Tis The Season?

My calendar is telling me it's Christmas time.  And whenever I watch American television on the Slingbox I'm seeing commercials for gingerbread pancakes at iHop, listening to WalMart and Kmart spar about who has the best lay-away program and oh look, Kohl's is having the biggest sale of the season. (Isn't Kohl's always having the biggest sale of the season? )

And around here it seems like Christmas.  We've had our fake tree up and decorated since Thanksgiving weekend.  There's a smattering of random Christmas cards displayed about the apartment.  Downtown I've seen icicle lights dangling from buildings and racks of felt Santa hats for sale over in Central.  Heck, I even hear Christmas carols every time I step out of the elevator into the lobby of our building.  And check out this gingerbread house we happened upon at The Peninsula Hotel over in Kowloon.

The malls all have elaborate decorations to mark the season.  See Reagan in front of a big tree at Pacific Place mall?

Of course both kids have had their share of school holiday crafts, concerts, assemblies and chapels. Tripper sang about Santa Clause coming to town and wanting some teeth at his pre-school concert on the beach. Check out his Mr. Clause hat.

And The Lily even had a really nice tree lightening event complete with the jolly old elf himself. That's where we snapped this little Tomczak family picture.

But even as we are going through the motions of Christmas, it's just that, going through the motions. There is something missing and I've spent some time trying to figure out what. What is it? Why is this Christmas just not seeming like Christmas? And it all comes down to this.

You know all the crap that you are complaining about right now? The long shopping list and short time frame, the heavy traffic, the weather that's too cold, the weather that's too warm, the over-priced ham, the Christmas cards that haven't been addressed yet, the Christmas cookies you burned, the teacher's gift you forgot to send to school, the holiday carols that have been on the radio since Thanksgiving, the poinsettia that died too soon, the scrawny trees at the corner lot, the hustle, the bustle, the holidays? That is what is missing. All that crap, all that stuff that is so tedious, so stressful, so annoying. I miss it all. Why? Because in all the activity there is unity. During the holidays we are all doing the same things, all reaching for the same end goal. And as my friend Margaret wisely pointed out, we feed off each other during the holidays. There is unity.

And here, try as they might to make the holidays something special, sometimes it just seems like an empty Christmas package, all tied up with pretty bows, but nothing really inside. No togetherness. No unity. There is just so much going on, some many people, doing so many different things that the spirit of Christmas gets bogged down. It gets lost.

So, as you go about these final days before the 25th and busy yourself with all those holiday tasks you hate, think about it. If you didn't have all that, you wouldn't have the same kind of holiday. Last year I was doing the same, cursing every chore, every tradition, every task on my list. This year, I'm wishing it all back.  

Merry Christmas, everyone!  And it will still be merry here, but merrier still in a few more years.

Crafters Paradise

I went to Sham Shui Po today.  It's across the harbor, in an area of Kowloon.  Blocks and blocks where you creative types can buy glitter by the pound, beads by the shovelful, ribbons by the roll. 

And though I'm not so crafty, it tickled me to see the colors of the rainbow bottled in jars,

And brimming in baskets

Fluffy pom-poms, every size, every color, bagged like cotton candy

Ribbons, ribbons, and more ribbons

and chains and cords and ropes.

Fringes of feathers

and strands of baubles and beads.

Makes me wish I had just a tad bit of creativity in me, but just looking at it all makes me smile. 

Things like this, this is what I love about Hong Kong.

Here or There, Always Thankful

No, the locals really don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Asia.  Why would they?  Their history has no pilgrims, no native Americans, no learning to harvest corn, no Plymouth rock and all that.  But there are Americans in Asia and they DO celebrate Thanksgiving.  So even though the kids had school, we still feasted at dinnertime.

Since our oven is super small (I can't even fit a regular cookie sheet in it), there was no way we could roast a decent sized turkey.  So, we ordered one, already cooked for us, hot and ready to eat upon pick-up.  When we unwrapped the foil, it looked like this.

And it is true that this ready-made bird cost over $100 US, but hey come on, it did come with stuffing, gravy and runny cranberry sauce too. 

Since the kids still had school, after school activities were on as well. So while I was escorting little Miss Reagan to gymnastics, my husband was playing master chef back home. 

Can you see our tiny oven in the background?  It's the same size as the microwave above it.

Props to Geno for whipping up a sweet potato casserole and handling the mashed taters.  We also had rolls and corn.  And yes, for dessert homemade pumpkin and apple pie.

When the table was set, it looked like this.  Can you see Reagan's turkey napkin holders she made in Girl Scouts?

