Pigeons are tap-dancing on the air conditioner outside my window. It's a rare day of glorious sunshine outside. The milk has curdled at the bottom of my coffee. Why does this happen? It should still be fresh...
It feels like 10 years have passed since the end of April and beginning of June. I've made two returns "home" this time. Home to the SF-Bay area for my sister's MFA graduation show at Mills College and home to Hong Kong for a business pit stop for E.
May is a turning point for a lot of things -- three years since E swept me off my feet, one year since we departed Hong Kong (really, the beginning of The Trip for me), and the end of the new horizons portion of our global ramble.
All of this looping back put me in a mind to take stock.
I'm very literal, so...I put the names of the 21 places we've been on flash cards and forced myself to answer the question -- If I had to move there now for an unknown amount of time, where would I most prefer to go? Toward the top of my list were Auckland/Waiheke Island, Santiago, and Mexico City. At the very bottom was Koh Samui.
But I dunno, somehow the exercise seemed crazy and the places were all wrong. The specifics seemed meaningless, but the whys were interesting. Why would I rather live in St. Kilda than Hong Kong? The air! Why would I rather live in Maine than Oahu (can you believe it)? You could drive to NYC! Hmmm...
Intuition is my guide in all things, and I've known for a while that the *way* we're thinking about this search for home or homes is all wrong. Believe it or not, we've never actually written down all of the things we're looking for. So I did that. Between the two of us, we've tacitly been searching for this fantasy destination:
- Warm (60 F+) year round...and sunny!
- World-class visual arts, intellectual events, history
- People are sophisticated/cosmopolitan
- Socially progressive culture
- Public transit is a viable primary mode of transportation
- World-class food quality
- Cuisine diversity
- People are friendly to outsiders
- 1400 sq. ft. + of living space is affordable
- Eating out 1+ times/day is affordable
- Taxes are low
- Direct flights to a variety of useful places
- Walkable city/town
- Lots of open space
- Good running routes
- We can blend in
- Time zone overlaps with USA
- Service culture where customer is king
- People we like are there
- Not dangerous/on the brink of revolution
- Healthcare is good quality and affordable
- Language is learnable
It's funny, because when you're sitting down somewhere, feeling frustrated with the world for not being the way you want it to be (I remember sitting in my office in SF after week upon week of interminable rain...not unlike here in HK), you imagine that...given all the choice and freedom in the world...a much better place exists somewhere else.
The truth is that a different place exists somewhere else. But it's all reality. And, as you Buddhists out there already know, the hallmark of reality is its lack of perfection. Or lack of conformity to our ideas of perfection. I know all of this stuff in my head, intellectually, but didn't really realize the degree to which we were acting otherwise. And there's knowing in your head and knowing in your bones because you went there and tasted that particular flavor of unsatisfactory-ness for yourself.
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| Satisfaction with Life Index Map (Green=Most Happy...Red=Least Happy) |
How we all cope with varying degrees of satisfactoriness is what makes life interesting, what defines our characters in some senses. How does one cope with the fact that the place we're looking for doesn't exist? I made a list ;-)
- Get as much of each criteria as possible, settling for less of everything (e.g., so-so public transit, ok food quality, moderately interesting arts).
- Get the best of things that matter the most...and suck it up on others.
- Get the best of things that "feed" you...and travel for others.
- Get the best of things that make you comfortable...and travel for things that "feed" you.
- Be near people you like (or love)...and let the rest of the chips lie where they fall.
- Go where you can work...and let the rest of the chips lie where they fall.
What was interesting about this exercise...was that the pluses and minuses revealed the things we are most sensitive to. I am always aware of the abundance (or scarcity) of visual art, cultural diversity, aesthetics, and natural beauty. Meanwhile, E is highly attuned to the efficiency of systems, value for his dollar, and warm weather. From place to place, our descriptions always centered on these things.
