10) FERRY ME HAPPY

I was beginning to fear that I would never like, let alone understand, Hong Kong and its inhabitants. Although I am a shopper, I could not connect with consumption as a 24/7 activity which should more correctly be described as an obsession. Tired of getting lost among the same labrynth of shop lined streets, each with the same assortment of Giordano's, Lacoste's and 7-11s (literally one on every block) I made my way to the pier and hopped a ferry to the otherside of the bay. Along the boulevard of the stars sits the Hong Kong Cultural Centre and during a performance of the Butterfly Lovers by the Hong Kong Chinese Orchestra (the centre of my actual work here) I found the beating heart and soul of the city. Ironically, as the orchestra was perforing a stirring musical rendition of an ancient poem, outside the nightly laser show over the harbour was in full-swing.

Today, I once again explored the far side of the city, up to the areas known as the New Territories, reclaimed land which houses the actual residents who do not wear Gucci and Versace every day of the week. I delighted in the simple outdoor fairs that seemingly were everywhere.

The 21st Annual Koi exhibit featured dozens of large plastic tubs with Koi fish in various sizes and colours, some in plastic bags, and others floating freely in the cool waters. Prizes were awarded for a variety of categories and one man cried when his fish was voted the largest.

My favourite event of the day was the Hong Kong Community Gardens award ceremony, which was a touristless venue, and I relished strolling the crowds without people trying to hawk their wares. At the stall for the New Life psychiatric rehabilitation centres, I met a woman with impeccable English who explained the ethos of her group, teaching cultivation skills to clients of their services so that they can obtain job skills and hopefully a part-time job. I left the fair ground, after a performance by little ballerinas of a harvest dance, feeling rejuvenated and with the knowledge that beyond the theatrics and flash, Hong Kong is a place where people truly live.

I then headed even further North, to the Lei Cheng Uk Han tomb, a 2nd century BC era burial chamber that was excavated in the 1950s. There were no more neon signs, or crowded streets. I stumbled upon the city bus depot among the endless run-down towers and walled parks with elderly tai chi practioners. Men carrying their caged pet birds gathered together around stone tables to smoke and play cards. Philipina domestics sat in hair-braiding circles, whilst others performed improv karaoke song and dance numbers to the faint strains from a portable radio.

I sat on a bench nearby and ate from my pork-stuffed bun, splaying my pen marked map across the table with impunity. I did not belong there, but no one cared. They were too busy being concerned with the problems of their own existance. And finally, I could say I was happy in Hong Kong.