Week Fourteen: Winding down...

Being an English major has its advantages. For starters, while my science-minded friends slave away in labs, my schoolwork normally consists of reading novels. Most of my work involves arguing a well-researched thesis, so I generally don't have to memorize lots of dates, formulas, or figures. And, of course, there's the perk of not dealing with numbers, but lately I've had all sorts of digits running rampant through my consciousness. 3. 1. 10. 8,000. 16. 7. 4. 5.

Three final exams.

One research paper.

Ten days.

Eight thousand miles.

A sixteen hour flight to New York.

A seven hour layover.

A four hour flight to Florida.

Five months- to the date- until graduation.

That's all that's left. A meager handful of very important numbers are the best representatives of the things I can quantify in my last days here. With classes over, I've had a lot of time to become acutely aware that this adventure is coming to an end very, very soon.

But- I'm not in a frame of mind to get philosophical just yet. Finals are fast approaching, so my time these days is limited, and sentimentality will have to wait. As per usual for this time of year, I've been overdosing on holiday cheer. I even spent a slightly obnoxious amount of time foregoing my Moral Leadership readings to make this Elf Yourself video of myself and my friends (click here to see it in all its silly glory).

Random Hong Kong fun: David Blaine, the famous illusionist and street magician, was spotted wandering around Wan Chai last Wednesday! I kept hoping he would make himself disappear, or perform some other really impressive feat ("Watch as I single-handedly resist all of these local middle-aged women who will flock to me because I'm a westerner!"). It didn't happen.

David Blaine in Wan Chai

I managed to take a picture of him, though. It's a bit blurry, and now that I think back on the whole incident, I'm not really sure why I bothered taking the picture. I'm really ambivalent about celebrities, especially ones that I saw on ABC Family Halloween specials when I was 12 years old.

Reminders of the impending (insert whatever consumer-driven/religious holiday you'd prefer) are EVERYWHERE in Hong Kong, and I feel lucky that amidst all the commercialism, I managed to find some worthwhile ways to get my fix of holiday magic. One of my favorite holiday traditions back at Stetson is the annual candlelit Christmas concert that the School of Music presents in Elizabeth Chapel, and I was sad to miss it this year. Luckily, HKBU has a great music department as well, and they performed an excellent collection of holiday songs. Here's their rendition of Handel's Messiah, their concluding number:

My friends and I ventured to the Jade Market and Temple Street Market a few nights ago to do some Christmas shopping, where I managed to cross off almost all of the people on my nice list. There's still a few things I need to pick up, but for the most part, I was able to find amazing items for people back home at unbelievable prices. I'm definitely going to miss the market culture of Hong Kong, where you can basically name your price for an item if you're willing to argue, stand your ground, and walk away.

No pictures of the gifts I bought- I wouldn't want anyone to get a sneak peak!- but check out this little goodie that I picked up for myself. I've been keeping my eyes open for a jade chess set for a while now, because even though I don't play chess that often, I figured it would make a great souvenir that I could keep for years to come.

I FINALLY FOUND ONE, and haggled the seller down to $250HKD (from $500), or around $30USD.

Isn't it pretty? I can't wait to break it in with a good round or two of chess (so if anyone's willing to refresh me on the rules when I get home, please feel free!)

Besides the Christmas concert and shopping, I also indulged in a ticket to see the Disney remake of A Christmas Carol in 3D. Before I regale you with my opinion of the film, I feel that I should mention the fact that I'm a bit particular about certain things that I'm fond of. For instance, I prefer dark chocolate, always; men (not boys) who stand at or above 6'0"; and red wine over white, etc. And when it comes to stories, I prefer well-crafted ones with at least a hint of a dark undertone, which is why I've always loved A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (I'm just not one of those sunshine-and-rainbows-all-the-time kind of readers).

Dickens and I go back. I grew up with the animated Disney version, and was introduced to the original text in junior high. Then, during my second year of college, I took a course on Dickens, and fell even more in love with his ability to weave literary delight using the entire spectrum of human emotion and experience. That being said, I was thrilled that Disney gave the classic another go, and that Jim Carrey would be starring as the humbug (btw, though, when did he claim the corner on the Christmas-villain market?).

Everything about the film impressed me. As would be expected in large Disney projects, the score is phenomenal, and that was only a minor aspect. The 3D aspect was utilized tremendously, from the snowflakes which threatened to whirl right onto you, to the thrill ride over London when Scrooge takes a spin with the Ghost of Christmas Present. But what really impressed me the most was the attention to the gloomy horror of the story, and the way that director Robert Zemeckis so skillfully utilized silence, sound, framing, and 3D to bring that horror to life in a truly terrifying way.

(Sorry to go on and on about this movie- but it put me in a phenomenally good mood. Go see it!)

Gotta run- I have to do some major studying over the next few days so that I can go out on Friday to celebrate my 21st birthday! I must admit, though, that a lot of the fun of these past few anticipatory years has been nullified by the fact that I've been legally drinking since my first day in Hong Kong. And, of course, there's the minor detail of my Moral Leadership final exam on that afternoon (sometimes my life is just a little too ironic...).

I'll be home in ten days, and there's a lot to do between now and then- but I'll do my best to update at least once more before I head home. Thank you for keeping up with my life over the past few months, it's been so much fun to share my stories and pictures with you :)

Week Thirteen: Thanksgiving and Disneyland

From where I'm currently siting in Pacific Coffee, I can hear Frank Sinatra singing something that's dripping with holiday cheer, the scent of coffee fills the air, and tacky fake snowflakes are hanging from the ceiling. My friends and I have claimed our usual spots on the couches and chairs, where our laptops click away on assignments and Facebook chats. A coffee server just walked by to say hello, and commented that we've all been rather quiet today (apparently our holiday cheer normally takes on a louder volume). Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm actually leaving Hong Kong soon, and that everything that seems so normal here is going to be over in 18 more days.