The other perhaps blatantly obvious thing...was the reasons we've moved from place to place changed with each phase of our life. We needed different things at different times. Earlier in our lives we chose where to live based on work. As we got older, we chose where to live based on lifestyle. Then we focused on the people (or types of people) we wanted to be around.
Harvard and MIT have recently put more oomph behind their free online courses (have you heard about this?). The other night I was checking out a course called Adult Development with Harvard psychology professor Robert Keegan. The opening video showed a classroom filled with adults of various ages. Keegan divided them up by decade and asked two questions: What are the burning issues in your life now? And what would you ask the next generation, if you could? Watching the exercise, it became apparent that adulthood is as much of a developmental journey -- where we struggle, learn, and grow -- as is childhood.
So I think it's worth considering... Where are we on the arc? And where are we headed? What do we need now?
Arriving in Hong Kong this time, I immediately felt that I'd turned a corner.
When we left last June, I was in a state of intense aggravation. Acute, deeply settled culture shock. Those of you who judge me for my graceless adaptation to HK culture really have no idea. One's brain is no defense whatsoever against the constant jarring of unconscious expectations with an incongruous reality.
Before I left Hong Kong, I was still incredulous that my interest in Chinese culture was so unwelcome. I'd only ever traveled in countries where people welcome outsiders' interest in their language, history, and customs. In HK, I was expected not to be ignorant of these things, but also not too interested either. I tried to overcome culture shock by immersing myself in the parts of Chinese culture that fascinated me, in particular Chinese food. Ironically, this was crossing a kind of cultural boundary I wasn't supposed to cross. The worst thing I ever did was reveal that I knew something about Chinese gastronomy a friend of mine who is of Chinese descent did not (oof, haven't heard from them in a while).
Coming back to HK this time, I laid off the cultural inquisitiveness. I know more about Chinese food than a gweilo needs to (I've got a permanent texture fixation and a passion for things like chicken kidneys...pictured above at a favorite little Sichuan joint Yu). So I'm just going to eat what looks good and stop trying to teach myself things. (Although I'm kind of curious how caloric tendon is versus plain old fat...)
I've also finally learned to recognize the terror in people's eyes when they can't speak English well and are afraid I'm going to make them lose face by saying a bunch of things they're not prepared for. Why no one thinks I should be embarrassed not to speak Putonghua or Cantonese is beyond me...perhaps they think I'm too stupid?
Anyway...
I had zero problems making restaurant reservations this time because I know the script. It goes something like this...
Reservationist: 你好，我是雪的花園餐廳。我可以幫你嗎？
Me: Nei ho -- is this Snow Garden Restaurant?
Reservationist: (pause, restaurant noise)
English-speaking reservationist: Hello?
Me: Reservation?
Reservationist: Reservation?
Me: Yes.
Reservationist: What day?
Me: Tomorrow.
Reservationist: Tomorrow?
Me: Yes.
...
Until finally...
Me: Ok, thank you.
Reservationist: Buh-byee (said with an un-nerving nasal tone that used to freak me out)
Me: Buh-byee (with same nasal sound)
At the end of the interaction, I like to think that we both feel good. I got a reservation and they looked like they spoke English perfectly. All that it f-- took was for me to get with the program!
The other thing I finally realized on this trip was how well people in Hong Kong can read me. HK is poker face central. On the street it sometimes feels like you're at a masked ball, people hold their faces so still. Perhaps because people keep it so cool, the slightest nuances of emotion on one's face make an impression. I particularly noticed how, when I was in a crabby mood, no one in a Chinese bakery would help me. Flat out ignored me. When I was in a sunny mood, no problem.
This is really an awkward situation to be in because if someone would just reach into the counter and give me one of those delicious wife cakes, the clouds would part and there'd be sunshine all day. My favoritest wife cake on this trip was from Tai Cheong Bakery (for the outrageously inflated price of 7 HKD). Toothy lard pastry, dense, sugary winter melon, satisfying hockey puck shape.
