannot relate to the distinct odor in the air but I recognize this new smell when I travel to other parts of Hong Kong like Stanley or Discovery Bay. At times the smell reminds me of that of a rain shower; maybe it’s a mix if the salt water that hugs the island in combination of the winds that sweep over the lush and green carpeted mountains that surrounds this concrete jungle. What ever the components are that make up this new ‘perfume’, I love wearing it on my skin.

I have vivid memories of my feelings of anxiousness when I would wander the crowded streets of Hong Kong last year. Also, when I would get on the mini bus that would take me to school, I would try and block out my feelings of distress by listening to music on my ipod. The ipod contains everything from Andre Bocelli to Asian lounge music and I would constantly replay a particular song that would somehow lift my mood of sadness. This particular new music tune became my mantra to start the day and my haven for peace of mind. The song is called Samba De Mon Coeur Qui Bat by Coralie Clement and I would love how it made me face the city with such upbeat and positive notions. Back then; I did not believe that my feelings of darkness would ever transform into something really radiant. My attitude has matured causing my feelings to change into appreciation and admiration. The city has cast its spell on me like allowing me to emulate qualities like those of a distinct character in your favorite novel.

Although my newly discovered feelings of Hong Kong have captured me prisoner, at times I wish to break free by returning to my heart once resided; home in Nova Scotia. I love where I grew up and the people who surrounded me. My memories keep me happy and humble while I live this exciting life in this international city. Home is where the heart is but what I have come to learn now is that you can create the feeling of home anywhere. For me, the feeling of home is in your heart and not where you physically residing. In this part of the world, I learned how to create a sanctuary inside my mind when things got challenging and tough. Creating a mental sanctuary is never easy but I managed to do it by finding small things that brought me comfort and sanity within this busy city. I was able to do this by listening to my favorite music or songs, finding a favorite location to decompress like Starbucks on Leighton Rd. Crucial to any solo expat is finding that one friend that shares in your laughter and in your tears because they have gone through the experiences of living in a foreign place too. When you are able to talk to others who have endured similar experiences that you both have gone through it creates a special bond. This bond that I speak of is common between all those who have lived abroad and experienced all the turbulence that we go through when living in a new country. Well, it’s not all turbulences that we are able to relate; there are many passionate tales that get shared as well. Passionate tales, exotic experiences get deconstructed over drinks, dinner and gatherings. The best stories that I love to hear about are of those of discovering a new shopping spot while wandering in a new neighbourhood or when you meet some random people who are passing through Hong Kong. Also, you never know who you will meet while you are sitting at a sushi bar or enjoying a fruity cocktail at your favorite lounge in SoHo. What I have come to love the most, is hearing about the new, secret vacationing spot that is not known to many westerners; I chew over these stories laced with tastes and hold it in my head before swallowing slowly….I don’t want to loose the flavor that this story created.

Where ever you are, and who every you are with, all expats and foreigners share a common bond in making the most of his or her new home. For me, I find comfort and have sought shelter in knowing that a new adventure is always just around the corner. When I get lonley and it is from time to time, I remember that home is just a phone call a way.