Hong Kong photos

Hong Kong

Probably twice the size of New York, Hong Kong is a HUGE city...with highrise apartments, neon signs and enormous billboards to rival Times Square.  My first day off the long flight from Sydney happened to coincide with a one of the more rowdy expat events of the year: The Rugby Sevens' tournament, ie. an international excuse for a drunken costume party within a football stadium.  Christa and Nash got us tickets, which was a huge treat.  Several hours and Pimm's cups later, the scene inside the stadium reminded me, oddly, of college football game meets college halloween frat party, but with Asian signage and British accents.  My favorite match was when New Zealand pummelled the USA...the All Blacks (NZ national team) kicked the pants off of us, as well they should have.

Christa and Nash live in a lovely bay outside of the city, called Lobster Bay.  Their setting is so peaceful and idyllic, with views of the sea and mounains surronding a little fishing village.  Its quite easy to forget the concrete jungle, the people-packed metropolis that is Hong Kong only 25 minutes away.  This weekend, we took the kayaks outside the bay and then hiked from the beach up to the top of one of a hill, at Clearwater Bay Country Park.  The views were nice, though the smog gave everything a haze that looked as if it should burn off,  but actually never will.   Smog is a significant concern here.  Nash and Christa noted that certain days during the summer, when humidity and smog is at its height, children aren't allowed to go outside to play.  But right now, with almost no humidity and a light breeze, the sky everywhere just looks a little foggy.  

Christa took me into the city yesterday, to her old stomping grounds and the heart of Hong Kong's shopping district.  I saw every designer shop I have ever heard of, and a few hundred more which sounded vaguely familiar.  Aparently the Chinese like to shop.  And then there was the open market (below) The whole place fascinated me...the sights, smells, sounds, and the mass of people everywhere.  A long walk through the city markets and shops, a ride on the tram, followed by a foot massage, and it's official...I love this place.

Life Down Under

I am saying good-bye to Australia today...and I will miss feeling like a real Sydneysider alongside my hosts Liz, Logan, Reid, and Porter (yes, officially this little guy has a name)! 

Not only have I been learning about the land down under, I have also been experiencing Newborn-Landia.  Seeing the life of a baby, day 1 to 5, in all his ittie bittie 6.5 pound adorableness, has been a gift.  His little feet, miniature toes, teensy nose, all perfectly shaped and ready for exponential growth rates to come!  In the past month, my world has literally been turned upside down: from preparing people for the end of life to welcoming a new one into the world.  Life is practically overflowing from this household, with a 2 year old and 2 working parents.  Here is a photo of their first park outing with Porter, day 2.  

Alongside this rather stark juxtaposition, the land down under has been full of interesting distinctions from home. The season was late Summer, and is now Autumn.  The sports played here, rugby and cricket, only faintly resemble American baseball and football, but have their own incredibly complicated rules and are quite avidly followed.  The coffee culture is fabulous (definitely rivals Seattle in strength and surpasses Seattle in number of coffee shops per city block - I believe there are 3 within 1 block of Liz and Logans house).  But the coffee is different in size (no such thing as a grande or venti size) and terms (Flat White, Long Black, Short Black, Latte, and Cappuccino).  It has taken me about a month to figure out the difference between a Flat White and a Latte (key: its the amount of froth, ie. flat vs. foamy).  The money coinage  seems counterintuitive (they have $ .50 $1 and $2 coins, their sizes ranging in this order from largest to smallest).  Perhaps the most disorienting of all is the general mode of operation "on the left."   Walking, driving, biking, and just moving around - all on the left side takes a bit of reorientation.   The simplest acts of walking down a busy sidewalk, stepping onto a bus, or looking both ways before crossing the street...could quickly become disastrous if I allow auto pilot to kick in.  Perhaps my left handedness has finally come in handy.

Another chapter of this trip is closing. I leave for Hong Kong this evening.  Here is another poem by Hafiz, that anyone who is parenting may also appreciate:

Children

Can easily open the

Drawer

That lets the spirit rise up and wear

Its favorite costume of

Mirth and laughter.

When the mind is consumed with 

Remembrance of 

God

Something divine happens to the 

Heart

That 

Shapes the hand and tongue  

And eye into

The word

Love.

