Sitting here on the 25th floor. I look outside and see the bright lights sparkling like diamonds in a man-made jungle. It remains, to me, breathtakingly beautiful. Hong Kong stole a part of my heart the first time I took the train from the airport to Central over 18 months ago, watching the blood red sun set through the building works and the bamboo scaffolding. This time, the fourth time I have been here, Hong Kong has now permanently been awarded residence in whatever it is that makes up my soul.
Three months has passed so quickly. Every moment has been precious to me. There have been some difficult times for me here and there have been magical, happy, wonderful moments too. I have laughed, cried and loved.
I have met people here who have planted themselves in my heart and taken root. Each of these beautiful people has taken a tiny space that they have made their own with their warmth, kindness and love towards me since I arrived. I feel so lucky and so honoured to have been given so many gifts in such a short space of time - I wonder what I have done to deserve such quantities of love in my life.
I know I sound soppy, but I leave tomorrow. This is my last night and I am sad. My heart is crying a little and it has been a long time since I have felt this sad at the thought of leaving somewhere - perhaps not since I was a child leaving Croatia at the end of summer, when one year was eternity.
It has been an emotional last day for me. It started with a traumatic episode on the beach where I modelled men's football boxer shorts on a beach with some other guys - I'm really not cut out in any way, shape or form to undertake such a challenge - better behind a camera I think! Then I swam in the sea, aware it would be my last swim in Hong Kong waters for a long while. I like to think I'll miss the floating dead fish, but I won't. May they rest in peace, bobbing gently on the water for all eternity. We ate french fries and drank margaritas. We came home for a civilised dinner party of way too much food and wine. Then my delightful housemate brought out his box of toys - yes, he had a pump and balloons - we made ridiculous items - dogs, octupuses (octopi?), flowers, hats, hand-cuffs, shackles, jewellery, mobile phones - whatever you can think of. Clearly, after the children went, these items became a bit more 'creative'. It was a good ending of laughter.
So tomorrow is the day I leave and I wanted to say thank you to those of you that made my time here so special. Thank you for your love and your friendship. I hope I see you again. With love. XX
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
Sunday 23 May 2010
Saturday 22 May 2010
Taking off old clothes
I've been remiss in my updates, I know. I've been too busy having fun.
He came and we had a wonderful holiday. It's funny how many small things you can forget about someone. Small things that sear through you like a flash of bright light and infuse you with pleasure. Small things that make the corners of your mouth turn up gently. Small things that make you want to chew your own arm off, but in a really nice way!!
We hiked, we ate, we swam, we climbed, we shopped, we slept, we went to the cinema, we enjoyed the company of old and new friends, we sought out air conditioning (possibly for the first time in my life). We holidayed and relaxed. It was wonderful.
When he left, I did not cry or feel sad, because I knew it would only be a week before I saw him again, but the flat did feel empty and I was struck with how I was ready to come home.
I have spent the last few days, since he left, finding a smile on my face at a memory. I find myself, when in the present moment, looking at everything so carefully, trying to absorb every moment, every smell, every colour, in the hope I might preserve them in my memory. Still, I know, they will fade, as the glory of colonial Hong Kong fades each year, as the concrete crumbles and the paint becomes invisible.
I have found Hong Kong to be an oddly magnetic place, with something brewing under the surface, like a monster beneath the waves. I don't know what this monster is, but it is powerful. I don't even know if it is bad or good, just that it has not harmed me. I have loved being here. I have breathed in beauty every day. I have felt intensely and lived each moment. This has been a real gift for me and I have appreciated everything that came with it - fun, happy, hard or sad.
I have just a few days left now, to spend with people who's company I have enjoyed, on occasion, and then it is time to return. Guess what? I'm REALLY excited to go home. See you soon!!! :-) xx
He came and we had a wonderful holiday. It's funny how many small things you can forget about someone. Small things that sear through you like a flash of bright light and infuse you with pleasure. Small things that make the corners of your mouth turn up gently. Small things that make you want to chew your own arm off, but in a really nice way!!
We hiked, we ate, we swam, we climbed, we shopped, we slept, we went to the cinema, we enjoyed the company of old and new friends, we sought out air conditioning (possibly for the first time in my life). We holidayed and relaxed. It was wonderful.
When he left, I did not cry or feel sad, because I knew it would only be a week before I saw him again, but the flat did feel empty and I was struck with how I was ready to come home.
I have spent the last few days, since he left, finding a smile on my face at a memory. I find myself, when in the present moment, looking at everything so carefully, trying to absorb every moment, every smell, every colour, in the hope I might preserve them in my memory. Still, I know, they will fade, as the glory of colonial Hong Kong fades each year, as the concrete crumbles and the paint becomes invisible.
I have found Hong Kong to be an oddly magnetic place, with something brewing under the surface, like a monster beneath the waves. I don't know what this monster is, but it is powerful. I don't even know if it is bad or good, just that it has not harmed me. I have loved being here. I have breathed in beauty every day. I have felt intensely and lived each moment. This has been a real gift for me and I have appreciated everything that came with it - fun, happy, hard or sad.
I have just a few days left now, to spend with people who's company I have enjoyed, on occasion, and then it is time to return. Guess what? I'm REALLY excited to go home. See you soon!!! :-) xx
Saturday 8 May 2010
Hong Kong holiday
My Hong Kong holiday started yesterday. I rode the trams, went for a dim sum lunch in Quarry Bay and spent a good few hours sitting absently in an exhibition, listening, watching, feeling and taking photos.
In the evening, I went out for drinks with my delightful housemate and his girlfriend and parents - from Padova - and I was reminded of my own family in Padova and Zagreb. Last night, as with my own family, so frequently there are multiple languages being spoken and half the conversation is translation rather than new material. It makes me happy. Communication takes on a whole new meaning.
