Posts tagged with "travel"

The Revered Elderly

Thumbnail: Grandparents with their kids

A few days ago, an elder­ly woman well past the age of retire­ment served me in a pop­u­lar, mod­ern tea shop, enthu­si­as­ti­cal­ly telling me to take my time in look­ing over the menu and decid­ing what I want­ed to order. She would con­stant­ly thank me for the patron­age, even before I ordered any­thing, and was prob­a­bly more than twice the age of any­one else work­ing there.

The cul­ture here is very accept­ing of senior cit­i­zens. They have active jobs, and often walk around with their chil­dren and grand­chil­dren instead of hid­ing in rest homes. This is part­ly due to the fact that liv­ing space is extreme­ly expen­sive, so fam­i­lies end up liv­ing togeth­er for their entire lives. My eldest pater­nal uncle, his wife and daugh­ter all cur­rent­ly live with my grand­moth­er (in a rough­ly 1000 square foot apart­ment), and have been doing so for almost their entire lives. Generally it’s the par­ents that work, while the retired grand­par­ents become the babysit­ters, the gro­cery shop­pers, etc. Everyone is will­ing to be patient when wait­ing for a slow old lady to cross the street at an excru­ci­at­ing pace, or help any elder­ly with canes get on and off the bus­es. I caught some grand­par­ents tak­ing their grand­chil­dren to school, and it remind­ed me of my mater­nal grand­par­ents fly­ing to Canada to take care of me when my par­ents were work­ing on their careers and I had no school in the sum­mer.

All the beg­gars here are elder­ly, unlike the younger ones back home. They can’t afford oper­a­tions for their cataracts and have already lost their minds. These are peo­ple with bare­ly enough strength to stay awake or shake their bowls, peo­ple who don’t ask for mon­ey to buy cig­a­rettes or booze. It’s hard to look at because they remind me too much of my grand­par­ents. I start to imag­ine them aban­doned on the street, and won­der who could do such a thing.


When I was young, my mater­nal grand­par­ents came to Canada from Hong Kong to look after me. It was sum­mer and my par­ents were work­ing while I was left at home. I had no friends, so much of my time was spent being enter­tained by my grand­fa­ther.

He was born and raised in China, and stud­ied at one of the uni­ver­si­ties there after high school. Being able to attend uni­ver­si­ty was quite an accom­plish­ment back then, and he had only one year left before civ­il war broke out. He joined the ill-fat­ed Nationalist side, where he would have had a chance to be a comis­sioned offi­cer had there not been a need for English speak­ing Chinese peo­ple. He spoke English flu­ent­ly, so he was used as a trans­la­tor for the British troops. He recov­ered from a shot to the arm, and fled to Hong Kong to avoid pros­e­cu­tion when the war was over. There he met my grand­moth­er, and assumed a career as a mete­o­rol­o­gist.

I knew him as a large, but del­i­cate man, who always took the time to explain things to me (some­thing quite rare for a kid who’s only six or sev­en). I spent the warm sum­mer days fol­low­ing him around, play­ing with him, learn­ing from him. Eventually, he became my favourite per­son in the world, the first per­son I’ve ever looked up to.

On the day that my grand­fa­ther passed away, I was crushed. It was my first fam­i­ly death ever, and when my moth­er gave me the news, all I could think about was how I would nev­er have him as my teacher again.

Eventually, I went to Hong Kong to take some time off from the North American world, and learn more about my fam­i­ly his­to­ry. I stayed at my uncle’s house, the same house that my grand­fa­ther bought over 40 years ago. It was December, and Hong Kong win­ters are pleas­ant­ly brisk, so I stepped out­side onto the bal­cony after wak­ing up and get­ting dressed. There was an elder­ly man in white socks and black shoes hold­ing a lit­tle girl wear­ing Mary Janes’ just below. The man, who bore a strik­ing resem­blance to my grand­fa­ther, was keep­ing his grand­daugh­ter com­pa­ny while she wait­ed for the school bus to come. I liked how frail, yet tena­cious, they looked, as if this weak old man would pro­tect this lit­tle girl to the death. Seeing them sit­ting there, a patient man with a doll of a girl in his arms, remind­ed me of my grand­fa­ther, a strong and gen­tle man all at once.

And it made me hap­py to know that he was not the only one.

Hike To Tai Tam Mountain

Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1
Thumbnail: Hike to Tai Tam Mountain 1

I took a bus up to the base of Tai Tam moun­tain, and hiked to the sum­mit. The path isn’t too treach­er­ous, but can be quite nar­row and has no rail­ing on the sides to pre­vent falls. The ground is most­ly cov­ered in uneven foot­ing, mak­ing the trek hard on the ankles if one does­n’t have prop­er foot­ware. People young and old alike make the trip, because it’s one of the cheap­est and health­i­est past­times avail­able. The moun­tain­side has very fresh air, some­thing that the con­cen­trat­ed Hong Kong metrop­o­lis has lost from the height of the build­ings and the diesel tanks of the auto­mo­biles. The peak offers a great view of the more sophis­ti­cat­ed side of Hong Kong, such as exec­u­tive golf cours­es, beach­es, and lux­u­ry liv­ing. Being able to see so many things from one point gives one a a tremen­dous feel­ing of mag­nif­i­cence.

Museums Of Hong Kong

Went to the Hong Kong Museum of History, and learned that Hong Kong peo­ple suck at fight­ing. Out of the two wars we were in, we won zero and lost two. First was against those damn British in 1839, tak­ing Hong Kong from China so they could have free trade of their soul­less opi­um. Then there was the Japanese inva­sion in the ear­ly 1940’s which made Hong Kong a liv­ing hell for almost every­one there, although one could say that the Brits were respon­si­ble for defend­ing one of their colonies. I can sort of see what the return to China has done to the exhibits in the sub­tle hints of pro­pa­gan­da found in the lat­er gal­leries.

Also went to the Honk Kong Science Museum, which is a com­plete rip-off of the Ontario Science Centre (or is it the oth­er way around?), from the exper­i­ments to the inter­ac­tive con­trap­tions. I had actu­al­ly seen almost all of the HKMS already just from my younger vis­its to the OSC, and most of it was exact­ly the same. I won­der if there was a col­lab­o­ra­tive effort with Ontario to cre­ate a stan­dard­ized sci­ence muse­um.

Sitting In The Airport

I’m sit­ting in the Vancouver air­port, wait­ing for the con­nect­ing flight to board. It’s 2:08 am back home, 11:08 pm here, 3:08 am in Hong Kong, and the ter­mi­nal is almost emp­ty. I caught scat­tered glimpses of the lit cities on the way over, lights bright and del­i­cate under­neath like rows upon rows of gild­ed chains.

A loud Julian sat next to me on the flight, telling me about his accom­plish­ments in the IT sec­tor, a bright young work­er who’s made his way into a great posi­tion in a recov­er­ing econ­o­my. Only the sound of suit­case wheels grind­ing on grooved floors can be heard here, with an occa­sion­al announce­ment over the loud­speak­er.

I can feel myself get­ting excit­ed, final­ly, sit­ting here remem­ber­ing all the great times I’ve had in Hong Kong. The fire­works, the fam­i­ly, the food.

The Hong Kong Packing List

Things I’m tak­ing on my trip to Hong Kong include: