It’s just before 2 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon in Hong Kong. My husband, Brian, and I are walking quickly through the overcrowded streets, trying desperately to keep up with our friend, who dodges and weaves like a pro.
We finally arrive at the entrance to a tall, thin building and hop into one of the creaky elevators with about 12 other people, exceeding the elevator’s capacity by several hundred pounds. No one seems to notice.
Ascending in the elevator is a surreal experience. At each stop, the elevator doors open onto a scene that seems to pause when the doors open, only to begin again when the doors slide closed.
The first stop is a dance hall, where a crowd of teenagers are bouncing to the beat of techno music. The next stop shows us a glimpse of a smoky pool hall, with pool sharks eyeing the victims stepping out of the elevator. As the elevator shudders to rest again, another dance hall is revealed, this time interrupting a ballroom dance lesson in progress.
When we reach the 25th floor, Brian and I follow our friend off the elevator, down the hallway and into a small caf, whose walls are lined with Chinese comic books.
We join a small group in the corner, shift some tables and chairs around, order some coffee and sit down to play. We’ve arrived at our first board game group, whose members meet once a week to spend hours playing European board games.
People come and go throughout the afternoon and into the evening. Games begin and end, and smiles and nods are shared with all, despite some language barriers. Around 8 p.m. Brian and I declare exhaustion and bid our farewells to those still playing. We descend again to conquer the busy streets of the city, feeling like salmon swimming upstream all the way to the subway station, where the train is waiting to take us home.
Never in the plan
Moving to Hong Kong was never something I had planned to do in my life – in fact, I had to consult a map to find the small “Special Administrative Region” located along the southern coast of China. But when Brian was offered the chance to spend a year in his company’s Hong Kong office, we jumped at the opportunity to live overseas.
Finding ourselves in a city of seven million people, with the majority of the population living within 50 square miles and whose residents speak a language as far removed from English as possible, was definitely an adjustment from our quiet New England life. But as different as it has been, we’ve managed to find unexpected similarities that make things feel more like home.
We currently live on the 37th floor of a “serviced” apartment building, which means that everything from our furniture to our kitchen utensils are provided. We also have a woman who comes in every day to dust and vacuum. She is trying to learn English, so she practices on me if I’m in the apartment when she comes by.
She has two sons who are about my age and, because of this, I think she views Brian and I as extra children for her to take care of. This idea was further confirmed when I caught a cold and was ill for a few days in April. She had heard I was sick from her substitute who had cleaned the apartment the day before, so she bustled in the next day, told me to stay on the couch, and immediately placed her hand on my forehead to test my temperature. I never knew that was a universal “mom” gesture!
Our cleaning woman is just one of the many native Hong Kongers we’ve gotten to know that have given us a glimpse of real Hong Kong life. We just recently attended Brian’s company barbecue, where we found that we could follow the conversation and laugh at jokes made in Chinese, simply by recognizing familiar gestures and descriptions. Despite language barriers, laughter, good food, and friends are universal.
Expats abound
As a financial and shipping hub of Asia, Hong Kong attracts a large number of expats – people who grew up in other parts of the world, but have moved to Hong Kong for business.
In February, I joined a mostly-expat knitting club that meets once a week. The knitting club has become a great source of friendship and support for me – it is easy to connect to my fellow knitters, since we all share the same experience of having to adjust to life in a foreign country.
The small expat community is well-developed in Hong Kong and reminds me of a life in a small town. This feeling is further enforced when we turn on the local news channel that broadcasts in English during the weekday evenings. Just like turning on the 6 p.m. news on WCSH 6 at home, we are growing fond of watching our single news anchor every night at 7 p.m. on Star News Asia.
When our time is up here, I think I’ll be ready to return home to our quiet New England life. But for now, I’m enjoying the adventure, and looking forward to seeing what is behind the elevator doors every time they open.
Erin grew up in Monmouth and Mt. Vernon. Her mom, Chris Chamberlain, and her husband, Joe Moore, live in Monmouth. Her dad, John Harker, and his wife, Deb Parry, live in Mt. Vernon. She graduated from Monmouth Academy in 1999 and graduated from Dartmouth College in 2003 with a degree in environmental studies. She lived with her husband, Brian, in Boston for a year and a half before moving to Hong Kong.
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