In which I find myself in a time warp …
For the record, I’m working my tail off here. In reading these posts, it might seem as though I’m not, but I have a book contract and the final manuscript is due to the publisher in June and I have been writing nearly every day and I will make that deadline. And it wouldn’t be any more fun to read about research and writing than it would to write about it, so there. That said, I freely admit to sampling as much as I can from life’s rich pageant. For Christ’s sakes, I’m mean after all, I am in HK and it’s one of the world’s great cities. So I’m rolling with it and making sure I leave with stories to tell, and truth be told many of the best ones just aren’t fit for public consumption, but I do look forward to sharing them over cocktails with a select few folks upon my return.
So last night I found myself heading off to a party for the third night in row, as the first three days and nights of Chinese New Year’s are seriously celebrated here. If you are married, that first night, the family night, is celebrated with the husband’s family. The third day is “daughter’s day,” and it’s traditional that daughters return to spend the day with their side of the family. And the third night in HK is the fireworks display over Victoria Harbour. So my first two parties were, relatively speaking, rather staid affairs, though both were wonderful in their own way, and a foodie’s dream to boot. Last night’s fete was anything but staid; it was easily one of the best parties I’ve ever been to in my life.
I met this guy P through a friend and he’s a Californian like me, but he’s lived in Hong Kong for the last 20 years. He’s a really interesting guy and he’s funny as hell. I asked him way he’s stayed here for so long and he told me with a deadpan straight face that he loves brunettes and good food. Simple, but there’s a certain poetry to it. He has a penthouse flat on the 41st floor of a building in Tin Hau on HK Island right next to the water and last night’s affair was at his place. The roof is his, so right at eight everyone piled out onto it and watched the fireworks display, which was spectacular and the biggest such extravaganza I’ve ever seen, but it was still kind of surreal as the size of the show was nevertheless dwarfed by the surrounding buildings. What’s missing from the photo above from last night, which is widescreen, is the Kowloon side of the cityscape, which is massive and would be on the right-hand side of the frame if I had a lens big enough to encompass the entire panorama. And the part of the city that you do see is tiny compared to what you could see with your eyes live at the event. The Harbour is kind of like a valley floor and the buildings that encircle it form an amazing urban canyon wall. Very cool. And then things got nuts.
Again, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, there is a sick amount of money flying around HK—Wall Street hedge fund kind of money—and last night much of it was on full display as there was an international array of financial industry folks at the bash. I’ve never met anyone who worked in “boutique banking” in my life before last night, during which I met at least four. But there were also artists and writers and trustifarians and builders and teachers and tons of fashion industry folks and no shortage of administrative assistants, who in HK are the white collar equivalent of day laborers. And I keep going to these places where all these kinds of folks are gathered together and mixing and eating and drinking and so on, and last night as I looked around at this eclectic worldly array of people (6 continents were well represented) from all walks of life, I could’t help but think of the Roaring 20s’ Jazz Age and The Left Bank and Gerald and Sara Murphy and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and Hemingway’s Movable Feast and all that it entails. The similarities are in some ways quite striking.
Hong Kong is a transient place and it’s full of seekers and dreamers, some who’ve already made their fortune and some who are still trying, but many of whom seem to be looking for something, some missing idea or mystical revelation that will guide them to a metaphysical self-awareness that will help them discover the secret for whatever internal puzzle it is with which they’re wresting. You can see it in people’s eyes and, if you listen carefully, hear it in the underlying tone of their conversations. There’s a kind of spiritual desperation underlining a lot of endeavors here, but there’s also a lot of beauty. I think to date HK has been best described to me by my friend TM, a fascinating guy in his own right, who says people come to the island and never leave because you don’t have to grow up here, and there’s a lot of truth in that observation.
That said, in addition to the 20s feel here, there’s also a very 1980s vibe happening and at times last night I felt as though I was watching an 80s era Bret Easton Ellis novel unfold before my eyes. In addition to drinking by the gallon, among a certain set in HK illegal substances are still very much in vogue, one of which is is ingested through a rolled up bill and that I haven’t seen since, well, the 80s. And people also still regularly roll on E here, and I haven’t seen that since the early 90s. Illegal things are widely available and oft used in HK, hence my reference to Ellis, which was made even more vivid when at a certain point people started pairing up in every way imaginable, with folks of all nationalities and colors breaking off into twosomes and threesomes and moresomes, and combinations of boys and girls, and boys and boys, and girls and girls and younger and older and so on and so forth. It was fascinating and crazy and fun as hell to watch all this unfold. Holy moly, but I am not in Bedford Falls anymore!
As of this moment I’m embarking on a few days of well-deserved detox and reflection, which seems entirely appropriate after the last three days. Kung Hei Fat Choy!