Today he arrives and I shall not work for a whole 10 days. The sky is a quilt of sheep, with the odd flash of sunshine, but it is warm and dry and I am happy.
In the evening, I went out for drinks with my delightful housemate and his girlfriend and parents - from Padova - and I was reminded of my own family in Padova and Zagreb. Last night, as with my own family, so frequently there are multiple languages being spoken and half the conversation is translation rather than new material. It makes me happy. Communication takes on a whole new meaning.
Today he arrives and I shall not work for a whole 10 days. The sky is a quilt of sheep, with the odd flash of sunshine, but it is warm and dry and I am happy.
Friday 7 May 2010
Dougal and the Blue Cat
It has been incredibly oppressive here the last few days, the air hot and damp, the skies feeling ready to burst. I couldn't sleep last night for hours - I thought perhaps excitement at my visit tomorrow, which maybe in part it was also, but I know now, it would have been mainly the coming storm.
I used to get this as a little girl - my mind would become wired until the storm broke, my energy levels erratic, swinging from listless to high, sometimes also bringing headaches or nosebleeds. At 2.30am I woke to flashing in my room. No sound, just bright white flashes lighting the sky. Hours later, I heard the first sounds of heavy drops, pregnant with the promise of fresh air, hitting the aircon unit outside, like raindrops on a corrugated tin roof. Around 5am, my world began to rumble. Hours and hours of breaking through the oppressive barrier that had built up over the last few days. My head now feels clear and I can breathe more easily. Clarity is a wonderful thing.
"Thunder and lightening, thunder and lightening, thunder and lightening." I can still hear the voice now - was it the blue Cat, I wonder? I think it was a female voice, either a Lancashire or Yorkshire accent, this is how the record always ended. It was only years later that I found out the record always got stuck here. I don't think I ever knew what came afterwards.
I used to get this as a little girl - my mind would become wired until the storm broke, my energy levels erratic, swinging from listless to high, sometimes also bringing headaches or nosebleeds. At 2.30am I woke to flashing in my room. No sound, just bright white flashes lighting the sky. Hours later, I heard the first sounds of heavy drops, pregnant with the promise of fresh air, hitting the aircon unit outside, like raindrops on a corrugated tin roof. Around 5am, my world began to rumble. Hours and hours of breaking through the oppressive barrier that had built up over the last few days. My head now feels clear and I can breathe more easily. Clarity is a wonderful thing.
"Thunder and lightening, thunder and lightening, thunder and lightening." I can still hear the voice now - was it the blue Cat, I wonder? I think it was a female voice, either a Lancashire or Yorkshire accent, this is how the record always ended. It was only years later that I found out the record always got stuck here. I don't think I ever knew what came afterwards.
Tuesday 4 May 2010
My first tram
I went on a tram yesterday.
I got a bit confused and sat on it too long, granted, and had to walk a long way back, but it was great. Tall, double-decker, long, thin wooden contraptions, with stairs to get on at the back and stairs to get off at the front. Woe betide if you get on or off the wrong way! Windows on both sides slide down fully, like those in car doors, when you need some wonderful fresh polluted air from the roadside.
My joint favourite way to travel, along with the ferries. And I'm pretty sure it was less than 20p!
I am still enjoying being here, wonderfully so, but I am aware that it is ending soon. I am starting to look at things in a different light. Kind of saying goodbye now, I guess. I have started breathing in the view again, every night, sitting outside in the evening watching the sun go down and trying to memorise the kaleidoscope of coloured lights that make up Hong Kong at night. I've got a gazillion and one photos of that view and perhaps I'll make a canvas of it, but I don't imagine it will be the same as seeing it in front of me.
I am sitting inside, typing. I can hear the clock tick-tocking and Mr Gecko or Mrs Gecko - his-her gender changes daily in my mind - is clicking away somewhere. I think she went outside last night. There was gecko-poo on the floor and her call is quieter than usual. Goodness, maybe she's stuck outside. I wonder if I should leave the door open to let her in. I don't like the thought of her being locked out all night.
Time for bed. That's it. I'm tired.
And. I just realised that she is always a she and her name is Mr Gecko. Mr Gecko is a she. Why not?
I got a bit confused and sat on it too long, granted, and had to walk a long way back, but it was great. Tall, double-decker, long, thin wooden contraptions, with stairs to get on at the back and stairs to get off at the front. Woe betide if you get on or off the wrong way! Windows on both sides slide down fully, like those in car doors, when you need some wonderful fresh polluted air from the roadside.
My joint favourite way to travel, along with the ferries. And I'm pretty sure it was less than 20p!
I am still enjoying being here, wonderfully so, but I am aware that it is ending soon. I am starting to look at things in a different light. Kind of saying goodbye now, I guess. I have started breathing in the view again, every night, sitting outside in the evening watching the sun go down and trying to memorise the kaleidoscope of coloured lights that make up Hong Kong at night. I've got a gazillion and one photos of that view and perhaps I'll make a canvas of it, but I don't imagine it will be the same as seeing it in front of me.
I am sitting inside, typing. I can hear the clock tick-tocking and Mr Gecko or Mrs Gecko - his-her gender changes daily in my mind - is clicking away somewhere. I think she went outside last night. There was gecko-poo on the floor and her call is quieter than usual. Goodness, maybe she's stuck outside. I wonder if I should leave the door open to let her in. I don't like the thought of her being locked out all night.
Time for bed. That's it. I'm tired.
And. I just realised that she is always a she and her name is Mr Gecko. Mr Gecko is a she. Why not?