So instead of several small updates on our adventure, we are going to start off with one very long update.
The trip didn't start off as smoothly as we had planned. The night before we were leaving, we had planned to stay at a hotel near the airport, return the rental cars at the airport, jump on a plane and enjoy a nice long trip in business class. Well, Sandra spent the entire night at the house finishing up all of the last minute things like packing and emptying the house (some of which ended up being left for some [Sandra again -- absolutely wonderful, amazing and people we couldn't do without] friends). When we went to return the rental cars, we found out the rental extension we did a week prior did not get added to the rental cars we had -- so they had actually started collection proceedings. This was taken care of with an hour conversation there and several phone calls over the next week.
We made it the airport on time. At the check-in counter, the lady asked how many bags we were checking and I replied 9. Sandra, in her sleepless state, said,"No, I packed ten bags." Silly me, I had forgot to count the one I left in the hotel room! Nothing important, just the kids' clothes for the next week.
I frantically called the hotel and they said could shuttle it over to the airport. We asked the airline person when we need to have it by to get it on the plane. 45 minutes before the flight. Time now, 50 minutes before the flight. Sandra and the kids head to the gate and I pace the sidewalk waiting for the shuttle. Time check, 40 minutes til the flight leaves. No shuttle. I call the hotel and start a what's the the best way to ship this suitcase to Hong Kong, when I see the shuttle pull up. Time check, 35 minutes until departure. I rush into the counter, they call over a supervisor, who calls to someone, someplace in the inner void of the baggage workings. YES, they took the bag and it made the flight. I want to say a thanks to the people at United Airlines who saved me from a very unpleasant and disastrous flight.
Speaking of a very unpleasant and disastrous flight, I bet that is what several people were thinking when they saw three kids settling into business class. They were great travelers. Of course, they did have a full selection of videos and games. [Staring at a screen always seems to significantly alter, one could argue for the better, the personalities of our children. And yes, we aren't too proud to say we take advantage of it. I am too proud to say how often.]
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| Sandra looks so happy sitting between two kids for 15 hours... |
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| Quin enjoys the lax supervision of the person next to him. |
Once we landed in Hong Kong, Sandra had set up the hotel shuttle to take us from the airport to the hotel we stayed in for two nights, before moving into our flat. Hearing they needed to shuttle five people and ten, not nine, bags, they sent the BIG bus. By big bus, I mean a cross-country touring bus.
After our first excursion to Hong Kong to find housing and schooling and now spending two nights in a hotel with a breakfast buffet, the kids now think since our flat is in Hong Kong, it must have a breakfast buffet down stairs, room service and other amenities, too. The first morning in the hotel, we are getting dressed and ready to go to breakfast. The relevant conversation went like this:
Tony: Zora, if you bring me your brush, I will brush your hair.
Zora: I already did it.
Sandra: Zora, I didn't pack your brush, and mine is in my hand. Do
you want to rethink that answer?
Zora: I already did it!
Sandra: Zora . . .
Tony: What brush did you use?
Zora: The one in the closet.
That's when we remembered that they had a fancy shoeshine kit in the
closet, complete with a nice shoe brush. I guess Zora wanted a brush
and shine with a little color...
Time to move into our new flat on the 19th floor. We actually have lifts with a view, which is a rarity in the residential complexes.
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| View from the lift |
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| Our view of the harbour. It's right between the buildings in the middle in the little rectangle. |
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| View of the pool from our flat. |
Sandra had the foresight to have rental furniture set up in the flat before we moved in and our stuff from the states had arrived and been unpacked, too. This was the smooth transition we were hoping for in the beginning of our adventure. [That's always the plan, but this time it actually worked!]
With all of the talk of lifts and the flat, I sometimes wonder if we are going home or to the plastic surgeon.
We moved in on Sunday and the kids started school on Tuesday. One of those things we forgot was buying school supplies in the States and bringing them over. While the kids were enjoying their first day of school, we asked around where to buy supplies and spent Tuesday, all day Tuesday, looking for supplies in the modern department stores. [About 10 floors, lots of people, lots of departments selling more Hello Kitty items than you ever thought existed. Pencil box? Floor 7 for a ridiculous price. Pencils? You can buy a gorgeous one in the card department on 12. Insulated lunch boxes (as we are back to a school is no cafeteria, dammit) none to be found. Where, oh where, is the 128-size box of Crayolas?] We finally found some at a grocery store and were thrilled. On the way home, [racing to meet the school bus at the end of the day], we went down a side street with little shops everywhere and I glanced over and saw a stationery store with everything we had needed. [Everything! At ridiculously cheap prices! All crammed into a store with the footprint of some of your walk-in closets, two floors, packed floor to ceiling. Everything!] We saw three more of these stores on the same street.