 And during dinner we all looked a little something like this.

And Bella even enjoyed our American holiday.  Turns out, she's a big fan of turkey.

True, this Thanksgiving was unlike any other we've ever had, but it was still a day to give thanks.  Because even with the ups the downs, the good and bad, the ease and the challenges, it's a good life... a really great life!  We are truly blessed.  Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Sunday Sampan

Today we took the kids for a ride on a sampan.

Here's a sampan.

 Here's our driver.

And here's the view.

The sampan motors around the old Aberdeen fishing village.

 

They say in 10 years this fishing village will be gone because sons don't want to follow their fisherman father's footsteps anymore.

The kids loved the boat ride.

But then Tripp fell asleep.

And Reagan tried on a funny hat.

So I did too.

And just like that our ride was over.

Bye Sampan!

I Get Around

I haven't driven a car since July 9th.  And when I last drove on July 9th, I wasn't even aware that it was my last time behind the wheel for a long while.  I wish I had thought about it more because I probably would have driven just a little bit faster, turned the radio up a little bit louder, maybe shut off the air and just roll down the windows.  I would have gone out of my way to drive past somewhere that really mattered, like maybe my old high school, or the church where I got married, or the apartment that we lived in as newlyweds.  But I didn't. 

I knew I wouldn't have a car in Hong Kong.  But I also knew that this city has a fabulous transportation system and it does!  It really, really does!  So here's how I've been getting around the island of Hong Kong.

Taxis


This is a Hong Kong taxi.  When we first arrived, I was exclusively a taxi girl.  It's just easy to get it, tell them where I'm going, and then sit back and play Words With Friends on my phone until I arrive.  And I will admit, there is something about hailing a cab that makes you feel very cosmopolitan chic.  Like playing make believe or something.

I've had some really great taxi drivers.  One named Simon, picked me up two days in a row.  I recognized him by the row of cute little trinkets on his dashboard, lucky cat figurines and plastic cars and air fresheners and such.  He remembered me too, because halfway through the fare he said "didn't I drive you yesterday?".  He went on to tell me all about his brother, who went to medical school back in the States and how he hoped to visit him there one day.  "Cost lot of money," he told me wistfully about his wish to travel.

Another day I hopped in a cab with some ladies I had lunch with and one named Annie thanked the driver saying " Mh goi".  He got a kick out of her beginners Cantonese and started giving us a mini lesson explaining that Mh goi was appropriate for his services, but if we are ever given a gift, the response of thanks would be "do jeh".   "Mh goi for taxi ride, but someone give you money, do jeh you tell them," he explained to us. 

Some drivers play the radio.  Others prefer dead silence.  Some belch loudly while driving, totally unfazed that there is a woman sitting a few feet behind them.  I'm always tickled by those playing American music in their cabs.  As I speed through the streets of Central on my way to Repulse Bay, who would think I'm listening to the Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive or Lady Gaga, Poker Face?  Some are attached to their Bluetooth and I have to listen to their conversation as we drive.  Not that I understand one single thing they are saying.  Most times it just sounds like the driver is spewing angry words over the phone.... only to have it punctuated by quick laughter.  I don't know that I'll ever grow accustomed to the harsh sound of Cantonese.

A few weeks ago I had a taxi pick me up at home, then drive to Central plaza in Wan Chai to pick up Gene from work, then on to Central where we were meeting friends for drinks and dinner.  Traffic was horrendous and we spent a great deal of time in gridlock.  Finally, we swung into the circular driveway of Gene's building.  My eyes locked with my husbands across the way as he slowly walked towards the taxi.  I put my hand up in an excited wave, so happy to see him, so happy for some time together, so happy for the arrival of the weekend.... only to have my irritated cab driver lay one the horn as if to say 'get your butt moving you American a-hole!  I ain't got all day!'. 

The kids love to take a taxi.  Tripp can hail one all on his own.  In fact, there are times when I have had to shoo a driver away because my son has hailed a cab while my back was turned.  When we climb into the backseat, Tripp tells the driver "129 Repulse Bay, The Wil Wee".  (Let me translate, that's 129 Repulse Bay, The Lily).  The kids are so fascinated by the little red cars that we had to buy our very own Hong Kong taxi .  Tripp loves it so much, he took it in for show and tell at school.  He told the class, "It is a taxi.  It is red." Then he showed them the little taxi sign on top and spelled it for them, "T-A-X-I". 

