“Beep, beep. Beep, beep.” I opened my eyes, and I saw “6:00 A.M.” in bright red print with a black background on a clock. There I was, getting myself out of my bed. I looked out into the streets, and I saw a few elderly sitting on the benches and listening to an old-fashioned radio. There was my uncle, standing next to me impatiently, and said, “You young people and your sleeping habits, do you know that you’ll be healthier if you wake up early?” I asked, “Can we do this some other time?” He shook his head and said, “I thought it would be a great idea that we should spend some time together in the wild, you know, away from those busy streets and dirty air in the metro. Plus, it’s been a while since you came back to Hong Kong to visit me. I guarantee you that this trip will be fun.”
I wore my pair of sweats and t-shirt. I realized I was embarrassed about my mismatched outfit. But my uncle told me that no one was going to notice me anyway. So I left the apartment with my uncle.
We went to a café to get some breakfast before we began our trip. I ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich; he ordered a cup of tea and a bowl of noodles. “You Americans always do that cliché thing that you guys just have coffee and then have sex. I know it from movie your movies.” That, I believe is a total misconception.
When we finally finished our meals, my uncle and I climbed onto the second story of the double-decker bus when it arrived. I sat next to the window. I looked outside when my uncle fell asleep, and I saw working men and women, students, elderly all walking together on the same sidewalk. I, then, thought, America is so much different from here. Looking down into my clothes and comparing to the styles locales wear, I felt different; I felt like an outsider. After spending the first half of my life in Hong Kong, I would call Hong Kong my hometown. But why do I look different from others?
After riding on the bus for two hours, we finally got to the foothill of the trail. I looked at the green leaves on the oak trees, dried, yellow leaves on the dirty trail, birds flying around the sky. I felt energized and excited. “Don’t you love that scenery?” My uncle asked. I nodded.
My uncle handed me his walking stick and said, “I need that back when I sixty.” He laughed. And then, we started walking uphill, even though the trail was dirty and uneven. But as my uncle and I started sharing our interesting stories about our lives in different places, I completely forgot about the unpleasantness of this trail. There, we walked to the top of the hill, and it was already four p.m. I looked down and saw the busy streets filled with tall buildings, planes flew across the city as my feet were standing on a trail filled with dirt. The chirpings suddenly became my iPod, the wind became my air-conditioning system, the trees became my new temporary home. I took a couple pictures of the scenery. I, again, looked into my hometown one last time, and I thought maybe I should stop being an American and enjoy my visit in Hong Kong and act like a locale.
“Hey, I gave you the stick. How could you be tired? By the way, where it is?” I remember I left it on the hilltop next to a tree. “You owe me one,” he said. Yes, I owe him one. Not the walking stick, but that scenery he brought me to see. That scenery made me realize that sometimes, it is better to look things from another perspective: life is much prettier that way.
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3 comments:
One word: Amazing... I love the idea that you are comparing and contrasting the different mind between your uncle and Americans misconception. It's true, even my parents will probably done the same thing like your uncle. Also, I like how you substitute the electronics media like Ipod and A.C system with nature. I feel like there are expressions that only nature could created.
Overall, I agree that we should look things from another perspective. Life is about adventure, and discovering our purpose in life. If we just look at only one perspective, I'm pretty sure we will not achieve it.
Apropos of Aimee's post, walking can almost *always* provide such a perspective shift! I agree with Eddy: this is a great post, full of feeling and good writing. Make sure to proofread carefully, as there are several typos throughout. All in all, though, nicely done!
Your post “away from normality” was extremely relatable and enjoyable to read. As I was reading deeper and deeper into your post I was remind of my grandparents and my relationship with them. For most of my childhood I lived only ten minutes away from them and would see them everyday, although we lived so close to one another and were so involved our perceptive on live were so different. Going to my grandparents house was like stepping into at time machine everyday that took you back in time and to different country. Along with their home is filled with old technology, and items that you could only find in Mexico it is their simple way of life that really makes our perceptions on life so differences. Their days are happily filled with a morning walk around the neighborhood, gardening, church, and two meals that breakup their day. Where in my days to days life is filled with school, computers, cell phones and craziness. As a young girl I hated being at my grandparents house all day, I remember thinking it was so boring. Now being older I long to be able to see life through their lens, and have a simple day leaving the rat race behind for a few days.
I loved how you talked about your Uncle’s walking stick, my grandfather has a walking stick that he uses every morning on his walks. When I was reading about your walk up to the trail I could almost feel the morning mist and smell the air from the times I have walked with my grandfather. When you gave us that visualization of the alarm clock going off, my thoughts went straight to the times that I have slept over at my grandparents house and feeling as if its some unwritten rule to wake up before 9. Not only was you post so forthcoming and a great story of a connection between generations but it made me think of such wonderful memories. Thanks.
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