The gravitational force that encouraged me to finally sit on my hard desk chair and write this 
blog, which I meant to do a very long time ago (and of course didn’t), are many memories: none of which are here in Chinarrr. Side note: I say China “Chinarrr” while it’s freshly stamped in the back of my brain like gum pressed to the floor, after a three-hour international business lecture with Professor Wai Sum Siu. Why is it that in Hong Kong they don’t pronounce ChinAA the correct way in English, drive on the “right” left side of the road, and why do I have to run to cross every intersection, every time, because the cars are driving up (fast) from the side I’m not expecting? I guess everything is relative, ha? (Ok mom!) God, may You protect my life-long English education, pronunciation, accent, and grammar, as well as my life—that I have a feeling will be shattered here in my overseas experience!
Before I get too carried away, what are the non-Chinarrr memories that prompted me to be writing this blog (finally)? Well, it was one of these ridiculously insignificant and frequent moments in my life when nineteen-year-old, Pepperdine junior me was arguing and wining to her mother: “Mooommmmyyy I can’t believe I did this to myself, why am I going to Hong Kong?! What in the world was I thinking? A different place, a weird room of course, a God-knows who roommate, and oh (my personal favorite), Pepperdine sophomores?!!! AHHHHH!”
Here I am today, finally in Hong Kong, after a long time of wondering exactly how much I was going to regret my decision. Looking out my 14th floor window in an effort to remember a time in my life when I was even a little tiny bit happier, I receive an F for the meaningless attempt! I fail terribly in a struggle to remember a better place I’ve been, kinder people I’ve met, incredible friends I’ve known, and any more fulfilling, breath-taking adventures I’ve experienced. Although, that doesn’t account for the food because I am sick to my stomach here— cafeteria-wise and elsewhere!
Tempted to bullet point every street corner, MTR stop, Chinese hotpots, 7-elevens, and hot club destinations in Lang Kwai Fong—simply everywhere I’ve been—I can’t hide from the fact that all the encounters, episodes, and incidents to occur would not have been as memorable to me had I not been with my foursome-favorite Pepperdiners. Even amongst the one-hundred something something exchange students here in HKBU—from all over France, Germany, Sweden, Finland, Malaysia, Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, and more—I have found a very personal international experience in my four-favs from little old Pepperdine: EL Salvador, Columbia, Israel, and of course my Egyptos!
blog, which I meant to do a very long time ago (and of course didn’t), are many memories: none of which are here in Chinarrr. Side note: I say China “Chinarrr” while it’s freshly stamped in the back of my brain like gum pressed to the floor, after a three-hour international business lecture with Professor Wai Sum Siu. Why is it that in Hong Kong they don’t pronounce ChinAA the correct way in English, drive on the “right” left side of the road, and why do I have to run to cross every intersection, every time, because the cars are driving up (fast) from the side I’m not expecting? I guess everything is relative, ha? (Ok mom!) God, may You protect my life-long English education, pronunciation, accent, and grammar, as well as my life—that I have a feeling will be shattered here in my overseas experience!Before I get too carried away, what are the non-Chinarrr memories that prompted me to be writing this blog (finally)? Well, it was one of these ridiculously insignificant and frequent moments in my life when nineteen-year-old, Pepperdine junior me was arguing and wining to her mother: “Mooommmmyyy I can’t believe I did this to myself, why am I going to Hong Kong?! What in the world was I thinking? A different place, a weird room of course, a God-knows who roommate, and oh (my personal favorite), Pepperdine sophomores?!!! AHHHHH!”
Here I am today, finally in Hong Kong, after a long time of wondering exactly how much I was going to regret my decision. Looking out my 14th floor window in an effort to remember a time in my life when I was even a little tiny bit happier, I receive an F for the meaningless attempt! I fail terribly in a struggle to remember a better place I’ve been, kinder people I’ve met, incredible friends I’ve known, and any more fulfilling, breath-taking adventures I’ve experienced. Although, that doesn’t account for the food because I am sick to my stomach here— cafeteria-wise and elsewhere!
Tempted to bullet point every street corner, MTR stop, Chinese hotpots, 7-elevens, and hot club destinations in Lang Kwai Fong—simply everywhere I’ve been—I can’t hide from the fact that all the encounters, episodes, and incidents to occur would not have been as memorable to me had I not been with my foursome-favorite Pepperdiners. Even amongst the one-hundred something something exchange students here in HKBU—from all over France, Germany, Sweden, Finland, Malaysia, Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, and more—I have found a very personal international experience in my four-favs from little old Pepperdine: EL Salvador, Columbia, Israel, and of course my Egyptos!
So Evyyyy! The sister I never knew about, Evy and I finally meet up in Chinarrr. Not only do most people think we look alike, but Evy is as good (and crazy and vibrant and fun and incredible) as a friend gets. Not only does Evy make my days here race by, she always understands me, even when she is constantly sick fighting alongside her immune system Chinese hotpots and HKBU cafeteria. And Krisyyy! Now Zack is a whole other story because he has a picture with Sharon in his room—yes, and they are shaking hands. Even though we always bicker like an old-married couple over more than simply demographical identifications, Kris has it all—looks like a European, thinks like a Jew, lives like an American, and has this I don’t know from where vibrancy in him! But of course, since I’m from Egypt (and he loves it so much), he imposes on me his very dear and frequent physical exercise: that being¸ farting. And now Mikyyy! Well, without Michael any place is simply bland and tasteless. Anything he says or does tickles me inside and ends with a laugh. He is an expert with everyone and anything, except he calls me an aneuploid—or, bad ploidy! Enough about you guys, I just love you.
What about Hong Kong? It’s one of two things: I have either been here for a day or my whole life, for I have found comfort here that hasn’t hit me anywhere but home. Chinese people are the best—polite, reserved, and insightful, they are somehow full of constant energy. Indeed, their city tells the same story. Streaming lights that seem to last for eternity, buildings that soar to pinch the clouds, and bundles of markets and businesses that outnumber the eight million Hong Kong people themselves, is the essence of their culture. This city is not a world, but a million in one. Victoria Peak was a rare gift packaged in gold with Hong Kong’s technological prominence screaming in the midst of lovely surrounding islands, waters, and this pure sense of nature. So diverse and spectacular, Hong Kong grapples with my mind when I step into Festival Walk’s (mall) Chanel and Polo boutiques to then go eat dinner in a simple Kowloon City Thai restaurant, a district hovered with traditional Chinese cultural extravaganza. Oh dear God, am I really here already… in HONG KONG?
No comments:
Post a Comment