Dreaming of Neon

The only other Asian city we visited before Hong Kong was Singapore (November 2015), and thinking back on that trip and the friendly chit-chat we received from the staff at Changi, I might have expected the same level of—I don’t know—cheeriness, when we landed at Hong Kong International Airport. “Good morning!” I said to the Customs Officer who looked at me with blank eyes. “Good morning!” I said to the Immigration Officer. Same blank stare. Still nothing.

It’s funny, because I don’t normally greet people like this. I’m not cheerful. [Sound of disgust.] Not in the morning. Not without coffee yet. When one of the personnel at Changi Airport greeted me good morning with a big smile, I frowned, suspicious. But she was just really nice. Then I felt guilty. So now I greet people in airports.

But Hong Kong ain’t got no time for that!

“People are no-nonsense here,” I remarked to my friend Crystal, who has been working in Hong Kong for nearly a decade. “People are very no-nonsense here,” she said, laughing.

I can’t speak Cantonese, and sometimes I wonder about the opportunities for small talk lost because of the language barrier. I’m not a fan of small talk, but it’d be interesting to hear about their day. We tried listening to some Youtube videos before this trip, but I just can’t ace the pronunciation. Still, I feel like the most meaningful interaction I had was with this lady in a bakery along Electric Road. I ordered in English, which rattled her a bit, so she invited me to point at what I wanted on the display case. I pointed out a sawdust pudding, a matcha cake, and two Hokkaido milk tarts for J. (I have a serious sweet tooth.) She started to explain something. She pointed at a sign with a 3 on it, and characters that I of course can’t read. She pointed at the display case again. What she meant: pick 3, and you get one for free. “Okay!” I said, and pointed at another slice of cake. She looked bothered, pointed at the tarts and the pudding, and said, “No, no included.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

I looked at the display case again. Three cakes and a sawdust pudding? Can I finish all that? Challenge acc—

“Just the one cake then,” I said, defeated.

She laughed, as though commiserating. “Okay, okay.”

I thought that was a charming moment: to have nothing lost in translation, even though we could not speak the same language.

How did we get here again?

(To be continued.)

Hong Kong: Day 1 (Arrival)