Shrinking violets

Describe a conversation that you had this year. Why was it memorable?
Communicate [LISTEN]: This post is part of #Weverb12.

I cannot remember a particular conversation, and that’s not for want of trying. I actually went to gtalk archives to check but there were too many to peruse.

So this post shall be a tribute to MinCat who I have had so many great conversations with this year, and basically every year since we’ve known each other. The next best thing to having great friends right there in person is having a great friend who is online practically all the time you are. We have a lot of “going to pee/back” punctuating our chat marathons, which should tell you something. I sometimes lose track of the people that pop into MinCat’s life (she is very social, that one) but if there are names that don’t ring a bell or developments referred to that I hadn’t heard of before, I am surprised.

MinCat and I work well conversationally because we are both self-critical, we have shit going on in our heads that we air and then analyse, we can get silly about the same things now and then, and we have a lot of common interests. Both of us have things going on this year and we have shrinked each other time and again to decent effect. We can say things to each other that are sometimes brutally honest, but I like to think that we do so without being outright bitches. We also have theories about Life, the Universe and Everything that we test out on each other and firm up before unleashing them on the world. 

My other great online chatbuddy was Curly but her boss killed that for us. Boo! Neverthless, when he was away and our clocks serendipitously synced, we have had some good times.

I mentioned before that at the back of my mind I’ve worried that my closest friends are the ones I’m in touch with online. But I’m beginning to realise that it’s more than a lot of people have and also, I have to acknowledge, that if I had a bunch of people I totally gelled with right here and now, I would still be cherishing these online conversations as much. It would be great if we could have them over coffee every other day, but the Internet allows me to bring my friends to work, so yay to that.

This is less a post about conversation and more a tribute to friendship. This article sums it up for me.

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Weverb12: recharge [CREATE]

What did you do to recharge your batteries in 2012?

I took a couple of minibreaks in the year, to Macao with the kids and our helpers, to India on my own, and then one in a hotel across town with just V. Both were refreshing in their own way.

The holiday with the kids showed me how different holidays are when you have young babies, even with helpers in tow, because everything needs to revolve around their schedule, otherwise you are battling angsty children (at least, this is the case with the babies I’ve been blest with, taking after their mother, I suppose, who also has meltdowns if she’s not well rested or well fed enough). Nevertheless, just getting away from Hong Kong cleared my mind.

The break to India was much-cherished me-time, time to really catch up with friends and family, and to veg out in a way that I hadn’t in a while. I came inexplicably homesick for India.

The in-town hotel minibreak with V was even more refreshing, and I highly recommend it to people with young children. If you can arrange a baby-sitter for your child for just a day and a half, better still a couple of days, this kind of break can really recharge your relationship. At least, it did for me.

I am only just realizing how much headspace having children occupies. And while it is good headspace, other things do get pushed to the corners, and sometimes these other things are your spouse. I didn’t really have faith that this remedy would work but it’s effects have been really good.

That’s not to say that V and I don’t fight. We have other stuff going on in our lives, such as both our workplaces (but particularly V’s) being stressful right now, that puts strains on our home-time, but that time together without competing interests solidified something between us, in a good way.

Weverb12: read [LIVE]

Did you read a book this year that left you craving more when it was over?

Although The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee didn’t particularly leave me craving for me, it was the book I’d been wanting to read all of 2012 and I got to it at the end of the year (just finished it in fact). The reason I was so keen on reading this book is because it’s subject matter – cancer – hit close to home this year.

My best friend in Hong Kong was diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of 2011. She is 36 and it’s her second time. She had been having regular screenings and just got an all clear on her last mamogram, six years after cancer first struck her and in cancer terms, that’s normally a signal that you’re clear for life hopefully. Just a month later, doing a manual breast exam, she discovered a lump. And yeah, it was cancer.

I was nearing the end of my pregnancy when she told me and although I took the news calmly, it was a blow , not the least because I feel particularly gutted when terrible things happen to the best of people. After Mimi was born, in between caring for my baby, my friend and I had agonising discussions over the best course of action – single mastectomy?  double mastectomy ? Using tissue from the stomach? Or the back? Whether to use silicone implants or not?

Of course, she had these discussions with her doctors. But these are emotional discussions as well as medical ones. Although my initial reaction was get rid of anything that can put your life at risk, women’s breasts are part of their sexual and personal identity and it is not easy contemplating life without them. So while breastfeeding Mimi, I would be reading research papers on breast cancer treatments.