All of the holiday spirit around HK has made me miss home tremendously. I actually think I've been more homesick in the past week than I was during my first month here. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and I've never been away from my family for it until this year. My friend Joey (another American) and I had the idea earlier in the semester to have our own Thanksgiving feast so we could share our holiday traditions with our friends here.

Normally, I roll out of bed sometime around eleven on on Thanksgiving, walk out to the living room to catch the last bits of the Macys parade, and eat a nice big breakfast that will last until dinner is ready. We couldn't watch the parade here, but our day began with a hearty breakfast of omelettes, followed by an afternoon of napping and Arrested Development DVDs. That afternoon, we trekked to the local grocery store in search of the necessities we'd need to prepare our feast. Around seven that evening, we all came together for a great dinner after some extensive planning, hours of cooking, and some clever improvisation (we had to buy thickly sliced turkey from the local deli, since HKBU doesn't trust its students enough to have ovens in the residence halls; also, we used empty beer pitchers to pour gravy).

Devon, Simone, Nicola and Marie preparing mashed potatoes and crepes

My contribution, pumpkin pie

Our Thanksgiving table

Joey, displaying our gravy containers- American ingenuity at its finest.

After our meal, Devon showed everyone how to make hand turkeys. There's something about giving a group of 20-somethings access to crayons and paper that brings out everyone's inner 5-year-old. Between the food, the turkeys, and the pumpkin pie (which apparently isn't popular in other countries?!?), we convinced everyone why being an American is so great for at least one day a year.

All of the hand turkeys

The Thanksgiving group

Of course, no Thanksgiving would be complete without some kind of Christmas movie to end the night. Luckily, someone had Elf on DVD, so we finished our day with a healthy dose of Will Ferrell-infused holiday laughter.

The next day was my friend Nicola's birthday, and she wanted to go to Disneyland to celebrate. Although Disneyworld is only a short distance from Stetson, I haven't bothered to go since I was nine years old; suffice it to say, the shortage of Disney magic in my life revealed itself as we neared the park. I firmly believe that if China can pump chemicals into the air to make snow fall, then Disneyland could very possibly be pumping endorphins into the air. Whether or not that's actually the case, I found myself smiling and giggling like I was nine years old again from the moment I stepped through the gate.

Our group in front of Cinderella's castle

Disneyland reminded me of Magic Kingdom (well, from what I remember of it, at least). We found Space Mountain and rode that three times; took a spin on the carousel; took a faster spin in the Mad Hatter teacups; and my friend Stefan and I floated through a Christmas-themed replication of It's A Small World. We even found Buzz Lightyear!

All of us, posed with the Galactic Alliance's strongest member

A few months ago, a friend of mine from high school emailed me to let me know that his ship was going to be stationed in HK over Thanksgiving weekend. I hadn't seen my friend Fraley since I was in 9th grade and we had drama class together, so it was wonderful to catch up with each other.

Fraley and I posing with Merlin

By the end of the day, we were all excited to see the Christmas tree lit up and to see the fireworks show. I tried to take pictures, but they didn't turn out quite right; so enjoy this short video.

I don't know if it was the Disney magic or all the holiday spirit floating in the air, but I can't describe how happy I was to share this weekend with good friends, new and old.

Merry Christmas!

Week Twelve: Buddhas, Roommate Bonding, and Christmas in the Kong

I don't know that much about Buddhism, but Buddhas are hard to avoid when you live in Hong Kong. During my time here, I've stood in the shadow of the largest Buddha statue on earth, read The Dharma Bums (which is a wonderful mixture of Buddhism, self-discovery, and Kerouac's notoriously brilliant prose), and this week, I ventured to the Temple of 10,000 Buddhas.

The Temple of 10,000 Buddhas

The path leading to the Temple

The journey to the actual Temple spans a considerable uphill climb, which is lined with (literally) thousands of unique Buddha statues. Among the many figures, there are so many differences- some have long beards, some appear happy, others appear to be deep in thought, and some towards the end of the trail were downright frightening. My favorite statues, though, were the ones that seemed to invite visitors to take advantage of their poses. Along the path, my friends and I stopped to take touristy pictures.

Shaking hands with a very diplomatic Buddha

Buddha, trying to get reception

One of the most interesting things to observe here has been the different social habits of local and exchange students. While it's no secret that exchange students generally go out to drink socially more often than local students, there still exists a veil of uncertainty regarding what both groups actually do once they leave the residence halls.

HKBU doesn't allow us to have alcohol on campus, so generally, if no one wants to go downtown to enjoy the drink specials in Lan Kwai Fong or SoHo, we'll venture to the local 7-11, buy a can or two of cheap beer, and hang out in the park. It's completely legal to do so, too, which is a refreshing change from the laws back home, where popping open a can of beer outside of a convenience store is the fastest way to be labeled as a degenerate of society.

One night, as I was aimlessly Facebook stalking my friends back home, my friend Gabriela poked her head into my room. "Get up, Nat. We're going to the park."

"Who is involved in this 'we'?"

"Our roommates." My roommate, Vera, poked in her head, followed by Gabriela's roommate Melody.

I couldn't put my hoodie on fast enough. Despite the cold, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to show Vera and Melody what being an exchange student is like on a typical non-party night.

