Orientation in Disorientation
I swear getting old slows everything down. As I’m pushing 30 this year, gone were the days of throwing things into two suitcases and getting on a plane to begin a new life.. and shipping at most 4 boxes to the new city. This time I shipped out 18 boxes, sold and gave away probably the same capacity of stuff, flew my cat in and am living out of the suitcase with not quite the right clothes so I’m a walking déja vu in a city of the well-dressed.
I still can’t figure out what went wrong, and working long hours with no time to pack isn’t a good excuse. Really, it’s age… and alot of dilly dallying and hanging out on the internet.
I registered myself for a HK ID this week and had a few giggles as the immigration officer had two mobile phone toggly things of braised pork belly hanging on his monitor. I instantly knew we would get along. He then proceeded to art direct me through the photo taking session, reminding me which poses were not favourable to double chins. What a nice man!
Photo via krisfedorak
I can’t believe how easy it is here, no more waking up every morning not knowing what’s going to happen or have cars speeding at crossings to knock you off your bicycle. I could do without the element of surprise. I don’t cross the road at zebra crossings or when it’s the flashing green man—I forgot it’s normal and safe to do so. No conversations with taxi drivers who harass you with the same questions over and over, when all you want to do is listen to your ipod. No spitting, no shoving and pushing and no stress. It’s disorientating, but it sure won’t need long getting used to. People complain about the weather, but I think it’s been good days despite the rain. Life is great, there are high standards and I’d like to rediscover myself and my own standards after years of acceptance. I kind of feel like I’m fresh off the boat. It must be how my grandfather felt when he arrived in Singapore for the first time from Guangzhou.China, Hong Kong, relocation