Buses

Some people swear by the bus system, but I'm not fully comfortable with them yet. Mostly it's because I'm not familiar with all the stops. I've taken the bus home, because I know what that bus stop looks like; I know when to ring the bell to get off.   But if I'm going to a new location I'm always uneasy and need to give myself loads of time. Quite often I'll study the routes on their website and write down the names and the number of the stops just so I can track where I am and when I need to get off. 

Just Breathe

You ever see that movie Ever After?  It's a spin on the Cinderella fairy tale starring Drew Barrymore as "Danielle" (a.k.a. Cinderella) and Anjelica Huston plays the wicked stepmother.  Well, there is this wonderful scene as Danielle hurries to get to the royal ball, all decked in a gossamer wings and glittery eye make-up, and as she gets to the gated entrance she stops, maybe overwhelmed, maybe unsure of herself and she whispers "just breathe".  Simple words, but meaningful ones.  I love that line. Just breathe. 

When our flight landed in Hong Kong in July, I hit the ground running.  Determined to make the most of this experience, it was just a matter of days before I was enrolled in activities, taxi-ing to meetings, doing the "smile and wave" of my Miss Polonaise days.  Shaking so many hands, my palms were numb; committing to memory not only names and faces, but names, faces, children's names, where they came from, how long they'll be here, where they are living, and is your daughter in Girl Scouts? Is your son in the R2 4 cluster or the R2 3 cluster?  Do you belong to the American Club?

Once school started, the childrens' activities easily filled the blocks of my calendar.  And where there were gaps, I filled them in.  Trips to shop for housewares, coffee dates, tours exploring wet markets, classes on using mass transit, lunches with my hubby, dinners with other ex-pats.  Does it sound fun?  Well, yeah.  But is it exhausting? You know it is!

Night after night, after getting the kids tucked into bed, I collapse on the couch and glare at my laptop.  I know this blog is sitting out there, just waiting to be updated.  My husband has reminded me time, after time, after time.  And the funny thing is, I've got all these stories in my head.  Stories about the Stanley Market where I like to wander, and the style of dress, and how it feels to be a white woman in a sea of Asian faces.  Tales of taxi drivers who give language lessons as they drive and the young Phillippina helper who greets me with "good morning maam!" everyday when I walk Reagan to the school bus.  Photos to share of the smokey temples I've ventured into and the colorful streets of the flower markets.  That's what I want to record, but in my end-of-the-day, numb stupor, all I can do is sit and stare at the keyboard.

Hong Kong didn't do this to me.  I did this to me.  So determined to build a life for myself here and pass the time so I'm not sitting around lamenting my life back in North Carolina, I've over scheduled myself to the extreme.  And I've done it in a way that I can't even enjoy what I'm doing.  Instead, I'm running from place to place, jumping from taxi to taxi, checking my watch to make sure I can share lunch with Tripp and squeezing in an hour to shelf books in the school library.  It's time to stop.  Time to just breathe.

So, from here on out, I am going to try to slow it down and ENJOY where I am at and what I am doing.  It's not quantity, it's quality, right?  I'm going to get back to basics, get back to my bog, write about my life here as I originally intended. And if the blocks of my daily planner start to get crowded with dates and times and places again, I will step back and tell myself, just breathe.  Just breathe.

Mid-Autumn in Mid-September

Just the other day, the Chinese celebrated a holiday called the Mid-Autumn festival.  I know, I know.  It's technically still summer.  But let's not ruin their fun.

In a nutshell, this is the deal with the Mid-Autumn holiday. Way back when, Chinese families would gather together around this time on the night of the full moon.  They'd sit around and kibitz, much like my Polish family who sits around a dining room table, grazing for hours on end, and the little ones would run around like small maniacs carrying paper lanterns, much like my Polish cousins minus the lanterns.

Now a days, the holiday still aligns with the full moon.  Families still gather, but usually at the beach and instead of candle lit lanterns (can you say fire hazard?) they carry glow sticks or lanterns with small battery operated light bulbs in them. 

But here is the thing about the Mid-Autumn Festival.... both then and now.  For the family members who couldn't be with you to celebrate, you look up at the big, round, full moon and you think of them.  And you know that know matter where you are and no matter where they are, you're all staring up at the same moon. 

Here's some snapshots of our first Mid-Autumn Festival.

Tripp in his traditional Chinese garb

Reagan the little China girl

Games at The Lily's Mid-Autumn celebration

Like father, like daughter

Lots of lanterns

Ready to hit the beach with their glow sticks and Angry Birds lanterns.

Lobby of The Lily

Repulse Bay Beach

Building sand castles by moonlight

Mid-Autumn joy!

Building with Bella ;-)