First stop: 7-11.

Me, Vera, Melody, and Gabriela

We spent the next few hours in the park, where we were joined by a few more of our hall's residents. After a few sips of beer, Gabriela and I found ourselves in the middle of an impromptu Tai Chi lesson. If drinking in the park and learning Chinese martial arts isn't the epitome of culture blending, I don't know what is.

Tsingtao + Tai Chi = success.

With the arrival of cold weather and the end of November drawing near, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas here in the Kong. Walking through the halls of campus is like walking through an endless sea of sweaters and scarves, end-of-semester assignments are coming dangerously close to their deadlines, and the mall is decked out in holiday decorations.

The three-story Christmas tree at Festival Walk

In light of the holiday spirit, my friends and I decided to visit the ice rink at the mall (because doing so earlier in the semester would have seemed ironically inappropriate, given the unbearable heat that has only recently subsided).

Devon, Jemelyn, Nicola and me at the Festival Walk ice rink

I think ice skating is like learning to ride a bike; once you learn how to do it right (or well enough to not fall over every few seconds), you don't really forget how it works. Coincidentally enough, I learned to ice skate when I was four years old and lived in Maine. My mom insisted on enrolling me into lessons, though I was too busy standing in the corner of the rink and complaining about being cold to learn anything more advanced than basic gliding. Luckily, my dismally noncompliant days of ice skating lessons came through for me, and I managed to stay upright for almost the entire night (unfortunately, my competitive nature came through, as well, and I took a pretty nasty tumble while trying to get a head start in a race with my friend Devon).

Next week should be exciting- some of the other Americans and I are planning to celebrate Thanksgiving together. Although I hate that I won't be home for my favorite holiday, I'm thankful for this experience, and for all of the wonderful people that I've been able to share it with.

Week Eleven: ....STUDYING abroad?

I live by the 'work hard, play hard' philosophy, and to be quite honest, I've worked MUCH harder than I've played for my entire life.

One of my mom's favorite stories about my childhood is that I couldn't wait to start kindergarten so that I could start earning a 'college trip' (translation, for those of you who didn't know me when I was a pint-sized, pigtailed, four-year-old: scholarship). In high school, I worked two part time jobs during my senior year, while taking two college- level classes and completing the final stages of my hunt for the perfect university. During my sophomore year of college, I took my 'work hard' philosophy to an unhealthy extreme by committing to three jobs on campus. Ironically enough, one of those jobs was as a Resident Assistant, and the theme for my residence hall was Wonder Woman- I think I was subconsciously channeling the image I was trying to fulfill for myself to the thirty girls whose door plates featured pictures of the spandex-clad superhero.

Hong Kong has been a much-needed break from all of that. For the first time in my adult life, I've been able to play as hard as I'd like to because I'm not employed anywhere, I don't have a terribly demanding class schedule, and my work load has been significantly lower than what I have grown to expect from my professors back home. If there's one thing that should be clear by now, from my posts about boat parties, trips to other parts of China, and anecdotes about nights out with my friends, it's this: I have a life.

This week, though, my social life had to take a back seat to the life I'll be coming home to (very soon, might I add). If all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, then all play and no work makes Natalie a second-semester senior with bad grades and no journalism internship. And, quite frankly, I'm not about to let that happen.

Want to see what I've been up to lately?

Since everything is crossed out, here's the synopsis: "Moral Leadership midterm, group project preparation, finalize work agreement for next semester, go to the gym, work on communications assignment, sort through old articles, work on internship applications, correct resume, attend lecture from HKBU's Pulitzer Prize Winners Week, study for Hollywood Cinema midterm, Matt's birthday party."

Or, in other words:

Real life: 10

Social life: 1 (To be fair, though, the sole representative for Team Social Life had a stellar performance this week, thanks to the combined efforts of everyone who wanted our friend Matt, a fellow American, to have an American-style 21st birthday. Who cares that the legal age here is 18?).

Basically, this week has reminded me that studying abroad isn't always glamorous and exciting. Sure, last week I went to Beijing- but this week I had to study for a midterm, prepare a presentation, and compile my resume for upcoming internship application deadlines. For the past few months, I've had the luxury of viewing my workouts as a way to kill some time and get back in shape- but this week I genuinely needed those hour-long retreats at the gym just so I could clear my head of all the other things listed in my planner. Friday nights are normally designated for exploring the night life of Hong Kong with my friends, but sometimes we just raid one of the residence hall lounges and watch True Blood.

Even when assignments pile up and the stress chocolate comes out, though, I'm completely happy with my life here. College life is college life, no matter the latitude and longitude it takes place in- if I was back in DeLand, I'd be going through similar situations at this point in the semester. Instead of drafting cover letters in Pacific Coffee, I'd be setting up shop in a corner of Boston Coffee. If I wasn't watching True Blood with my friends to unwind late at night, I'd be watching trashy reality TV in the Pi Phi chapter room with my sorority sisters.

Maybe it sounds exotic to say that I'm currently living in Hong Kong, but pretty beaches and impressive skyscrapers can't rescue me from deadlines. I'm glad for that, though. After playing hard for 2 1/2 months, I don't mind working hard until the last few reminders are crossed out of my planner.

There's a note that says 'going home' on December 21. I just hope I can see and experience everything I want to before I have to cross it out.