Although this was my friend’s ordeal and she suffered it alone, it contributed to my low this year. Her breast reconstruction didn’t take, and after a 9-hour surgery she had to go in the OT again for another round. It was one bad news after the next for her. She had hoped she would escape chemo but it was not to be and she spent three months or so being pumped full of chemicals.

I was wracked by the guilt of not being able to be there for her because Mimi was too young to leave. In the end, once Mimi was older, I took two days off work and stayed with my friend during a couple of chemo cycles. I didn’t do much except keep up a constant stream of chatter and remind her to eat. She said it gave her something to look forward to. If you have a friend or family member going through this, remember that this human company can be very important. But you need to be someone they are comfortable puking in front of.

I had been keen to read this book from the time I heard about my friend’s condition and then I noticed it at her place. I don’t think she read it herself, having lived through the whole thing. So I finally borrowed it, and what a read it was. The first few pages my heart was thumping as if it was a thriller. It presents the discoveries related to cancer in an exciting and human way interspersed with stories of cancer patients and survivors.

Some takeaways from the book:

1. I have been under the impression that the incidence of cancer is increasing due to the modern lifestyle, specifically because we consume more harmful, chemical stuff. However, one of the points this book makes is that cancer goes back to ancient times – tumours have been recovered from mummies from ancient civilisations, for example – and that often it was subsumed under different diseases, and not categorized as cancer as such. Now, that cancer has been identified as such and diagnosed, it is more apparent. Also, it is a disease of old age and people are now living longer. Earlier, people would die before cancer developed. Also, drugs to treat cancer mean that many more people survive the first incidence of cancer and then relapse. In cases like CML, a form of leukemia with almost fatal prognosis in the past, it is almost completely treatable by a drug and thus “each one of us, on average, will know one person with this leukemia who is being kept alive by a targeted anticancer drug.”
2. Chemicals are both our enemies and friends. Again, thanks to the messiahs of “natural” everything, I have begun to see chemicals as big bad wolves, quite ignoring the fact that we are all essentially atoms and molecules, the scientific meaning of the word organic is compounds which contain carbon. In terms of cancer, chemicals have been saviours. CGP57148 (to treat CML), Herceptin (to treat breast cancer linked to the Her-2 gene), the cocktails of chemicals dreamed up by scientists throughout history, the molecules engineered to fit into the genes that drive the cancer cell and block their action, they have quite simply been lifesavers. To these chemicals I owe my friend’s life. Yes, some chemicals like asbestos have been identified as carcinogens. And we now seem to be surrounded by chemicals, on food and product labels, and we seem to be in some race to reduce the number of them. But we need to calm down and consider that these chemicals save lives too, like preservatives that prevent food from going bad. Its important that we have sophisticated watchdogs screening chemicals introduced into the things we come into contact with. Granted that these watchdogs are susceptible to lobbying but their very existence means that we are better off than times gone by when we were unaware of the existence of harmful chemicals.
3. On a related note, this book changed my perception of chemotherapy. I had this notion that if diagnosed with cancer, I would rather die than go through chemotherapy. I viewed chemotherapy as simply prolonging life in a horrible way, pumped full of drugs. But I have now seen chemotherapy first hand. I have seen that a few months after chemotherapy, one can be back to almost normal. That in the six years between my friend’s last cancer and this one, chemotherapy technology and drugs to alleviate its side effects have improved so much. Reading the stories of people who fought so valiantly against this disease, and experiencing my friend’s own struggle, ironically I have fresh respect for life.
4. It has also taken the shine off smoking for me. Somehow, people I know who smoke seem to wave away the link between smoking and cancer as somewhat fuzzy. It is not. It is one of the most concrete links that has been proven, and something to think about is that when a person gets cancer, they create a genetic predisposition that could affect future generations. This doesn’t mean that I will never smoke (though I will try not to regularly). It means I will never say idiotic things like “oh, how come he smoked so much and didn’t get cancer?” He was just very lucky. Don’t reduce the odds on your own life. Chemotherapy prolongs life but it is far from a cakewalk. As women, we really need a better way to feel powerful than killing ourselves slowly.
5. In addition to cancer, I learnt a bit about the human genome. Cancers are cells with mutations in their genes that allow them to keep dividing and to evade cell death. To understand death, we have to understand life and the sequencing of the human genome has helped us to map this out intricately. I don’t know if they teach genetics in school biology these days but I think it’s important for all of us to understand the basics of it because it will not only help us understand our own bodies better but it may explain aspects of human behaviour in general too.