The kids went to school Tuesday through Friday and then were off the next week for the end of the term. During that week they got to see several areas of the city.
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| This is Sam's usual expression at least once every outing. |
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| Another happy moment in the middle of an adventure. |
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| Discovering why the guide book said to enter the park from the top. |
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| Disneyland. |
[Tony had to work this week, so many of our daytime adventures were just the kids and I. And I had been struggling since we arrived to understand how you knew when to get OFF the bus. I'm fairly capable of looking up directions on Google maps and, given enough time, even finding the bus stop with the right sign. But as stops are whizzing by, most buses have no sign indicating the name of the next stop and, indeed, they didn't always STOP at all the stops, I was baffled by how people knew when to get off the bus. I also was having flashbacks to the one week I became a true environmentalist in Phoenix and left my gas-guzzling truck at home in favor of riding the bus to and from work. When I couldn't find the button to open the back door of the bus, the other riders were rude to me, apparently permanently scarring me, and that was the end of my short career as a public transit commuter in Arizona. Now I wouldn't even know if people were being rude to me, since I couldn't understand what they were saying!!
Anyway, one day this week, we decided to hit an inside playground in
another part of town. I prepped myself with directions, my Blackberry
(which SUCKS at Google maps, by the way), the number of stops we would
pass on the bus and the name of the stop where we get off. And,
because my brain is too old and feeble to remember which number I
counted 30 seconds ago, I put Quin in charge of counting the stops and
telling me when we reached 14. We were doing well, 3 . . 7 . . . 9 .
. 12, almost to stop 14 where we would alight. Except then I finally
noticed we were the only people on the bus. The double decker bus.
Nobody else. And then the bus stopped again, and this time the DRIVER
got off. Not a good sign. It turns out we had skipped our stop
(apparently you have to push the button to let the driver know you
want to stop -- who knew??!!) and gone to the end of the line.
Fortunately, the end of the line was only a few blocks from our
destination, and next to the harbour, so I could orient myself. About
10 minutes with my incompetent Blackberry (which can show maps, but
cannot tell me where I am), a few wrong turns and only a couple of
incidents when I dragged the kids through whizzing traffic, and we
were there. I felt like a Hong Konger! At least until we went
straight to McDonalds for lunch . . .]
On another outing, we passed a sushi restaurant with a conveyor
belt. The kids wanted to go in and try it. Zora was the adventurous
one and pulled squid of the belt.
daycare non-existent here, we also spent one day interviewing
"domestic helpers." Tony wanted to meet candidates as well, which
makes sense as she would be living in our home, but with no help, that
meant bringing the kids along. I decided that if the kids didn't
scare someone off, we might have a keeper. So off we went to the
agency -- picture about 50 women, largely from the Phillipines and
Indonesia, in a room lining up to go into small rooms to meet
potential employers. As Western families are notoriously less
demanding of helpers than local families, even our large family didn't
seem to scare anyone off. We went into a room where another woman was
already interviewing, and the agent handed us a stack of applications.
We interviewed about 10 ladies, with the kids becoming progressively
more restless as the time went on, and connected with a couple of
them. One of the final candiates was a bright and friendly young
woman named Marilou, and the three grumpy munchkins didn't faze her at
all. After a few more days and several more conversations, we hired
Marilou, who is amazing. I still haven't gotten over the middle-class
guilt of having live-in help, and Marilou has all new furniture in her
room and anything else she wants to prove it, but I have to tell you
that it is life changing. Clothes are magically cleaned and ironed,
the house is perpetually clean (although we still manage to clutter it
every day) and there is dinner on the table every night. And Marilou
is teaching us the joys of Chinese food and where to find what we need
in Hong Kong stores. I may not be able to come home . . .]
Next up was Halloween. The complex had a Halloween party for all of the kids complete with runway to show off costumes and a haunted house. Afterwards, the kids could go trick or treating to the flats. [Let me tell you, trick or treating by elevator or stairs is not as fun as it sounds. Since we don't have front door lights, they gave us a list of participating apartments. I suppose three flights of stairs, or 15 minutes spent pacing in front of the elevator, all to visit one apartment that is getting their Halloween on, helps balance out the calories in that piece of candy you get, right?]