Week Ten: Beijing

A few years ago, I learned about the importance of skepticism in a journalism class with Andy Dehnart. On an ordinary afternoon in his classroom, he handed out a piece of paper which is still tucked safely away amidst the papers and articles that I've deemed to be worth holding on to. It said:

"Skepticism is a weapon. It deflects spin, propaganda, P.R., B.S., press agents, publicity seekers, hearsay, unnamed sources, and anyone with a hidden agenda. Skepticism is that little voice that tells you you'll never be a millionaire with little or no money down. Skepticism is that sneaking suspicion that all aspirin are alike. Skepticism is a quality shared by truth seekers, freethinkers, and realists. Skepticism demands proof and facts be unsanitized, uncensored, and unembellished. Skepticism makes the world accountable. Skepticism is a virtue."

I hadn't really consciously thought about that quote since I've been here in Hong Kong, until I sat down to write this post about my experience in Beijing. Amidst the grandeur of a city that boasts visual reminders of the extraordinary potential of human achievement, I found myself face-to-face with reminders of why skepticism is important.

Upon arriving in Beijing and checking into our hostel (the Beijing Heyuan International Youth Hostel, which I would highly recommend to anyone who appreciates a warm bed, friendly service, and a safe, affordable place to stay), my friend Lauren and I set out to meet with our friends who had already arrived in the city the day before. We decided to meet at the Olympic Green, where the 2008 Olympics took place. Despite the cold weather and mild rain, we navigated our way through the subway system, excited to be reunited with our traveling companions. When we arrived at our stop and left the station, though, we were confronted with a bit of a dilemma on how to find everyone. After about 20 minutes of wandering around, we were told to "look for the McDonalds by the big blue building." Of course, looking back now, it's funny that the only way we could find each other was to meet at one of the most recognizable symbols of Western culture.

We spent the next hour catching up over Big Macs and french fries before taking the obligatory tourist picture in front of the Birds Nest and heading back to our hostel. Our plan for the next morning was to visit the Great Wall, so we turned out the light in our 8-person room that night at a modest hour so that we would all be ready for our first big adventure together.

The morning dawned crisp and bright- autumn had definitely arrived in Beijing. Around 10AM, we set out to find the bus station which would take us to the Great Wall. Unfortunately, this task turned out to be much more frustrating than we could have ever anticipated. Though we were fully aware of how obviously foreign we looked, we weren't prepared for the level of deception we encountered. As we looked for the bus station, we were told by several people, "Oh no, there's no bus to the great wall after 10AM, you'll have to take a private taxi. And even if you could find a bus, it would charge you 50 yuan to get there. Here, I'll take you for 40 each, just get in my van over here..."

This assertion, of course, seemed particularly suspicious considering that (a) the Great Wall is arguably China's most popular tourist attraction, (b) there's absolutely no logic to a public transportation system that stops running after 10AM, and (c) none of the individuals encouraging us to get into their vans had the proper taxi driver identification. Eventually, we found the bus station, but we ended up wasting about 20 minutes in the wrong line (even though we were assured that 'Oh yes, this is the line for the bus to the Wall!') before finally finding the bus we were looking for. When we boarded, though, all of the seats were full; so for the next hour, we stood in the aisle after paying our 12 yuan fare.

Arriving at the Badaling entrance to the Great Wall was something I will always remember. After investing in some gloves from a local vendor, we started our journey of walking along one of the world's most impressive remnants of history. The weather was perfect, the sky was clear and blue, and as we walked, we shed our layers of sweaters to embrace the autumn air. We stopped to take in the scenery in the comfortable silence that only ever happens in the presence of good friends. To put it plainly: the Great Wall is every bit as breathtaking, impressive, and beautiful as it looks in pictures.

By the time we returned from the Great Wall, we were hungry and in desperate need of sustenance, so we stopped at the first restaurant we saw once we left the subway station near our hostel (which happened to be a Pizza Hut- again with the Western culture thing...). Afterward, we headed downtown to explore Beijing's nightlife on Halloween.

Unfortunately, our goal of finding a nice bar where we could relax, take in a drink or two, and just enjoy each other's company turned out to be harder to achieve than we had planned for. The first bar that we tried was absolutely awful. You would think that an establishment that serves alcoholic beverages would know that vodka is generally supposed to be included in a vodka tonic, but I'm fairly certain that only a few drops (at most) made it into my cup. Conversely, though, some of the girls ordered Mai Tais which were completely undrinkable because they had too much alcohol. We all watched our friend Devon sipping from his modest can of Sprite with complete envy.

That little can of Sprite ended up costing more than he'd bargained for, though, as we found out upon our attempt to leave. Those of us who had ordered drinks from the bar paid our tabs (about 40-45 yuan each). The bartender informed Devon that his drink was 40 yuan, to which he (understandably) insisted that there was no way a can of Sprite cost the same as a Mai Tai, and demanded to see a menu. The bartender's response was "Oh, we don't have a menu" (which was untrue) and "Sorry, it's just more expensive today" (which was infuriating, to say the least). After a few minutes of heated debate, the situation diffused. The boys returned to the hostel, and us girls optimistically tried another bar (which served equally unimpressive drinks, though they were at least reasonably priced). As we sat in our booth, we noticed flurries of snow falling outside. Despite the frustration and anger we felt towards the discrimination we experienced in trying to visit the wall and at the other bar, we couldn't contain our laughter.

I woke the next morning to my friend Nicola saying, "Hey, guys? Look outside. It's snowing."

Sure enough, we were present for the first official snowfall of the season, which lasted well into the afternoon. Though we were vastly underprepared for the cold weather, we donned our layers of sweaters and jackets to go see the Temple of Heaven, a cluster of Taoist temples that date back to the Ming and Qing dynasties.

