It's been a year since I left, and I had forgotten just how overwhelming Hong Kong can be. A friend of mine who had previously worked in New York described HK as "Manhattan on crack". Upon landing, once I was on the Airport Express enroute to town, there was an immediate buzz in the air and I could feel a nervy tension running through me like an electric current running through a cold fluorescent bulb:
blink, blink,
tzzzz
-POP-!
And my internal neon light was up and running like the many shop signs along Wellington Street. It felt good to be back. At least for that day, as I was looking forward to the days ahead to buy stuff and explore old haunts.
In the days that followed, there was a constant sense of dual time, of the past being in the present, and of the present moment moving forward to the future. I walked past places where things had happened, where I had met remarkable people (like the armless man from Sichuan who wrote the calligraphy that decorates my house) and where I had horrible memories (like the escalator leading to Hollywood Road, which I walked up alone at 3am many a night). I met people, reminisced about the past, asked about the present and talked about the future: there was something "A la recherche du temps perdu", even a little Don Quixote, in my most recent trip.
I'm writing more in future blog entries about this trip, and will also be writing about my banking experience in Hong Kong. Pseudonyms will be used to protect the innocent and guilty; profanities will be used to express the ugly reality. Banking terminology will be introduced in each blog when the terms pop up.
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