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.