Everyone besides Lauren and I left that afternoon to catch their flights back to Shenzhen, so the two of us spent the rest of the day lounging around the warm, dry hostel. After all, our experience with the 'nightlife' didn't exactly leave us pining for more poorly-made drinks in bad bars, anyway.

During our final day in Beijing, we saw Tian'anmen Square, which was a surreal experience. I remember learning about the 'June 4 incident' (as it's called by the Chinese government, who still purports that only 241 casualties arose from the massacre) in high school, and to see the site where thousands of students and protestors stood up to the military force imposed on them by the government was a visceral moment that I'm not sure how to explain. I stood before the Monument to the People's Heroes, where the protests began; I saw, with my own eyes, the massive Square where hundreds of thousands gathered in the name of democracy.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of tourists and street vendors, I could almost hear the echoes of what happened 20 years before.

By the time we finished walking through Tian'anmen Square and the outer courts of the Forbidden City, Lauren and I had just enough time to go back to the hostel and grab our belongings before departing for the airport to come back to HK.

Landing in Hong Kong felt like coming home, which isn't altogether surprising, considering I've lived here for 2 1/2 months now; nonetheless, it made me think a lot about what 'home' really means to me. I grew up in a Navy family, so until we moved to Florida, I didn't really have a set 'home' because we were moving every year or two. For me, though, coming home is a process that always brings the comfort of returning to what I know as familiar and true. And I guess in that way, coming home to Hong Kong was all of those things in comparison to my visit to Beijing. Sure, the thrill of seeing a new city is rooted in its unfamiliarity; but the layout of the city wasn't what seemed so alien to me.

I was more surprised that in a city which just last year hosted people from all over the world for the Olympics, foreigners are still blatantly discriminated against. I was still shocked that the government placed blocks on so much of the internet- I was able to access my gmail account at the hostel, but not my blog, Twitter, or Facebook accounts (though that shouldn't really surprise me, I suppose, considering that the government doesn't even allow Google to show any reports about what really happened at Tian'anmen Square besides those written by the party's media outlets). Most disappointing, though, was the discovery that even the snow wasn't real. It was chemically induced by the government.

I enjoyed seeing all of the sites in Beijing, but maybe ignorance really is bliss. I was happier when this picture was taken than I am now, knowing that the first snowflake to land on my tongue in over ten years was a product of the government.

Week Nine: Is This Real Life?

I'm on the downward slope of my time here, and I feel like I can relate a lot to this little guy at this point in my life:

I fell in love with this video over the summer for several reasons. Obviously, for starters, the kid is adorable- as an aunt to two nieces and two nephews, I have a soft spot for cute kids. Second, and probably more significantly, I practically grew up in a dentist chair. I was on the receiving end of more unfortunate dental injuries than I'd care to list; I remember that feeling of confusion and disorientation a little too well. Finally, though- and here's the kicker- this video cracks me up because I'm privy to some knowledge that young David wasn't aware of: it's all temporary. He probably went home, took a nap, and woke up completely aware of his surroundings again. He'll probably watch this video when he's older and laugh just as much as I did (assuming, of course, that he doesn't develop some kind of complex that skews how child Youtube stars view their own funny moments further down the road).

The point is- and I promise this is all going somewhere- I've realized this week just how temporary this whole experience really is. For 2 1/2 months now, everything has looked different. I wake up in the morning to different views, different ways of seeing the world around me. It all seems similar enough to what I know that I can recognize it more or less, but I still find myself wondering, is this real life? And is everyone watching me, smiling, maybe even chuckling, waiting for me to grow up enough to see how adorably, naively silly I look?

The temporality of my Asian pseudo-life isn't the only factor in this internal questioning, though. I think my awareness of the finite aspect of my time here is heightened by the fact that I just registered for my final semester at Stetson the other night. Why did I ever think that four months here would pass any slower than the blink of the past three years? Further, who was I kidding when I thought that coming here would distract me from the fact that I'm graduating in 6 1/2 months? I can't just coast through this semester on dreams of spring break and summer. I have to find an internship, write my senior research paper, and figure out what I'm going to do with my life once Pomp & Circumstance stops playing.

Don't get me wrong- I'm genuinely excited about testing the waters of journalism outside of The Reporter and this humble little blog of mine. My perennial independence streak is looking forward to life after college. I'm even looking forward to senior research (which might be further proof that I really am on some kind of mind-altering plane of existence, like our gap-toothed friend). For now, though, I can't reconcile what I know, what I see, and how I feel. I feel funny, and no matter how many people say "it's ok, buddy," I can't fully grasp what being ok looks like in comparison to what I see all around me.

David dealt with everything by screaming. I guess this post counts as my equivalent. I'll look back on this and laugh.

...right?

Week Eight: Ocean Park, Lamma Island, and Beginner's Luck

One thing I've learned from my college experience is how to lead parallel lives. Up until now, I've managed to juggle two pretty well. There's the first one that I've had since June 1, 1998, the day our family minivan chugged across the Florida border and into Jacksonville. Over the eleven years since then, I developed what I'll refer to as my 'main' life- the one that includes my family, friends from high school, teenage jobs, dirt roads and small town gossip. It's colored with starry nights on my front porch and a sleepy, reliable sense that nothing will ever change much.

Then there's my 'Stetson' life, the one I started in August of 2006. Though it also takes place in a small town, its rhythm is completely different. The characters in this life have shifted with every season, from the professors who have evolved into friends to the sorority sisters who have long since graduated. This life is one marked by early mornings printing out assignments in The Reporter office, afternoons spent reading in the quad with a blanket and a drink from the Starbucks kiosk, and nights spent in the chapter room of Sorority House 1 and the hallways of various fraternities. It's a life that's both blessed and cursed with constant change, where summers only served to make the distance between May and August seem further, where you overhear stories of heartbreak, midterm stress, and freshman gossip from strangers in the cafeteria.