Photos from Australia

The 4 S's

A surprise package is awaiting my return to Sydney today.  I spoke with Liz and Logan yesterday, and learned that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy on Friday morning, around 7:45am, just shy of 2 weeks ahead of schedule.  I had been hopeful to give them some time as a family together without their added houseguest, so they could enjoy some time before baby chaos.  Ah, such lofty plans!  Baby Williams was set upon disregarding them.   So now I will have the outstanding priviledge of meeting him and hopefully helping to entertain Reid.  Though intuition tells me that the best gift might be taking another trip away from the Williams household, and letting them adjust to this tender new family life together, sans visitor.  I think the Blue Mountains are beckoning....but I must at least greet this little guy first.

Ironically, while in Port Stephens I was reminded of the 4 S's, a concept that my many mother friends discuss when attending to their newborn babies.  Or Perhaps it is the 5 S's..swaddle, side, swing, shoosh and...help me out here...I know there is another one.  But the reason it came to me had nothing to do with babies.  It seems ridiculous now to make this connection, but my mind is funny that way.  I thought of it while hiking up a small mountain next to the beach called Tamoree Head, shortly after my fall and a brief visit to the beach.  It was quite hot, I was covered in sand, sweating profusely, and had begun to notice the odiferousness I was sending out into the universe.  And thus began my 4 S's of Port Stephens: Sweaty, Sandy, Smelly, Salty, and what the hell, lets make it 5...Sore (my scraped knee had begun to throb).  But despite all this, I was in absolute heaven.  I was at peace with myself and my (albeit gorgeous) surroundings.  Forget the 25 spiders I passed on my way up to Tamoree's lookout, forget the throbbing knee and the brown snake in the bushes, forget the thoughts of work or plane ticket purchases needing to be made.   I was in paradise for a day.  

What a gift. I have been looking for an excuse to include another poem, by Hafiz.  And this is just the occasion.  It reminds me of Liz and Logan's son Reid, who has taken to saying the word, 'gift' quite frequently.  His latest gift?  A new baby brother....the best kind.

There are so many gifts

Still unopened from your birthday,

There are so many hand-crafted presents

That have been sent to you by God.

The Beloved does not mind repeating,

"Everything I have is also yours."

There are so many gifts, my dear,

Still unopened from your birthday.

O, there are so many hand-crafted presents

That have been sent to your life

From God.

Port Stephens

I have been proud of myself for a few things this trip.  The first, perhaps started before the trip itself, when I decided to leave my job as a chaplain and set out for 2 months of  multi continental traveling...without having a set plan for work upon my return.  'What an enormous leap of faith!'  I thought, patting myself on the back. By American standards, doing something like this is not just a leap of faith, but perhaps stupidly risky...no paycheck, no insurance, no set plan...  Until I came to Australia and New Zealand, where every other person one meets is 'in between jobs' and 'taking a few months to travel'.  Out of the many travelers I have encountered in hostels this past month, I think my measly 2 months may have been one of the shortest traveling stints.  Many of these folks, from France, England, Germany, Holland, and even Australia, were planning to spend several weeks in each city, just to 'get a real feel for it'.  They chuckled to themselves as my mother and I shared our intentions to cover the whole of New Zealand in 2.5 weeks.  How could anyone possibly enjoy rushing through a country??  And after having done this, I certainly agree. But this whole issue of rushing and trying to pack everything in to a tight schedule speaks far more about our cultural differences around vacation than it does to personal travel preferences.  When one has only 2.5 weeks of vacation a year, it would make sense to try and maximize each moment, pack each vacation day.  If one saves up all of one's vacation time to use on a big trip, say 3 weeks, which on American terms is a VERY long vacation from work, then it would have to be used as optimally as possible. None of this lingering in one city for 2 weeks or not knowing where one might stay for half of the time.  Precious time might be lost! But in Australia, Europe, Canada, perhaps elsewhere, this is an utterly foreign concept.  Taking 2 months away is not uncommon at all. It is actually even more common to take 6, because, really, what can one see in 2 short months?!  So after initially feeling quite proud of myself, I have come to feel rather ordinary here.  Oh well.  I have found another reason to feel proud of myself, which brings me to the next topic of discussion: Port Stephens.

A lovely beach getaway, just 3 hours north of Sydney.  A place I traveled alone, by bus and train,  and stayed in a mostly outdoor hostel called Samurai Beach Bungalows YHA.  When I say mostly outdoor, I mean it was like camping and staying in cabins, in the 'bush', with VERY large spiders, snakes, and other creepy insects.  'Not to worry', the hostel owner assured me, 'We have 3 large boa constrictors here that take care of the baby browns (ie. most deadly poisonous snake in Australia), so I can walk everywhere barefoot.'  What a relief! His wife then pointed out the many varieties of spiders spinning webs in the bush next to my head, each quite unique, though all sharing a similar quality of largeness.  'And you might see Koalas in the trees at dusk.'  Ah, some good news!  I would have welcomed a Koala, but instead was only able to witness a very large possum living in the rafters of my cabin.  She must've been waking up about the time I was heading to bed. To her credit, she was much cuter than American possums.  Sort of a Koala-esque quality about her, all furry and cute, with bright eyes and a bushy tail, it almost made up for not actually seeing a real Koala.  