Future reading: Something on genetics perhaps.

#Weverb12: reminisce [GROW]

What distant memory/time did you find yourself longing for in 2012?

Sometime ago, V commented that childhood is the time we all hark back to. This was certainly true for me until my 20s. I remember doing a simple personality quiz that diagnosed me as stuck in the period from 5-12 and it struck me as very accurate.

In my 30s now, I am more realistic about my childhood. I definitely had a good childhood. A comfortable one, with necessities and a lot of extras provided, and a very loving family environment. I grew up in a building surrounded by friends and have amazing memories of summer holidays spent almost entirely downstairs. But I did have my insecurities as a child. In my first and second standard of primary school, I was practically friendless. I found secondary school extremely boring, although friends made up for it. I was mentally precocious but physically an awkward teenager.

The time I hark back to now is my early 20s. My personality was formed. I was confident in my looks. I was secure in my friendships. The period from 21-24 in particular was my heyday. I was the most social and confident I have ever been. I looked the best I ever have. I attracted people, friends and lovers. It was a time of romance, intense friendships, experimentation and joie de vivre.

I don’t necessarily want to go back to those heady days –  though I wouldn’t mind going back to those looks – but that period is the touchstone of who I am.

 

A merry little Christmas

Growing up, Christmas was always a big deal. It was High Mass, lots of presents, exchanging sweets with the neighbours, visiting people and finally a big lunch with our aunts, uncles and cousins. When I moved to Hong Kong this continued because we always went back home for Christmas, except for one year when V’s family came over and it was still much the same.

That changed when Benji was born. Christmas was the day I pulled myself together after a firm talking to from my mum. I can’t remember what we did exactly, except take photos, because Benji was just a month old then.

The next year, I was nearly due with Mimi. My helper was very keen on Benji going to church and so we went with her and then V, Benji and I came back and had biryani or something for lunch and that was it.

This year, was similar but we had two babies in tow. My helper offered to work today but I sensed she’d like us to go to church and so we did. At 8 am, no less. Even the priest commended those of us who were there for rousing ourselves so early. Clearly he is not a parent. I go to church sporadically enough to find it moving but unfortunately, the kids didn’t agree and the singing kept them entertained for about 20 minutes. First V and Benji exited, followed by Mimi and I, and we explored the churchyard till our helper E emerged.

We had pushed Mimi through her naptime and she had a meltdown on the way back and Benji followed suit. When we got back V said he’s decided against another baby!

While Mimi napped we had a series of Skype sessions with family. There is a big gathering of V’s family in Australia for a wedding and he would be joining them soon as the sole representative of our little family because I refused to fly there with the two kids and V realised that was sensible too. I think his aunt is a little miffed with me; I think people don’t realise just how much of a handful very young children can be and just because planes exist doesn’t make flying a breeze.

There was a big Christmas lunch going on at their place – reminding me of the craziness of weddings but also giving both V and I a pang for the kind of Christmases we were used to. When Mimi woke up, the kids opened the little presents I had got them. We had already given Benji a scooter yesterday as V wanted to see him enjoy it. I also got him a car (actually a colleague won it at the office Christmas party and gave it to me) and a couple of chocolate Santas (which I won from the office Christmas party). I got Mimi a hideous pink toy laptop because she is obsessed with our laptop and some rubber toy zoo animals.

The kids were excited with their gifts and I impressed upon them that they were from Santa. I had good intentions of wrapping them last night but typically, forgot paper so opted for gift bags instead, which worked quite well. V said it didn’t matter and Mimi wouldn’t even know but I want this to be a tradition, just like it was a tradition for me growing up. The gifts needn’t be spectacular – what I got wasn’t expensive – but the anticipation and seeing something under the tree (our tree this time was a paper card from friends as we really have no space to put one up) is something I cherish.

Our lunch was pizza, which though not exactly Christmas fare was enjoyed by all particularly as noone slaved over it. After a nap, we took a cab with V to the airport as he was leaving for Australia. We dropped him off without any fuss – Benji said “bye daddy” very sweetly and then headed up to the mall Elements above the airport express where there was a Christmas installation by Polish artist Agata Olek which Benji really enjoyed.