The one thing that unites these lives is that neither one seems to be fully real. They're mutually exclusive, and though at times they resonate the same themes, their orbits never cross. I'm not fully invested in either, nor both; geographically, they take place far enough apart to cement their uniqueness, yet close enough to escape from one to the other when I need to. After six semesters of moving back and forth between the two, literally and figuratively, I learned how to balance them almost perfectly.

This year, though, I've added another life to the mix with my decision to study here in Hong Kong. I've had to fully invest myself into my life here, because being 8,000 miles away from everything I've ever known doesn't offer any other option. That being said, I was interested in seeing how my mother's visit, marking the mixture of my life here with my main life from home, would play out.

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Last Friday, my mother and her boyfriend, Denis, arrived at Hong Kong International Airport for a ten-day visit. While I was waiting in the arrival gate for them to claim their bags and go through their customs check, I realized that their visit would be a real test of how well I've managed to acclimate myself to Hong Kong. They were coming in with virtually no knowledge of the customs, social norms, and layout of the city, leaving their enjoyment (not to mention basic survival) to me. Luckily, I had been filling my planner with possible day trips and night activities for them, and I included some Hong Kong hot spots that I hadn't experienced yet so that we could share the fun.

On Tuesday, I decided to skip my only class and take my visitors to Ocean Park. It's one of the two major amusement parks in HK, the other being Disneyland (which doesn't seem like an appealing option at all, considering Stetson is within an hour of Disneyworld and I haven't bothered going since I was nine years old).

An aerial view of Ocean Park

A lot of local students and other exchange friends had told me it was a fun way to spend an afternoon, so we checked it out. It's pretty similar to Sea World in Orlando- its main attractions include a show that features trained water animals (dolphins, seals, etc) performing tricks with their trainers, a few rides, overpriced souvenirs, you get the idea.

Dolphins at play at the Ocean Theatre

The most exciting part of the day, though, was the live panda exhibit. When we walked through the panda habitat the first time, both were asleep; but before we left, I insisted that we should walk through one more time to see if they were awake. Sure enough, both were not only awake, but moving around, too! If you want to see exactly what they were doing, watch my video from last week's post.

Panda!

Unfortunately, I had to focus on my classes and homework for most of Wednesday and Thursday, but we made up for it by spending all of Friday on Lamma Island, one of the many outlying islands of Hong Kong that is famous for its fresh seafood. After taking the ferry to the Yung Shue Wan village, we spent the afternoon walking around the quiet paths that lead through the village's downtown area lined with shops and restaurants to the peaceful beach.

The beautiful shore of Lamma Island

For dinner, we stopped at Man Fung Seafood Restaurant, located right on the water by the pier. The fare was so fresh it was still alive- literally. Their seafood catches are kept alive in tanks, and we were allowed to pick what we'd like to eat and how it would be prepared. My mother, a Baltimore native who was raised on blue crabs, was overwhelmed with the size of the captives and insisted on having one steamed and brought to our table.

Mom: "Oh, she's beautiful!"

Me: "Could you not say something like that about our dinner, considering 'she' was alive about ten minutes ago?"

We also ordered stir fried vegetables, fresh steamed rice, and fried prawns. All of the food was unbelievably delicious- it was definitely one of my favorite meals so far in Hong Kong, and I was happy to have my mother and Denis there to share it with.

The largest prawns I've ever seen in my life.

A few weeks ago, I went to Macau and came back home without stopping at any of its famous casinos to try my luck with gambling- so, on Saturday, I suggested a day trip so that they could see the sights and I could try to make friends with ol' Lady Luck. Upon arrival, we hired a tour guide who offered to show us the same major tourist stops I saw with my friends. Before we went anywhere, though, we stopped at a charming local restaurant called Praia Grande, which offered a delicious array of Portuguese-style dishes (Macau was a Portuguese colony for several hundred years before being handed over to the People's Republic of China). We feasted on tapas (including breaded stuffed mussels, samosas, baked sardines, fresh bread with roasted garlic, and Portuguese sausages), spicy African chicken, and Macanese chicken which was served with fresh rice and a creamy coconut sauce.

After our meal, we proceeded on to the tour. Surprisingly, I actually really enjoyed seeing the same sights again- I think my mother's excitement rubbed off on me. Plus, the weather was absolutely gorgeous (I've been waiting for sweater weather to hit Hong Kong for months now, and it's finally beginning to cool off). We asked our guide to drop us off at The Venetian at the end of our tour so we could find our fortunes.

I wanted to show my mom the Canal Shops, located on the floors just above the casino, so we looked around for a bit. Unfortunately, I have a very difficult time walking past 'Sale!' signs for certain stores, Lacoste being one of them. Ten minutes and $295 later, I walked out with a pair of pink and white shoes. We hadn't even started gambling yet and I was already down almost $300 (though I justified the purchase with the fact that I genuinely 'needed' a good pair of walking shoes, and mom and Denis hadn't really let me pay for anything all week).

After grabbing a quick dinner at McDonalds, we proceeded downstairs to the casino (cue the 'typical Americans' eyeroll all you want, the ones here are cheaper and are of a significantly better quality). I've never been to Vegas, and the only times I've ever bet were with my brother's high school friends when they would take over our living room with the poker table on Friday nights, and that one time at Happy Valley; so it was kind of exciting to walk into the throes of bright lights, free beer, and shuffling cards. We tracked down one of the free-beer waitresses and set up shop at the slot machines.