And the next reason for my self pride: I rented a bike at the hostel, and set out to bike around the area.  On said bike expedition, I encountered a tumble (thankfully in a quiet neighborhood, going extremely slow) and flew over the front of my bike.  I still have yet to figure out what caused this, as I was on a paved neighborhood road, without a car in sight, and was practically crawling at a snail's pace.  Nevertheless, here I was only a few miles from the beach, with a scraped up knee and shouder.  But in my backpack, I had my trusty first aid kit, and proceeded to clean out my wounds, put on the antibiotic ointment, and be on  my way.  For this stealth preparedness, I have to thank my husband Andy, who not only always reminds me to be prepared for the worst, but who packed my first aid kit full of all the needed items.  I thought of him immediately, and also wished he was there to offer some comfort, the one item not included in the kit :)

Sydney

Sydney is fabulous.  Of course, it helps that the weather has creeped up into the 70s, and the skies turned blue just in time for my trip. (Australia has been experiencing an extremely rainy summer, now turned to a sunny autumn, and I am certainly not complaining).  My dear friends Liz and Logan Williams have been showing me a great time, and I have loved getting to know their 2 year old Reid who now refers to me as 'Aunt Denn' (as in, Aunt Jenn).  Truly adorable.  I am certain that had Liz not been 9 months pregnant with her 2nd child (due just 2 weeks after my visit), she would have taken me on 12 mile day hikes in the wilderness (which Aussies refer to as 'walks').  Instead, we cut back to a 4 hour 'walk' each day and Liz set the pace - a pace that I had to push to keep up with.  Did I mention that she is 9 months pregnant?  Most women at 9 months have some difficulty maneuvering themselves around the house, let alone charging down hiking trails!  It is easy to see why Liz and Logan are eager to get outside and walk around, Sydney is full of gorgeous views...gorgeous beaches...parks everywhere...

Here is a shot of us above Bondi Beach, where we did the Bondi to Coogee 'walk'.

Marlborough Sound

Family Ties

 

Last week my mother and I traversed the Southern Island of New Zealand by plane, train, boat and auto.  From Wellington, we crossed the Cook Strait by ferry, and explored the winding roads of Marlborough Sounds. We biked through wine country (here, above, at our favorite vineyard TerraVin) and then boarded a train to Christchurch.  All this in 3 days.  You can imagine we were keeping a fast pace. Having originally planned this trip as an ancestry search of sorts, the last portion of our trip was devoted to meeting distant relations in Christchurch and Dunedin. What we found far surpassed our wildest hopes. 

A little back story: My great great grandmother, Sarah, was born in New Zealand sometime in the 1870s. She married James, an Irish immigrant to the new colony, and they had 2 children, the eldest of whom is my great grandma May.  Sarah died shortly thereafter and her grave is in Dunedin. James remarried and his wife Annie requested they move to San Fransisco around 1900, and thus began their American story.  James, Sarah and Annie all had family who remained in New Zealand.  And so 112 years later, my mom and I show up to meet the relatives!

Our first visit was to Annie's descendents.  We found cousin Neil and his wife in Christchurch and shared a lovely meal and tea with them in their home (which is also a gorgeous homestay, Dry Paddocks).  They shared their heartbreak over the recent destruction of Christchurch's Cathedral, following devastating earthquakes last year.  The next morning, we had a delightful visit with Neil's mother Joyce, who knew and hosted my grandparents on their visit 25 years ago.  We reminisced about their travels together and left feeling that our visit with her was far too short.  Then, we traveled to Dunedin, to stay with James' relations.  Robyn and John were our hosts, and we enjoyed 3 days with Robyn touring from Dunedin to Twizel to see Mt. Aoraki (Cook), also pictured above.  Robyn took us to see Sarah's grave, and also the home where James and Sarah, and later Annie, originally lived. As it turns out, Robyn is a geneology buff who has literally written books on the heritage of our families.  Amazing! We are now full to the brim with Kiwi hospitality, and our only regret is that the trip was far too short.  We will certainly be back.