Hong Kong, day 1

Concrete jungle is the label it’s given – yet returning home this label had a whole different meaning. As mum and I flew into the airport I expected the windows to turn yellow from the factory emissions, cars and over-production of everything. ‘Made in China’ was the phrase that came to mind, mass production, mass population, endless food, bright lights and shopping. That was what China was in my mind, though Hong Kong tries to disassociate itself from China. Striving for their rightful independence, the people of Hong Kong still share the same language, cultures, traditions, religion and food as their giant neighbour. Though Hong Kong surprised me greatly, greeted by a wave of intense humidity we made our way by MTR, their efficient method of public transport thats system is extremely similar to the English underground – the first sign of British influence I happened to notice.

Arriving at our friends apartment that from the onset appeared quite run down and uncared for compared to their previous two story open air house accompanied by a beautiful pool and garden in Kuala Lumpur. Once inside however it opened up into a rather sweet and tasteful apartment, we soon learnt that the price of everything in Hong Kong, including rent, was ridiculously expensive. The salaries therefore were just as high allowing for the fabulous lifestyles that so many lived there. A $2 million bonus being fairly common amongst bankers and businessmen. Money’s such an interesting concept to me – it does open many doors but it’s a dangerous and never ending path that feeds consumerism and greed – a characteristic that Buddhism frowns upon, ironic almost as it’s the country’s main religion.

Duck and baby greens

We became absorbed in the energy of Hong Kong almost immediately, the rush and bustle of the place took us in with open arms; first greeted by an old friend and with her, a breath of a great comfort Mary J, we relaxed into the new exoticism. The place had a very sentimental value – having grown up internationally the question ‘where are you from’ had always posed interesting to answer; my Chinese heritage was always something that I’ve felt proud of hence sharing that my Grandma’s from Hong Kong was always told with my head held high. This was a chance to connect to the words that I’d repeated countless times. Relatives whom we’d never met were on the phone within hours of arriving. We were taken to one of the most famous restaurants in Hong Kong for dinner, walking into a dining room full of smartly dressed families, couples and businessmen, we felt rather out of place having not changed out of our travel clothes – the beautiful smell of Chinese cuisine quickly banished any sense of embarrassment, though we weren’t particularly hungry, sweet Charsil (bbq pork with a sweet sauce), fresh baby greens and the notorious dish of roasted duck with plum sauce was cleared within 20 minutes.

Bowls of black sesame, sago soup and other yummies

The movement continued and our Chinese relatives had arrived to take us to try local desserts 40 minutes away from the centre of town and into what’s known as the ‘ghetto of HK’ – that didn’t really bother me at all, it added an heir of reality, of course if the Triads had shown up the feelings would’ve been slightly different. We sat around and the conversation flowed from our varied Buddhist beliefs to life in Kuala Lumpur and of course food. One aspect I love about Chinese culture is the unified manner of eating, sharing bowls of sweet black sesame soup with glutinous rice dumplings, warm almond soup and fresh mango with cold sago. Every person has their individual bowl but the food’s communal so every food gets its fair share of praise instead of being claimed by one person as is done in the West.

Fresh mango wrapped in glutinous rice and coconut

We drove home through the long steel underground tunnel over which the dark sea lay; I couldn’t help thinking that drilling the smallest hole in the tunnel would cause the pressure of the water to collapse everything, all the hundreds of cars around us being crushed in an instant – the bar on my respectometer for engineers rose a level. My eyes began drooping as the day took its toll on me and when our heads hit the pillow sleep took over.



Recipe of the day: Black sesame soup
http://chinesefood.about.com/od/desserts/r/black_sesame.htm