Eight weeks ago I left the UK feeling upbeat
and confident about our move to Asia. I wasn't nervous, I was excited and
thought I was ready for it. As ready as I could be, when I had left half of the
contents of my flat strewed across the kitchen floor of my parent’s house
because I’d run out of time, and had only been able to fit a third of what I
thought I was going to be able to take with me into the oh so generous baggage
allowance of 37 kilos. Once I’d successfully avoided an emotional goodbye with
my parents at the airport, who after putting up with my moving and packing
drama the day before would've probably appreciated just a little demonstration
that I might miss them, we got through security in good time. However some time
later after casually wondering aimlessly around Heathrow Terminal Three (what
did we do for two hours?!) we found
ourselves running, sprinting to the
plane as the man at the empty gate wagged his finger at us and tapped his
watch. It wasn't the most organised or relaxing start to the adventure, but
those who know me will know all too well that ‘last’ and ‘minute’ are two words
that have been associated with me for as long as I can remember.
After an initial relaxing couple of days spent
being generously hosted by Ed’s boss and his family in Singapore, we arrived in
Hong Kong still a bit jaded from jet-lag and three days after the Occupy Movement
started. With the protest in full swing, getting a cab from the airport wasn't easy and once in the cab, getting to our hotel was even trickier because major
roads were completely blocked and resulted in the cab having to do a huge loop
around the city so we could be dropped at the door with our massive bags.
Turning up in Hong Kong at the beginning and most significant part of the
Occupy Movement definitely wasn’t ideal, not just because of the road blocks
and other inconveniences, but because Hong Kong wasn’t ‘normal’. Hong Kong is
crowded, noisy and hectic at the best of times, but the protest heightened all
of that and added another layer. From that first taxi ride in, to then trying
to navigate our way around this very different world, it made things much
harder. And it would’ve been hard enough! I am behind the students 100% and I
understand that there is an extremely important (though sadly impossible) fight
to be had, but on a purely selfish level luck was not on our side when our arrival
coincided with the Movement.
However even with that aside, our start in Hong
Kong was difficult. Neither of us had ever been here before and having left a
very comfortable and extremely nice life in Peckham behind, it suddenly dawned
on us that oh my God, this is it. I was completely unprepared for how it would
feel to turn up somewhere so completely different from the UK and London,
knowing that this was now my home.
Home is enormously important to me, it’s where I feel safe and happy and
comfortable and I couldn’t imagine ever feeling any of those things in this
strange, loud, crowed place. Nothing, apart from Ed being by my side, felt right,
which made me immediately homesick after being here for about 3 days. It was
odd because I hadn’t been away for any time at all so it wasn’t that I was
missing anyone or anything, I think it was just the realisation that I was very,
very far away and this was it, I was just going to have to get on with it
whether I liked it or not. Ed and I have talked about it a lot since and we
know that if we’d turned up in Hong Kong for a holiday we would have embraced
it immediately and been excited about how different it was, it was the bit
about it being our new home that made us shrink away feel sad.
But that didn’t stop us from giving it a go and
I can honestly say there wasn’t a moment during those first tough few weeks
that I contemplated going back to London, even though I desperately missed it.
I knew we’d be alright, I could see the potential, even though I couldn’t yet
feel it. So we did our best to do all the right things and kept going, despite
the fact that at every corner we turned we seemed be to be making mistake after
mistake (call it a series of fuck ups).
They say one should ‘always make new mistakes’,
I think it’s meant to be an encouraging and motivating statement. Well. I can
tell you that after 8 weeks of mistakes I am getting pretty fed up with making
new ones! Up until very recently, we’d get to the end of another weekend of
fuck ups and look at each other in mild despair, not needing to say what we
were both thinking, instead just quietly laughing, exhausted and emotional, about how
many more mistakes we’d added to our list. Whether it was wondering around the
busy, three lane and traffic dense roads, desperately trying to find our way to
the harbour, knowing it was just there but not being able to see it, only to
realise after nearly being taken out by various taxis and buses that everyone
else was happily on raised walkways, breezing their way over to the ferry
terminals in peace. Or walking up and down a road desperately trying to find a
café we’d read about, Google maps helpfully telling us we had reached our
destination but not being able to see where the God-damn thing was. Exasperated,
we’d eventually look up, discovering that everything is in a building, up high.
If you just take a step back you’ll see hundreds of businesses, whether cafes,
hairdressers, furniture shops, everything, they’re all there, but they’re UP.
These things may sound trivial, but add a load of jetlag, 34 degrees, 80%
humidity and two worried people desperately wanting to feel normal and you may
be able to picture us. It was a sorry sight!
Things are now finally feeling a lot more
normal, we making less mistakes and those we are still making feel like less of
a drama. Perhaps we’re just getting used to being a bit hopeless?! We have found
somewhere to live, so we’ll be moving out of our serviced apartment in a week
or so. I can’t wait to move and make our new flat a home. I felt immediate
relief when we found it and signed up. Guided by my new colleague, we found an
area that we love called Tai Hang, which is east of Central but just a few tube
stops away. It reminds us of ‘Bellenden village’ in Peckham so we felt right at
home when we turned up! It’s very unusual for Hong Kong island because it’s a
small grid of low rise streets, away from main roads and where amazing little
cafes, restaurants and bars have sprung up in the last couple of years. It’s
got a cool vibe and is a lot more peaceful than many of the other areas we’ve
come across, which suits us just fine! Our flat is lovely, it has high ceilings,
big windows and tonnes of space. We’re surprised we’ve found something as big
given that all anyone can say about Hong Kong is that everyone lives in shoeboxes,
but like London if you push out just a bit you can find little gems. Very
unusually for a flat in Hong Kong we have an oven, which makes me very happy
and I will be enticing people over for roast chicken as soon as we’re set up –
what better way to make friends!
So we’re doing ok. There is so much more to
tell you about but I will save some stories and experiences for other posts,
which I intend to write regularly now I’ve got going. As I’m writing this the
final sites of the Occupy Movement are being removed and the students are going
home. On a personal level I feel quite sad about it because for me they are a
part of Hong Kong, having been here since I arrived and their determination,
amazing spirit and peacefulness has contributed to me experiencing Hong Kong’s
soul. More about that next time…
