July 1st - 10th Anniversary of Hong Kong's handover to China

Landing at Hong Kong International Airport, I looked in my passport to see that it was only 2 months ago, exactly, that I left. Two of my cousins, Jing and Cheung, came to pick the three of us up - my mother, my father, and I. As we walked out into the sauna-humid Hong Kong air, I noted the lack of any sensationalist feelings in myself over being here, which means this place just feels like another city that I go to, like Boston, New York, or Albany...and it feels just as close, in some ways closer to me than it is closer to my mother, whom has never been to Temple Street - a narrow street surrounded by an eclectic mix of daaih paaih dohng outdoor eateries, stalls of cheap plastic toys for sale, palm-readers who mystify their appearance to increase business, and sex stalls that include dildos, whips, and other such toys. Our hotel is just blocks away from here.

Red and green auras of light hovered in the cloudy night sky as we drove there, perhaps remnants of fireworks and lazer shows commemorating the handover. Two couples, friends of my parents, surprised us at our hotel and brought us down to eat at a restaurant. As they jabbered away, Jing and Cheung sat in awkward silence, evincing to me one of the pitfalls of Hong Kong culture - strangers don't know how to talk to one another. The most that was spoken between them was "M hou haak hei, sihk la!" Don't be formal/courteous, eat up! So my parents and their four friends caught up over life, as I watched the dancing and singing on the TV overhead, an uninterrupted commemoration program, as we all chowed down various parts of pig, the fat, the meat, and the intestines, served over rice.