conclusion
My last 24 hours in China involved one last night in Hong Kong, to pick up my tailored suit, meet an old friend from university and enjoy one final dinner in Asia. I can say that I chose to stay at the W because it was within walking distance of the Airport Express train from Kowloon Station and so would be convenient, but in all honesty, I just wanted a treat. Business travel had landed me a bunch of Amex points, and this seemed like a good reason as any to blow some of them. The room came with blackout curtains, fuzzy bathrobes and a bed that was nearly bigger than the office in my apartment.
Still, I later realized that if I wanted to hold on to my vacation a little longer, I might have wanted to book elsewhere. I got into the elevator on my way to meeting up with 'M, and eased my way into a small crowd of charcoal Armani suits and Blackberries, talking about contracts, deals and markets. If going from Hong Kong to Shenzhen was to be eased into China, then going from Hong Kong to the West was reminding me of what awaited on the other side of vacation. I know that world. But for one more evening, I was not my suit. I was not my expense account.
I met 'M at some point in freshman year. She was a year ahead of me, liked dating rugby players and was also the roommate and best friend of J. (yes, the same J. who gave me The Papasan) We were good friends all throughout university, and even after she went back, she had sent me a wedding invite in 2000, which I had to turn down due to the cost of airfare and being a poor grad students. Now, I was looking forward to catching up again.
When I talked to her before I left for China, I asked 'M if she wanted anything from Boston and her response was instant: "one pound of Dunkin Donuts coffee and Cape Cod chips ... well, it may be hard to keep the chips intact, but definitely the Dunkin Donuts." She had only spent four years in Boston, but it's funny to see what leaves a mark.
I met 'M and her daughter back on Hong Kong Island, at a restaurant that was apparently known for their snake soup. At some point, in between catching up on the last 14 years, filling in the gaps between emails and Facebook status updates, after I talked about the various challenges of establishing residency in the States, she just shook her head and asked, "did you really think you'd stay in Boston that long?"
"At the time? I don't know. I liked it well enough, and I liked the US, but I just wound up never leaving. I still feel like I can take or leave the city, but I was kind of surprised that it's my social circle that's keeping me there and is the hardest thing to consider leaving."
"That's our twenties, I think. We enjoy the ride, and we make whatever choices the seem sensible at the time, and then we wake up and we're almost forty and realize, 'Oh, this is the life I have now. Ok.' The weight of certain choices and decisions and relationships start to be felt. Sometimes it's hard and it takes work. Some of us are a little luckier than others, but we all have our challenges. Marriage, kids, jobs, just ... living."
We parted ways after dinner, and I rode the Star Ferry back alone across Victoria Harbor taking in the neon glow of Kowloon and the sight of crimson sailed junks bobbing across the water. I had one last drink at a bar at the top of the Peninsula, writing a bit before retiring to the hotel, to pack my suit and get ready to head back to Boston.
It was a good trip. I'm not fond of thinking of vacations as 'escapes' as I like to think that everything about the life we have is what we've chosen. To think of something else as an escape implies being trapped in circumstances that one does not prefer. Still, travel does break up the humdrum routines of our everyday, and it was good to get away. It was good to be placed in a different setting, and perhaps, in that way, look at life differently and gain other reflections on one's circumstances -- to be somewhere different but with familiar touchstones like friends and memories so that it feels like a continuation of regular life rather than an interruption. I spent my last morning in Hong Kong watching the sun rise from a pool 76 floors above the harbor, being grateful for the luck in my life and thinking about other choices that one eventually has to make.
Still, I later realized that if I wanted to hold on to my vacation a little longer, I might have wanted to book elsewhere. I got into the elevator on my way to meeting up with 'M, and eased my way into a small crowd of charcoal Armani suits and Blackberries, talking about contracts, deals and markets. If going from Hong Kong to Shenzhen was to be eased into China, then going from Hong Kong to the West was reminding me of what awaited on the other side of vacation. I know that world. But for one more evening, I was not my suit. I was not my expense account.
I met 'M at some point in freshman year. She was a year ahead of me, liked dating rugby players and was also the roommate and best friend of J. (yes, the same J. who gave me The Papasan) We were good friends all throughout university, and even after she went back, she had sent me a wedding invite in 2000, which I had to turn down due to the cost of airfare and being a poor grad students. Now, I was looking forward to catching up again.
When I talked to her before I left for China, I asked 'M if she wanted anything from Boston and her response was instant: "one pound of Dunkin Donuts coffee and Cape Cod chips ... well, it may be hard to keep the chips intact, but definitely the Dunkin Donuts." She had only spent four years in Boston, but it's funny to see what leaves a mark.
I met 'M and her daughter back on Hong Kong Island, at a restaurant that was apparently known for their snake soup. At some point, in between catching up on the last 14 years, filling in the gaps between emails and Facebook status updates, after I talked about the various challenges of establishing residency in the States, she just shook her head and asked, "did you really think you'd stay in Boston that long?"
"At the time? I don't know. I liked it well enough, and I liked the US, but I just wound up never leaving. I still feel like I can take or leave the city, but I was kind of surprised that it's my social circle that's keeping me there and is the hardest thing to consider leaving."
"That's our twenties, I think. We enjoy the ride, and we make whatever choices the seem sensible at the time, and then we wake up and we're almost forty and realize, 'Oh, this is the life I have now. Ok.' The weight of certain choices and decisions and relationships start to be felt. Sometimes it's hard and it takes work. Some of us are a little luckier than others, but we all have our challenges. Marriage, kids, jobs, just ... living."
We parted ways after dinner, and I rode the Star Ferry back alone across Victoria Harbor taking in the neon glow of Kowloon and the sight of crimson sailed junks bobbing across the water. I had one last drink at a bar at the top of the Peninsula, writing a bit before retiring to the hotel, to pack my suit and get ready to head back to Boston.
It was a good trip. I'm not fond of thinking of vacations as 'escapes' as I like to think that everything about the life we have is what we've chosen. To think of something else as an escape implies being trapped in circumstances that one does not prefer. Still, travel does break up the humdrum routines of our everyday, and it was good to get away. It was good to be placed in a different setting, and perhaps, in that way, look at life differently and gain other reflections on one's circumstances -- to be somewhere different but with familiar touchstones like friends and memories so that it feels like a continuation of regular life rather than an interruption. I spent my last morning in Hong Kong watching the sun rise from a pool 76 floors above the harbor, being grateful for the luck in my life and thinking about other choices that one eventually has to make.