Miraculously, the queue to get a photo with Santa wasn’t that long and I decided to queue up. At the last minute, Benji saw Santa and started trying to run off but I had a brainwave at the last minute and said “Santa’ll give you candy” and that convinced him. Thankfully, Santa really did give him candy and we got a nice photo. Took a cab home where I managed to pronounce the name of my estate in Cantonese (what? It’s very complicated. Even my Chinese friends have trouble with it.) A short stint in the playroom and we came up where the kids spent a good half hour playing with each other and giggling.

Although this wasn’t the Christmas of tradition, I realised that kids really do fill in a lot of gaps. Them being there makes us do stuff like decorate the house, and also institute traditions of our own. But mainly, they fill the house with laughter and noise enough for a whole clan. So while a Christmas with lots of family and little ones would always be welcome, for now, this is one is pretty great.

Hope yours was merry and bright too!

#Weverb12: soak [LISTEN]

What have you soaked in this year? (Baths, sun, ideas?) How did it affect your mentality?

Definitely ideas from all the non-fiction I have been reading. I feel like I have learned so much this year. The growth that happens through fiction is more emotional and macro; non-fiction learning is very specific.

But since this series has a lot of prompts about books, I’m going to talk about the outdoors. I spent a lot of time outdoors this year, partly because I have a toddler. So mornings every weekend, we go outside to some playground and I occasionally slide down slides.

The playgrounds in Hong Kong are quite amazing, though people here of course complain about them. Our estate, a private expensive-ish one, is connected by Hong Kong’s warren of overhead walkways to two public housing estates on either side. While the outdoor playground in our estate is basically a manicured patch of grass, the two public estates have the whole swing-slide-jungle gym set up outdoors (in our estate, this is indoors because wealthy parents prefer to have their kids indoors, I’m assuming. Boo!). Not sure I am allowed to do this, but I freely use the other two playgrounds and I find the lower income kids there, from the much-reviled Mainland no less, more friendly. I even have a regular old Chinese uncle who I chat with, which doesn’t sound like much, but in Hong Kong it’s quite amazing.

We normally do a walk around the estates, during which Benji marvels at buses and tries to touch the odd dog. People here are strangely averse to their dogs being touched, probably fearing that the dog might do something that causes us to complain but this goes against the grain of dog-owning I think. And I have gotten sick of accosting people and demanding to be allowed to touch their dog while they try to slip away. Then we might nip into the bus interchange to marvel more at buses.

In the evenings, I try to take him to the park in our estate, even though it can be a little boring because I want him to be outdoors. This weekend we took Mimi too and let her crawl on the grass, only she put some mud in her mouth and I scared another kid by yelling “No!”

Apart from that, we end up doing at least one jaunt with the kids, carefully chosen to fit the various naptimes, and getting some sunshine. One weekend it was the farmer’s market, another a Chinese garden. We have begun to take Mimi and she loves being outdoors. We end up getting a lot of exercise on these outings. And I like being in the fresh air. And V has been more amenable instead of putting on a you-are-dragging-me-off-couch-again of late maybe because the weather is better. I’m generally in a good mood after it.

As Mimi grows older, I only envisage more these. Specifically trip to the beach.

When I finished writing this post, I realised it was probably more appropriate to the next prompt in the series. So I’ve decided to combine them. Consider this my response to this too:

exercise [LIVE]: How did you live actively in 2012? What will you change in 2013?

What will I change? About this, nothing. Except more of the same. Today we went to the zoo and it was glorious fun.

Weverb12: thank [HOPE]

Write that thank you note that you’ve been meaning to send this year… or would like to send next year…

Dear Mum,

Two years, three grandchildren, not bad huh? When people congratulate you on your grandchildren, I doubt they have an inkling of how awesome a grandmother you have been. Not because of the usual fond grandparent  stuff, which you do, but because of the immense physical hard work you put into each of your granchildren’s lives when they were newborns.

Before Benji, I told you that if you couldn’t make it here to help me, I would manage. And I meant it with no malice. I do not believe mothers are obliged to tend to their children’s  children when they are born. It is enough that they have tended to their own children. But you said you would want to do it. V asked me how I would feel if you only made it to my sister’s delivery and not mine, and I said, I would understand. I know it is hard for you to arrange to your obligations at home and spend a few months with us. Doing it twice in a year is harder.

But you came through, and how. The first time around I had underestimated how much I would need you. The second time, I knew better, and even V asked me if you could come for Mimi’s birth.

