Sunday, October 01, 2006
HK does not stand for Hells Kitchen - 4:38 PM
My fascination with HongKong started wayyyy before my obsession with dim sum...it really started when my father passed a simple comment, 'lets go to Hongkong before 1997'. That was probably 1994, when I was about 9.
'Hongkong? OK I WANT!!', we would chant at the backseat of the car, on the long 30min ride to Ah Mah's house.
But people who knew my father, would know that that statement meant, practically...nothing. Before we knew it, 1997 had passed, my parents had made trips there themselves, without the excess baggage, namely Ruoxi, Ruoying, and Ruoyi... All of a sudden, we celebrated the turn of the millennium, Ruoxi braved September 11th and packed her bags for Chicago in 2001, and we forgot about the promise about Hongkong and 1997....it was the end of 2003 that we finally made the first trip there as a family. And the only reason why we went, was because of a 'combined package' to Shanghai, that incidentally included a short stayover in HK.
Today, it is 2006, and we are in the month where we can sing 'Wake me Up when September Ends', again. Lil kids in Singapore are also celebrating 'THEIR DAY', without realizing that, hell... its practically THEIR DAY every single day! And on a lazy Sunday afternoon, with exams coming up, I start to do what I usually do when crap piles... DAYDREAM.
Hongkong is calling my name... 3 years is too long a time to part from the place they appropriately dubbed the Pearl of the Orient. I honestly don't remember much from 2003, and thats why I want to return. The harbor, the Markets, Sha Tin, the winding roads. The famous BBQ-meat stores, the Peak, Happy Valley, the throngs of people. Hongkong is truly a place to mai dong xi, chi dong xi... If you're lucky, you may even spot Tony Leung!
And for now, the question lies ahead. Should I, or shouldn't I? I'm sure my parents would be willing to go there, cos it would mean a family holiday again (without Ruoxi, again)... which, in this era, is hard to come by, when you have grown up daughters who spend more time with their friends than the family. Better yet, arrange to go with my godparents, whom we used to take every single Malaysian holiday with.
After all, if they make any comments, I can always bring up 1997.