Things I’ll Miss About Hong Kong. Part 3. Random

I am running out of things to miss now. We all know this wasn’t my favourite place and there are dozens of things I won’t miss, but I’ve discussed them at length before.

So back to what I will miss.

My friends of course. Despite its transient nature I was able to make a few friends who still live there.
I’ll be honest though, its not hard to stay in touch and I’m sure we’ll still be a part of each others lives, just from a distance.
There are only few true friends, relationships sometimes built on the need for company, support and vodka that worked out well. I’ll miss those girls.
I am looking forward to getting home to my old friends whose lives I’ve been missing out on all this time. Back into the security of people who have known me so long, relationships built on trust and history.

Someone told me the other day how I would miss my helper. She meant miss the help not the person. I will miss my helper as a person. She was a hard working woman with pride, common sense , a sense of humour and great strength of character. I admire her and like her. So yes I will miss her.
Will I miss someone cleaning for me and cooking for me? Hell No!
I am very much looking forward to being the mistress of my house. The keeper of the keys. The stirrer of the pots. The homemaker.
I like to clean my own house. I have a nice house, I’m proud if it and I want to look after it. I like to potter. Sure, I’m not the tidiest person in the world and I get distracted by other projects. But it’s my mess, in my house and I’ll tidy it up when I’m good and ready. So ner.

I like cooking. I like cooking in a nice big, bright, clean kitchen.

I like shopping for my groceries. I like shopping in a supermarket where the checkout staff are nice, chatty and don’t bark things like “you want bag? 50¢!” ” you ga muni bac car!?” Which translates as “do you have a money back card white guilo trash?!”

Will I miss someone looking after my kids so I can swan off at a moments notice? No. I quite like my kids. They’re fun. I like doing stuff with them. They’re my kids.
We also have grandparents who like to spend time with them and haven’t been able to for a while. I also have great friends and neighbours who are like aunts and uncles. If I’m desperate to escape or need to do something and can’t take the kids, I know I can get some help. It’s called family and community.

After a few weeks of being on my own with two kids, two dogs and a six bedroom house, it’s possible I may crack a little and ask for help. I might decide a cleaner once a fortnight is good idea.

I may just decide to laugh, put my feet up with a glass of wine and worry about the mess in the morning.

Most of all, I’ll miss my husband who has to remain in Hong Kong for a while longer. My rock who stays behind to secure the family’s future while the kids and I go home to start it. He’s my hero.

Transient Friendships.

So today a good friend told me she was leaving Hong Kong. She hasn’t been the first, she won’t be the last but it doesn’t get easier.

That’s the thing with this expat life, everyone is moving in or moving on. One minute you’re here, the next it’s Singapore, Tokyo, Shanghai, or back home, wherever home might be.

It was hard leaving my home, family and friends in the first place. Friends I had known for a long time, relationships that had taken years to grow, people who understood me. I felt I would never make friends like that in Hong Kong.

However, it is possible to make close friends in this transient environment. Out of necessity we manage to locate each other through trial and error.

At first a lot of the women I met were other mums with kids similar in age to mine. Total strangers but we exchanged numbers anyway. Some of them became friends, others not. Some seemed to do nothing but drink coffee and have pedicures, others were so extraordinarily busy they never had time for hello.
Eventually I’d meet someone who I clicked with, our kids might even get along.
But I’m cautious because sometimes; well people aren’t always what they seem. I’ve been let down, used as free baby sitting in the guise of play dates and snubbed for no apparent reason.

But I have also been lucky.
One friend V, saved me from certain insanity. The day after I came home from hospital with the new baby, the flat next door began renovations. The noise was beyond unbearable. Intense pneumatic drilling from 9am sharp until 5pm with a 1 hour break for lunch. V gave me a key to her house and I could turn up whenever with my kids and spend all day there if I chose. She left a year later to return home, we lost touch.

Another friend L, was the life and soul of the party. Always smiling and never took no for an answer. She returned home with a sick child and we all felt at a loss being unable to support her from over here. I do still gossip with her iMessage.

And now another friend departs. I know she’s not happy, and that hurts too. If she was happy and excited, I’d be happy and excited for her. But she’s not and I know I can’t be nearby to support and cheer her. I can’t help her unpack or mind her kids or bring her takeaway and wine. I can only be a voice on the line or words in an email. It’s not the same.

That’s the odd thing about being an expat wife. Your husband is at work all day everyday with something solid to keep him grounded. A purpose. While we’re at home on ever shifting land trying to make it all seem normal for the kids. Our support network is frankly unreliable and so it’s no wonder that many of us are slightly cracked.

Goodbye dear Friend. I won’t forget you. I’ll probably be shit at calling regularly with the sodding time differences n all. My emails will over long and whatever we say now, it’s going to be a long long time if ever until we meet again. Thanks for all the laughs and frank conversations. I’ll miss you.