We hauled our luggage into the building and took the lift to the eighth floor, where hopefully, we would be high enough to escape from the horrors of the big ugly fat Hong Kong mosquitoes. I’m allergic to mosquito bites and once had a particularly horrible encounter with one, which ended up with me being hospitalised. The disease I had acquired was called Henoch-Schonlein Syndrome which could be deadly, was highly inconvenient and without a cure. I waited it out in hospital for four weeks, unable to walk and throwing up any food given to me. I had an intravenous line in the back of my hand to give me nutrition. In the end, I overcame the disease and returned to Dubai two weeks late for school. Back in Dubai, it is usually much too hot and dry for mosquitoes to survive so I am safe here.
The apartment was small, about half the size of the lounge of our house in Dubai. I felt claustrophobic inside the cramped room which I was to share with my brother. The first morning after sleeping in my bed I already longed for my comfortable, spacious bed back home. My brother had similar feelings. However, neither of us complained because, by Hong Kong standards, this was a medium sized apartment and we weren’t even paying a cent to stay in it since it was a spare apartment loaned to us by my grandmother. My parents were even considering buying it for use after retirement. “All it needs is a good renovation,” they said. I agreed, all it needed was a renovation indeed, a huge renovation. It was a very old apartment, floors needed new tiles, windows needed replacing, walls needed painting, but after all that, I thought it definitely had the potential to be quite a nice apartment.
The next day, we battled our way through many streets teeming with loud but friendly locals and finally made it to a busy Chinese restaurant. Inside, we were immediately hit by a wall of sound, the source, more noisy Hong Kong people. My eardrums felt like they would explode in my head. My parents seemed not to notice, in fact, they seemed to enjoy it, but then again, they were raised here. I thought of our house in Dubai where one could lounge in peace without constant yelling from people around, all trying to be heard over the other people. We eventually found a table and sat down but had to wait for our relatives to arrive before we could start eating.
There are only two reasons I put up with the pains of vacationing to Hong Kong. The first reason is the sheer anticipation of the wonderful food, the ‘real’ Chinese food. Not the ‘sesame prawns on toast’, and the ‘roast duck’ that you get in Dubai. I savoured the fantastic taste of the traditional Hong Kong food in my mouth. It was wonderful, but sadly short-lived. Once we finished eating, I was again forced to wait in silence while my parents and relatives chatted loudly in Cantonese. I understood the language almost perfectly, but my pronunciation left much to be desired so I decided to keep quiet. After chatting for one hour, my parents had finally had enough so we left and headed for the shops.
The second best thing about Hong Kong is the shopping. I suffer from technology craving so I save up all year to buy the latest model. In Hong Kong, technology comes fast, I can always buy products and accessories that will only available in Dubai in two years time. That year I was on the hunt for a MP3 player. I had researched the specifications of various models on the Internet during the past year. Since I was looking for a portable source of entertainment, I decided to look for the smallest, lightest models available. I had my eyes on a certain Sony Network Walkman, which I found it in the first shop I stepped into. There it was, its aluminium casing glistening under the lights of the showcase for the latest Sony models. It was so small, smaller than my palm and it felt like a feather in my hands. My mind was set; I wasn’t even going to glance at the other models, I wanted to buy it immediately. However, my mother managed to persuade me to go looking in a few more shops for lower prices. I vowed that I wouldn’t leave Hong Kong without that Walkman.
After buying my Sony Walkman, my mission was complete; I now had no more reason to stay in Hong Kong. I was ready to go home. That was wishful thinking, we were to stay in Hong Kong for another two weeks. Another two weeks, longing for the comfy beds of our Dubai house, longing for the tranquillity, the space. Those two weeks felt like two months. We visited more relatives, ate more food and bought more goods. Having spent all my money on the Walkman, I bought little else. During the two weeks I grew more and more impatient to go home and when that glorious moment came, I was overjoyed. We threw our luggage in the trunk of the taxi and made for the airport.
The time finally came when we boarded the plane. I settled into my seat and tapped the screen of the small TV to turn it on. I felt relaxed and strangely satisfied. We were on the plane. We were going back to Dubai. We were heading home.