Perfect!
Well, anyway, so HK and I tolerated one another much better this trip. It certainly helped that we were welcomed to town with a homemade meal at my friend D--'s house and had a chance to meet her sister, who was winding up a trip through mainland China.
In the year we've been gone, it seems like many of the people who arrived at the same time (like D) have figured things out. For example, our meal started with some lovely cheeses and real, chewy baguettes which D gets from Monsier CHATTÉ (I never knew where to get real baguettes in HK).
Next was a refreshing gazpacho...
An elegant zucchini terrine...
A simple and delicious chicken...
And a homemade apple tart. Hooray!
Thank you again, D, for this lovely meal!
Speaking of welcomes, the very first thing I put in my mouth upon arrival in Hong Kong was a Din Tai Fung dumpling ;-)
E and I sometimes wonder if we're really city people. "Why is it that we need to live in a city?" E asks me. Din Tai Fung, that's why! Because I am now a crazy dumpling snob and any dumpling skin that doesn't look as beautiful as the one above -- or feel as fantastic between my teeth -- is just...depressing. Maybe we should only live in cities where there are Din Tai Fungs?
I'm embarrassed to say we ate at DTF easily 8 or 10 times this trip. I kept telling E, "This is the last time..." but then I'd discover something new in some little undiscovered corner of their menu, like their double-boiled chicken soup.
So, so wonderful! What a surprise. Just the perfect balance of salty-savory-tangy-gingery. I really think that's one of the best chicken soups I've ever had. Even with all of those gnarly looking pieces of meat, E concurred. (The gnarly meat was delicious too!)
Another knock-my-socks-off food experience from this trip didn't even involve my mouth. It was the aroma of cumin, Sichuan pepper, and coriander rising like a strong breeze from this gorgeous stir-fy at 渝川菜館 (no English name, as far as we could tell).
The chef there was completely rockin' it. These Sichuan noodles were absolutely the perfect toothy texture, and the zingy sauce and goodies were perfectly distributed throughout, with an unexpected bed of crunchy bean sprouts at the bottom.
I would also say that their dry-fried beans were the best I've ever eaten. Aromatic, toasty, fragrant, fabulous!
Other yumminess from this trip...
Cha siu at West Villa Restaurant (Do you find this photo sexy? Maybe it's just me...)
Chicken with pine nuts in lettuce cups at Loshan Snow Garden Restaurant (beautifully executed!)
A visually pleasing and delicious pork and black bean dish at Farm House
Pan-fried buns at Shanghai Min (juicy and delicious)
Luscious braised shitaki mushrooms and bamboo shoots (in season) at Spring Deer
And an excellent stir-fry with satisfying wok-y flavor and perfectly sliced ingredients at Hong Zhou (they know how to cook at that place)
Then there were the beautiful golden egg custard buns sitting on little lavender doilies at Sun Tung Lok. I just love the (intentional) graininess of the rich, molten custard...yum, yum, yum.
But why can I still not eat like a civilized person with chopsticks? Do you see all of the custard dripping off my spoon? So embarrassing... Maybe it's karma for giggling at the Hong Kongers gracefully disassembling their giant hamburgers at Burgeroom and eating them off toothpicks in dainty bites.
We macho Americans ate our (chicken) burgers uncut, using nothing but our hands. Grrr!
Man, I love Chinese food so much. But really, only in Hong Kong. Or only in China. It's just not the same anywhere else.
So this was a turning of a leaf. A getting older. A getting over. A relaxing about Hong Kong being Hong Kong. And I could almost relax about returning again, except that the apartment situation is brutal. The place we stayed this trip was...I've decided to start giving the places we stay names...this one shall be christened The Hovel. And because it really was "a small, miserable dwelling," I was always out, on foot, walk, walk, walking all over the SAR, searching fruitlessly for a little corner of earth to be by myself and think for five minutes...
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