I will never forget and never let my children forget how you cared for them when they were born. The days and nights spent rocking them, so much so that your arm began to hurt and we had to use a balm. The burping that only you could do. Bathing them because we were too scared to. Helping me carry them to the doctors. All the hard stuff, the backbreaking stuff, the exhausting parts, you were there.

And supporting  me, the mother who alternated between tears, ranting and rages. My postpartum behavior may have shocked and confused you but you tried your best to understand. When Mimi was born, you kept Benji occupied and I was amazed at your energy, running after a lively toddler.

For all this, I can only say thank you. Through you, I have learnt a mother’s love. I know that if Benji and Mimi have babies, I will have to make myself available in the same way that you did. Because of you, I know how to sacrifice again and again, fueled by love for my children.

Again, thank you.

thank [HOPE]

#Weverb12: replicate [CREATE]

What were you inspired to create/make this year based on something else? (i.e. a pin from pinterest, recipe from a friend, etc.)

Pregnancy and the time right before it was a fertile time for me. Duh, I know. But I mean creatively. Some women experience a massive nesting instinct during pregnancy, particularly just before giving birth. It has been said that you know that you’re due date is near when you start wanting to clean house.

For me, it was this urge to make something with my hands that gripped me. Awaiting Benji, I took up knitting. I did booties, a hat, and then a sweater that turned out to be a cape. None were particularly attractive or ever worn. Hmph. Pointed hints from V made me abandon knitting, temporarily (my piece de wool still awaits me), and I turned my hands to scrapbooking. It cannot be said that I am extremely talented in this area, either, but from V’s point of view, at least the results could be hidden away in a cupboard and would not adorn our children. From mine, I enjoyed it. It took me back to the days of craft classes, except that I was using my own judgment here and we had all outgrown the days when our artwork needed to be the best.

Last year, I finally attended a scrapbook class where the penny dropped. One was not expected to create a brilliant layout oneself right away, as a newcomer it’s okay to copy. And I, in particular, benefit from a lot of direction. After that class I went back and dressed up some of the pages in Benji’s book using some of the ideas I had gained. For Mimi’s book, I have used an album kit I bought which already has the layouts and instructions on how to stick the various kinds of paper. It’s more assembly than anything but there’s room for journaling and keepsakes.

I remember being in a creative rush when I was pregnant with both Benji and Mimi. I finished Benji’s scrapbook while I was pregnant with Mimi. I also wrote an entire draft of a novel, a very rough one but when I tried to repeat the feat this time, I found can’t. I began to suspect it was the hormones abating because I lost the will to scrapbook too. Only recently I’ve been feeling twinges of the desire to do something, and I’m trying to get back into scrapbooking. I have projects I want to do, memories I want to chronicle and that class gave me ideas I want to execute on my own blank canvas.

#Weverb12: quote [GROW]

What inspirational quote would you associate with this past year for you?

I have three quotes that resonated with me this past year

1. As you know, I have had struggles in my marriage this year. The quote below put a lot of things in perspective for me. It reminded me of something a priest once said to me about love being a gift you give and not something you take. Somewhere in these seven years, I stopped being so willing about giving, about backing down. To give, for me is an act of trust, and I stopped trusting. This quote reminded me of the idea that is actually the basis of the Christian faith, that to win you have to lose.

Via Shayla:

“When it comes to winning and losing, I think there are three kinds of marriages. In the first kind of marriage, both spouses are competing to win, and it’s a duel to the death. Husbands and wives are armed with a vast arsenal, ranging from fists, to words, to silence. These are the marriages that destroy. Spouses destroy each other, and, in the process, they destroy the peace of their children. In fact, the destruction is so complete that research tells us it is better for children to have divorced parents than warring parents. These marriages account for most of the fifty percent of marriages that fail, and then some. The second kind of marriage is ripe with winning and losing, but the roles are set, and the loser is always the same spouse. These are the truly abusive marriages, the ones in which one spouse dominates, the other submits, and in the process, both husband and wife are stripped of their dignity. These are the marriages of addicts and enablers, tyrants and slaves, and they may be the saddest marriages of all.

But there is a third kind of marriage. The third kind of marriage is not perfect, not even close. But a decision has been made, and two people have decided to love each other to the limit, and to sacrifice the most important thing of all—themselves. In these marriages, losing becomes a way of life, a competition to see who can listen to, care for, serve, forgive, and accept the other the most. The marriage becomes a competition to see who can change in ways that are most healing to the other, to see who can give of themselves in ways that most increase the dignity and strength of the other.  These marriages form people who can be small and humble and merciful and loving and peaceful.”