I watched mom and Denis for about fifteen minutes, taking mental notes of what they were doing and the tips that mom was throwing my way before I found an empty seat to try my hand at winning money. To put it simply, I lost $50 a little quicker than I intended to. I should probably mention that I was on the $1 slot machines, too.

To my left, I saw a game called Jade Monkey that was advertised as "$0.05 per bet." I quickly relocated, and inserted a $100 bill- I mean, for .05 a bet, why not? With 2,000 credits to my name, I started playing. The first few rounds consisted of me failing miserably while I figured out how the game worked; once I got the hang of it, though, I did pretty well. Before I knew it, my credit count was over 3,000- within a half hour, I had already earned half of what I started with. Mom came over to watch and cheer me on.

Time went by, and before I even realized it, mom was tapping me on the shoulder with a concerned look on her face. "Honey, we need to go buy our ferry tickets to go back to Hong Kong- it's already 9:30."

"One more minute, mom... If I get back around 3,000 I'll cash out and we can go." I was hovering around 3,500 credits as I spoke.

A few minutes later, she returned to nudge me again. I had 2,750 credits. "What happened to 3,000 credits, Natalie....?"

"One more round. Just give me five more minutes, I want to try to get the bonus round one more time before we go."

Within a minute, I managed to get a bonus round, and with bated breath I watched as the game took 15 spins for me. With each spin, I gained 40 credits (my current bet, which the machine matched for every round if I didn't win more). Suddenly, though, one of the rolls caused my machine to light up, and the numbers started spinning faster than I could follow with my wide, excited eyes.

The final credit count was over 6,000. I hit the 'collect' button and hurried to the collection counter with my winning ticket. My payout was $295.50- just 0.50 more than what I had paid earlier for my shoes. If that isn't fate rewarding me for my purchase, I don't know what is.

My Lacoste receipt and my winning ticket- I'm richer by $0.50!

My rewards from the day: new shoes and almost $300!

My mom left yesterday morning, and is safely back home. As for me, I'm busy studying for midterms (read: blogging instead of reading), looking up internships for next semester (read: trying to remain calm and hoping I'll find something), and trying not to focus on the fact that I'm leaving in two months (read: reeling in shock that I'm already halfway through my time here). I miss both of my other lives, but I'm having too much fun living this one to let it go yet.

With love from this life to everyone in my others,

Natalie

Week Seven: ...will just have to wait.

Me, with my mom and her boyfriend, Denis, at Victoria Peak

Sorry to do this, but I'm going to roll this past week's updates into next week's post- because my mom and her boyfriend, Denis, are here!

I also have a lot of things to do in the next few days, so I'll wait until I have a bit more time to give all of you a post worth reading.

In the meantime, feel free to check out this fun video of a panda I saw at Ocean Park yesterday- consider it my truce offering.

See you next week :)

Panda dump. from Natalie Wearstler on Vimeo.

Week Six: National Day of the PRC and Night Hiking on Lantau Island

I really, really like fireworks.

Apparently, so does the People's Republic of China.

This past Thursday (October 1) was the PRC National Day, and a celebratory fireworks show was scheduled for that night at the harbor. My friends and I, of course, didn't hesitate to hop on the MTR and join the mass of people at the Tsim Sha Tsui exit to witness the impressive display of fire and color set against the gorgeous skyline. Unfortunately, my camera couldn't quite capture any quality images, but here's a short video of what we saw. The show was absolutely incredible; it put the annual fireworks show at The Jacksonville Landing to shame.

Victoria Harbor, after the PRC National Day fireworks show

Photo credit: Jemelyn Yadao

After the show, we proceeded to celebrate with other exchange students and locals alike at Lan Kwai Fong, which is always a popular Thursday night hot spot for its ladies night specials. Rest assured, a great night was had by all (especially your humble narrator).

Since most weekends start off with the aforementioned debauchery in LKF, I suspected that the rest of the weekend would follow in suit: a nice, easy, class-free Friday that would include happy hour in SoHo, maybe some more socializing on Saturday night, and perhaps a trip to the beach or a part of the city that I hadn't seen yet on Sunday. I couldn't have been more wrong.

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"The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago..."

-Jack Kerouac, from The Dharma Bums

Photo credit: Victor Lcte

Here, I feel the need to give you some personal context, just so you can appreciate the rest of this story. I like the feeling of being outside and getting in touch with nature, but I'm not exactly what you would call an overly outdoors-y person. I was in Girl Scouts for all of two weeks when I was younger, so it's not like I'm particularly knowledgeable about trekking into the wilderness. 'Camping' in my family meant setting up shop at a KOA (and 'roughing it' entailed renting an RV if all of the Kamping Kabins were already booked). When I was four, I was interviewed during one of our many KOA trips by a local newscaster, and I told her that my favorite part of camping was 'swimming and playing basketball and s'mores.' The last time I went hiking was two years ago in New Mexico, and one wrong choice at a path turned into a 12-mile journey that spanned over 8 hours. My brushes with nature tend to be few and far between.

That being said, though, I felt the need to break out of the concrete jungle on Saturday. I decided to go hiking with my friends Gabriela, Victor, Aymeric, and Robert. We decided to check out a trail in Lantau Island that Aymeric had researched. It seemed tame enough; however, the boys wanted to make a 3-day trip out of completing it. Gabriela and I decided that we'd go for the day, but then come back that night.