To get to the Buddha one must journey to the top of mountain. Today you only need a lift ticket on the sky tram (glass bottom cars optional). I took the bus while the rest of the family to the tram. [He tried very hard, and gets points for that. It wasn't until we were getting to the very front of the 45-minute line, and you could see the tram cars headed up the mountain right in front of you, that I noticed he went silent and pale. It likely was a bit much to ask of someone who is uncomfortable with heights. But he now lives on the 19th floor like it was on the ground -- even stands next to the windows!]
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| They really expected me to ride this thing? |
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| Sandra explaining how easy the sky tram is. My flushed, sweating look of terror can't be seen. |
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| I know it isn't right, but the kids kept commenting on the size of Buddha's bum. |
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| More stairs... |
Well, I think that just about all for the last month. Look for more soon.
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| Sandra's week long trip to Munich |
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| Munich |
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| Trip while Sandra was in Munich |
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| Yes, Christmas decoration in the malls here, too. |
[OK, so Tony asked me to take a look at this before he posted it. So,
in usual form, I over committed and it sat in my email box for two
weeks. So now to get caught up again . . .
I spent a few hours thinking that "we know a few people in Hong Kong,
maybe we can host a Thanksgiving dinner!" After all, we had learned
how to work our very small oven, and we don't really know enough
people to need a 28-lb turkey or anything (nice job with your London
Friendsgiving Dave and Kenz!), and Marilou could help me find sweet
potatoes and brussel sprouts. Thankfully, that insanity lasted about
24 hours, and then we decided to try to get reservations at a
restaurant. There are enough US expats here that there are several
places that serve or allow you to carry out the full-on Thanksgiving
dinner.
Tony called one that looked good, but found they were already booked.
"But there is room downstairs," they said. So we ended up at the
Bostonian (sounds very Thanksgiving-y, doesn't it) with a 6:30
reservation for Thursday night. After all, we had school and work
that day!
It was a good try at Thanksgiving, really. But Hong Kongers love
their many-course meals, so we started with several yummy
seafood-based appetizers and lobster bisque.
The kids turned up their
noses to all but the bread, so I was in heaven with three plates of
appetizers to split between Tony and I. Unfortunately, the restaurant
was also very slow between courses, so by the time the main course
arrived, we were an hour and a half in (and a $175 bottle of wine thrown in for free because of the wait - Tony), I was taking the kids up to
the hotel lobby to run around while we waited, and Tony would text me
when food arrived. Since that morning, Quin's mantra had been "will
there by mashed potatoes? Mashed potatoes? I can't wait for mashed
potatoes! Are you sure there will be mashed potatoes?" So when the
entree arrived -- a very elegant plate with three green beans, three
carrots, a liquid cranberry-based "sauce," sliced turkey and, there on
the side, looking almost like a decoration, a perfect ping-pong sized
ball of mashed potatoes -- I thought he would be crushed.
this looked nothing like the mountain of buttery potatoes that is a
standard on Turkey Day in our house. But he didn't blink an eye, was
thankful for his mashed potato ball, and we took one more lap around
the lobby before desert was served. I was thankful too, at that point
(and the bottle of wine was not the only cause), and glad that our
kids are settling into a world where things are sometimes different,
and that's sometimes ok. Next year, we may still try the
friends-and-family-gathering that is my favorite part of Thanksgiving,
but this was just fine for only 6 weeks in country. I hope your
celebrations were special too.
There's more, because the passing of Thanksgiving means the immediate
beginning of Christmas decorating, and they do it in a very big and
neon way here in Hong Kong. But I want you to appreciate it, so I
need more pictures. Just know that the Christmas tree IN THE LOBBY OF
MY OFFICE is one of those with the LED neon-color tips at the ends of
the needles, and the white reindeer that stands next to the tree is
covered in multi-covered lights. For those of you who know (and
hopefully love) how I embrace holiday decorating, even when it borders
on tacky (perhaps even crosses over slightly), you know I'm in heaven.
Finally, know that we are thinking of all of you, and missing you. At
one point, Quin mentioned our annual Christmas gift exchange with a
crowd of good Phoenix friends, and broke down in tears in the middle
of a restaurant. I had just read an invitation to a friend's birthday
party that I would have loved to attend, so his tears sent me over the
edge. One more example of crazy Americans -- they sit there sobbing
in the McDonalds (yes, McDonalds again, it was a kid day). The tears
are short-lived, and balanced out by the fun of our amazing adventure.
But know that we are missing you, and would love to have you visit so
we can share what we are learning in person. Look for good airfares!
Until next time . . .]
Sandra, Tony, Sam, Quin & Zora