Full article by Kelly Flanagan at UnTangled blog

2. As we weigh up moving to India, I am once again struggling with where I belong.  I fear that in eschewing being a foreigner in a foreign land, I will land up in the more disturbing position of being a foreigner in my own land, or worse, realising that I never had my own land. This quote offers a different perspective to the idea of being rooted to places.

Via Masala Chica:

“Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your own mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it’s not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you’ve been to. I’m not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don’t have to be like anyone else. I’m walking on the wall and nobody can stop me.” (From The Speckled People, A Memoir of a Half-Irish Childhood)

3. Related to quote 1, the following quote provides a strategy for me. I need to learn to back down, and one of the ways to do that is to let things go, to not dwell.

Via Melbourne Maharani:

It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days… Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me… So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling.
(Aldous Huxley, The Rainbow)

#Weverb12: walk [LIVE]

Describe the path to a favorite place of yours to walk in 2012. What’s meaningful about the place or the journey?

Have I mentioned I love walking? I dislike standing still, so I will choose to walk over waiting for a bus or a taxi.

Quite unusually for Hong Kong, I actually have to walk on the street to get to work. Most people I know have an MTR exit that serendipitously comes up right near their workplace. Because I live right on top of an MTR station, the husband, for example, pretty much has to take two elevators down, ride the MTR, and then take a couple of escalators up into this work building. This might strike some people as terrible, but in a place where rain is perennial and there is a typhoon season, it can be pretty darn useful. Especially if you’re grocery shopping with a baby in a buggy, like my helper has to do, for example. Or you’re allergic to the sun, like my husband. (I am not joking. I used to poke fun at him, but this year, he was officially diagnosed as suffering from migraines, so that might explain is sun aversion.)

Anyway, I am not the only one who finds the arrangement of actually (gasp!) walking on the street to work for a little over 10 minutes unusual. Now and then someone will suggest a shuttle bus, and be promptly ignored. When we moved to the new building, there was a minibus from the MTR to that building and I happily availed of it.

However, I have gone back to walking, partly because the wait for the minibus can get long, but also because I realised that I need the exercise. I have resolved to not only walk that route to and from work but also to and from lunch. Since I cannot find the motivation to exercise after work, at least these 15 minute spurts will count for something.

Now, let me describe the walk. I emerge from the MTR station – one of the smaller ones – into a lower income area, primarily comprising public housing. There are a lot of elderly people and more than the normal share of disabled people around. In this MTR, for example, there is a gang of old women who wait outside the turnstile for people to give them the free newspapers that are distributed in the MTR. They collect these to sell to recyclers. One of these ladies is so bent over, she’s almost always looking at the floor. At some point, an old man joined the gang and I suspect he gets more than his fair share of papers just by virtue of gender difference. I also often see this guy in a motorized wheelchair who is pretty speedy on the sidewalk and even has a passenger standing behind him.

The stretch of the street outside the MTR is pretty busy. There’s a new bakery that’s become a popular alternative to McDonald’s just next door for grabbing breakfast. A lot of office workers buy their brekkie on their way to work and consume it at their desk, I assume because they are up so late at night (most lights are on in our building around 2 am) that they’d rather save the time they would have spent eating at home for sleeping.

It’s an uphill trudge up this road, past a mall of course, which famously raised the rent forcing the old mom-n-pop stores  to give way to chain stores priced, according to me, too expensively for the neighbourhood. There is a flight of stairs to climb up to the main street, last year with broken steps that could be super slippy in the rain, completely unacceptable considering the older population that uses them. This is a good walk to do to get a sense of Hong Kong that is less prosperous and more down-to-earth, if you will.

I come up onto a main road, which borders a park. This part of the walk is really pleasant because there are trees overhanging the road and it’s fairly quiet, except for the chirping of birds and there are some really unusual (to me) species flitting about. In the park, there are always elderly people doing tai chi and kung fu to music with fans and swords. It’s pretty awesome.

It takes about 10 minutes to hit the university. If I am lucky, the bell in the clock tower will be tolling. I used to work in the first building, but now I have to walk through a promenade to get to the new building. On the way, I pass a sports ground which is usually empty at that point. Five minutes later, and one elevator ride up, I’m in office.

How do you get to work?