Unfortunately, we didn't start our journey until about 3:30 PM. By the time we walked to the MTR station, unloaded at Central piers, hopped on a ferry, and landed at the island, it was already 5:30. With only an hour of daylight ahead of us, we were forced to change our plan (which didn't really exist).

Our first idea was to rent a hotel room, sleep for a few hours, then get up around 2:00 AM to start hiking, putting us at the top of Lantau Peak just in time for the sunrise. Unfortunately, we had forgotten that the Mid-Autumn Festival was taking place, and there wasn't a single spare room on the island. After a few minutes of discussing our options, we decided to just start hiking anyway- after all, that night happened to have the brightest full moon of the year, and several locals reassured us that we didn't need to worry about any dangerous animals attacking us in the woods. Our plan having been decided, we stopped at a local grocery store to pick up some provisions- more water, granola bars for breakfast, and bread, cheese, grapes, and wine for our dinner (I should probably mention that Victor and Aymeric are French). Having packed our bags, we asked a local resident to take our picture before we departed for the trail's beginning.

Me, Robert, Gabriela, Victor, and Aymeric at the start of our adventure

Photo credit: Aymeric De Guerre

The walk to the trail afforded us the opportunity to witness what the locals do to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival. We noticed a music festival taking place on one of the beaches, and several people were relaxing on the beach, lighting traditional candles and enjoying the company of friends and family as the sounds of Chinese music and Red Hot Chili Peppers cover songs alike filled the air.

Local residents lit candles in celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival

Photo credit: Aymeric De Guerre

After walking through several villages, we finally found the start of the trail. To be honest, my nerves were already on edge; as we embarked deeper and deeper into the darkness of the island, away from all the lights and music and candles (and people), I felt a relentless twinge of panic that I tried (unsuccessfully) to repress. I was convinced that we were setting ourselves up for a low-budget horror film fate. Surely, our story of naive adventure and untimely death by ravenous Asian beasts and/or gangsters would make its way into the hands of some indie-film director and we'd be the subjects of next year's Sundance Film Festival 'Grand Jury Prize: Documentary' award.

We were standing at the edge of the trail, and Aymeric couldn't contain his excitement. 'This is going to be legendary!'

I really wanted to believe him, but then I saw this guy. I wasn't so sure.

I told the boys that if they saw anything scary (like spiders) to either kill them or don't tell me. Of course, they disregarded my request within the first five minutes.

Photo credit: Victor Lcte

It was too late to turn back now, though. I kept telling myself that there was no reason to be afraid. After all, the earth is exactly the same at night as it is during the day; it's just darker (and scarier, and more foreboding, and slightly apocalyptic-looking...). With each step forward, though, I began to relax. We all did. The miles and hours passed in no time, as we shared stories about our childhoods, our families, our first drinking experiences, our first kisses, and other such necessary bonding tales. Despite how different our backgrounds and cultures were, we found that we had more in common than the breathtaking views of the island that we were seeing together in the light of the full moon.

Around 1 AM or so, we stumbled upon some seemingly abandoned houses on the side of the mountain. A couple was camped out on one of the porches, and greeted us as we passed by. We stopped to chat with them for a few minutes, and they told us that the houses were all locked, but that we were welcome to sleep on one of the other porches. The house we ended up finding didn't have a porch, but it at least offered a wall that would 'protect' us from the wind.

To put it lightly, we were miserably underprepared for the next several hours. Luckily, we had brought our ponchos that HKBU provided us with, so we unsnapped them and laid them out as a barrier between us and the ground, broke out the food and wine, and proceeded to eat while we continued to laugh and enjoy each other's company and the view. Our plan was to then get a few hours of sleep, wake up for the sunrise, and trek down the mountain in the morning.

Unfortunately, that 'few hours of sleep' idea never came to fruition. None of us had considered how cold and windy it would be. Between the five of us, we had three full size towels and a hand towel. After a few minutes, we added one of the ponchos to our meager excuses for blankets, though it did little besides block the wind. We huddled together for warmth, but it didn't help much. Aymeric kept saying things like "If you fall asleep, it means you're dying, and you're getting hypothermia, and remember in Titanic? Everyone fell asleep before they died." I don't think his logic was quite on par with the reality of the situation, but nonetheless, no one really slept for more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time.

I made the observation that we looked like refugees. Notice the poncho blanket, backpack pillow, and hand towel leg warmers.

Photo credit: Aymeric De Guerre

Around 6:30 AM, the first rays of sun begin to form on the horizon, and we all more-or-less shook ourselves into some semblance of alertness in hopes that the rising sun would bring some relief from the bitter cold.

The first trace of sunlight rising over Lantau Peak

Photo credit: Aymeric De Guerre

The sunrise was absolutely stunning. Despite my stiff limbs, fatigue, and general disdain for the ungodly hour we were currently awake for, I felt incredibly happy. Watching the sun rise over the mountains of Lantau Island was a sight I'll never forget.

Packed and ready to hike down the mountain, circa 7:00 AM

We packed up our makeshift camp and started down the mountain towards the main road, where we caught a bus to the MTR station. After feasting on a nice, hot breakfast, Gabriela, Robert and I headed back to HKBU while Aymeric and Victor stayed behind, insistent on finishing the trail we started.

I came back to my room and slept in my nice, warm bed, with my nice, soft pillows, in my nice, warm room. I'd successfully managed to see the other side of the concrete jungle, and lived to tell the story. And I'd actually enjoyed every second of it- even the ones spent shivering under a poncho.

Maybe there's hope for me becoming an outdoors-y person, yet.