By Sue Oakes

We were about as far away from home as you could get.  The other side of the world to be exact.  It was 2008 and we were moving to Hong Kong!  I was trying to get into the spirit, but at that moment I was exhausted and I really wished the airline hadn’t lost our luggage.

I spent the last 13 hours on a plane trying to figure out how I was feeling about our next move to Asia.  It was pretty much a done deal and this trip was meant to woo us and find housing.  The business class tickets and endless supply of champagne certainly helped the trip along, but I was unsettled and John was starting to look a little pale. 

Just 10 months earlier we arrived back from our first experience living abroad in Amsterdam. It was a total surprise and only lasted for six months.  I had just been downsized from my job and my dad had passed away.  It was if the Universe was telling me I should go away and eat pastry.  So, I listened.  Being in Amsterdam, and Europe in general, was like living in a snow globe.  Everything was so cute and cobblestoned.  All I needed was a scarf to transform me from an American to a Dutch local sitting up straight on my rusty bike, dinging my bell.  Knowing we only had a few precious months, we wasted no time jumping between bakeries, museums and bars.  We traveled almost every weekend to see everything we could and soak up beer and the culture.  My mind, and my waistline, were expanding beautifully. 

This, however, was not Amsterdam.  As we realized the baggage carousel was not going to produce our luggage we went through the necessary steps in the hopes it was somewhere nearby.  I only had the clothes I was wearing, magazines and sleeping pills in my carryon, none of which was going to be of any use that night.  A rookie mistake!  It was late, I think, or at least it was dark when we stepped out to get a cab to our hotel.  The air was steamy and you could still feel the heat coming off the walkway and building.  The airport is far off on Lantau Island so there was not a lot to see at first.  I stared out the window to get my first glance of the city.  As we drove closer to the city, the lights became brighter, the buildings soared taller, and the streets were buzzing.  It seemed quite like most big cities I had been in except many of the signs were written in Cantonese reminding me I was somewhere else.   It was late but the city was still awake and I could feel it.  My eyes were too tired to take it all in and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  I didn’t even mind that I had nothing clean to sleep in. 

The next morning, our company appointed tour guide and driver whisked us away at 9:00am.  Since our luggage still hadn’t arrived, I was wearing the same tired travel clothes with the same tired underwear from the day before and no makeup.  Not exactly how I wanted to be introduced on my big first date with Hong Kong.  I felt like a teenager being dragged against her will on a family vacation.  I rolled my eyes and faked a smile.

We took off in the van and the city flew by.  Skyscrapers everywhere, concrete, steel, billboards, octopusing highway intersections with cars above us, below us and all around.  Our guide kept talking and asking us questions and pointing out different parts of the city, “How was your flight?”  “Are you excited to be in Hong Kong?”  Our driver, on the other hand, didn’t speak any English, but he would point out the window and say, “famous tree.”  I didn’t know how to respond to any of it.

First stop was a beginner’s orientation of Hong Kong at their office.  It was a Cliffs Note presentation highlighting the history of their city and holding up maps outlining all the different areas where we might like to live.  My favorite souvenir was a red Welcome tote bag with brochures and a handbook outlining the different weather warning signals.  We were told what to do if there was a typhoon and to get home as soon as possible when the rain warnings started.  You had to get through 3 levels of rain warnings before the typhoon even started.  There was the amber, red and black rain warnings.  Even though I still wasn’t totally sure what a typhoon was, I knew I better get moving before they shut down the trains and people started going crazy.  I had no idea what was going on.  And now I was very worried about typhoons, something that wasn’t even on my radar until that very moment.   I dug through my big red Welcome tote bag looking for assistance and a cup of coffee, but alas I was on my own.  

We spent the morning whipping around town looking at apartments and “famous trees.”  It was rush hour all day on the roads and on the sidewalks.  Right before I was about to have a tantrum, we headed to a hotel for our driver’s mandatory lunch break.  Finally, we sat still.   Our lunch arrived on plates full of fluffy, steamy dim sum buns with salty sauces and mystery ingredients.  We washed it all down with jasmine tea.  Sustenance for what would lay ahead.  The tea kept flowing and so did the questions. 

The afternoon was a repeat of the morning, except now we were on the Kowloon side across the harbor from Hong Kong Island.  It was even busier and had even more people to weave through.  Everything was piled on top of each other, the buildings and the people.  There was no oasis.  John was starting to turn green and I knew I felt like he looked.  Finally, we were back at our hotel.   Our luggage still had not arrived, and I would not get any comfort from a fresh pair of underwear. 

I can count on one hand the times that John has been really sick, but even he had succumbed to the weight of the day.  But he also knew he had an overwhelmed wife on his hands and tried to rally.  His courageous offer to go out on the town was shot down much to his relief.  I tucked him in bed and went up to the rooftop restaurant by the pool for dinner.  I wanted to be alone.

I quickly found a place at the bar and ordered a glass of cold white wine.  That went down quickly and I ordered another one.  As the wine started moving through my veins I looked out at the skyline.  I sat back in my chair and allowed my body to finally relax.  The city was still for the first time.  From my rooftop perch at the JW Marriott, I was not distracted by the chaos below.  The city smelled like exhaust, humidity, ocean and chlorine.  I could just see the tops of towering building begin to light up in the dark.  The sun was setting over the ocean and the solitude of being on a little island looking out over the vast world helped put things in perspective.  This was going to be my new home.   It was time to let that sink in. 

When we awoke the next morning, our luggage had arrived. 

© 2023 Sue Oakes

Sue loves to write about her adventures living abroad, traveling, and the challenges of making it all happen from one day to the next. Currently, her exploits keep her closer to home with her husband and twin children living in Madison, WI.