Concerning That Which Cannot Be Understood

12.9.2014 - Day 3 Hong Kong

Day 3 in Hong Kong

In a saturated Asian city, you kind of wake up expecting to do something, expecting an adventure, every morning. Everything is accessible, and the possibilities sit in front of you on a single plane stretching onwards like a grass field with an infinite variety of equally valid routes, only it begins to be daunting, and eventually you realize you're sailing an infinite sea where the dark horizon meets the sky and nothing can be seen. Each minute becomes a heightened, paradoxically slow-motion and full throttled state of importance. The compression is immense, the competition intense, and therefore, the border between action and inaction is blurred. The difference between possibility and limitation suddenly vanishes.

The jet lag seems to be still in effect, but presumably better than before. I woke up once every hour. Every now and then, I poke and prod my phone, in the sphere of the glowing screen, maybe exchange a message or two, hoping my eyes will be tired enough to send me out of consciousness again. The heater is roaring at my feet like a jet engine. Still, I don't fail to fall asleep for another hour. It's a struggle, and sleep begins to be precious and waking, dreadful. The only difference today was an greater endurance through the day hours, and my disorientation condensing into focus. I'm quicker and smarter. I invent and create practical responses to reality. I feel as if I'm rediscovering myself and am surprised when I aptly figure out solutions methodically and efficiently. I optimize my baggage and deal with laundry and wash salad greens and proofread my novel and clean the room - things I couldn't consciously do before... It's funny too that there is no sense of panic or stress in this state. I'm still disoriented enough to have no personal vendetta with time. I'm up at four in the morning and drink a hot cup of diluted tea and eat whole wheat bread and salted seaweed. I sleep at five until seven forty - a record.

Morning iPad business and then I realize I wouldn't be doing much today either. I head down with aunt to the fast food restaurant nearby. The place is a new Fairwood, a Hong Kong style franchise, with an interior of clean, sleek and modern orange and brown curves, cast in soft diffused ambient glow. Lines and people and food meld together. Hong Kong fast food is no North American burger joint. It's more along the lines of Japanese Yoshinoya or ticket ramen stops - with more selection. It is indeed a full Hong Kong style family restaurant-cafe - noodles, rice, congee, sandwiches, soup, you name it - except like speed-dating. The food is all ready-made, and prepared somehow in advance. Even when my aunt asks for a cup of hot water, they immediately pull it out from under the counter somewhere like magic. The food is cheap, coming in at 20 or so HKD and tastes decent, typical, of any Hong Kong style eatery. But it might already be better than Toronto's Markham.

I'm packing. I've managed to make what I need for Singapore fit into a tiny flimsy carry-on bag and a backpack. My boarding pass is in my iPhone. The luxury of the Passbook app and its auto-updates shouldn't be taken for granted.

Tomorrow is when the adventure truly starts and when I hit the ground running. I get the message from my friends that they are more excited about seeing me than I am. It was a month ago when their enthusiasm and heartfelt passion began to build my own anticipation for the trip. Many exclamation points and capital letters later, needless to say, aside from the dampening of travel concerns and planning, I am no less enthusiastic. Some of the warmest, most hospitable and friendly people I've gotten to know are from or in Singapore. Many I've known for years and we probably have witnessed each other growing up, helped support each other emotionally in times of need, across the divide of the seas. Some I met in person in Japan, others I have yet to meet. There's something beyond the surface when it comes to people in places like Japan and Singapore. It is a pilgrimage in a sense, like revisiting fond memories and a distant dream. And it feels like a return home. To a family I've longed to see.

The jet lag has me disoriented enough still to feel nothing about the uncertainties of the trip, the lack of planning and the wanderings in a new world with complicated street layouts. 3D street view doesn't help very much, I hit dead ends and run into walls of buildings frequently and realize I have to double back or make extensive detours. Everything looks similar, as unfamiliar places often do. On the other hand, the metro map looks clear and convenient enough. Travel seems both deceptively simple on impulse and instinct and luck, and strangely complex and intimidating at every corner.

I'm exceptionally tired tonight. Crashing at 7. Not many interesting thoughts today. Tomorrow, at the airport early morning, I hope I remember to bring everything I need.