Lost in Hong Kong

Parenting is hard.  From those very first sleepless nights to the moment when you discover that your child knows more than you (on any subject – but most likely technology), the act of parenting can make one feel like a piece of paper that has been crumpled up and smoothed back out. Yes, it is a joyful and meaningful experience, but it is also exhausting and terrifying. As our three children have entered the teen/tween phase of life, I have been struck by just how delicate a balance one must strike between keeping the children safe (because let’s be honest, they aren’t done growing and developing yet… their frontal lobes are clearly not fully formed!), and having some faith that the lessons we’ve already taught them have actually sunk in (or that they will learn from the mistakes we aren’t too scared to let them make!).  Our current travels have brought this delicate balance into high definition for me and made me realize that I’d really like some form of parenting compass to help me know if I’m even on the right track.

Take for example our experiences riding the subway.  The metro system in Hong Kong is phenomenal; it is clean, easy to navigate, and safe.  It is a great place for us to practice having faith that our kids have learned a few things in life thus far.  At the same time, the metro is extremely crowded making it a somewhat scary place for the worried parent who can’t see her child in the crowd.  The short video clip below shows how quickly the metro can go from a serene ride to a chaotic one:

This past weekend we set off on the metro in search of a Buddhist garden and nunnery that had been recommended to us.  This expedition required a fairly lengthy subway ride with two transfers, including the long, dreaded walk from the blue line to the green line at Kowloon Tong station.  I say “dreaded walk” because the children can’t stand it when we have to walk behind someone whose moves are unpredictable because her eyes are glued to her device screen or someone who is moving at a snail’s pace because he is escorting his elderly mother through the long subway halls.  In order to avoid these frustrations, our kids often dart in and out of the human traffic, rushing ahead of us only to wait at a turn or escalator and then rush off again. 

It was in one of these moments of frustration that Maggie darted ahead of us.  James looked over his shoulder at me, rolled his eyes (as though he is immune to the kind of frustration Maggie was experiencing), and took off after Maggie.  We got to the final escalator leading down to the train platform and didn’t see Maggie or James.  So we descended, trusting that they knew to wait for us on the platform.  When we got all the way down we saw a train was just pulling out of the station; we found Maggie on the platform, but not James.  So we waited, watching the escalator, assuming James had gotten stuck in a snarl of traffic at the top and would be down in just a minute. 

We waited, and we waited.  No James.  Grace said, “I bet he got on that train that was leaving as we came down the escalator.”

“Why would he get on a train with out us? He knows better than that,” said Greg.

“Although, he was chasing after Maggie.  Maybe he thought she had gotten on the train and didn’t want her to be riding off alone,” I offered.

“I never saw him down here,” said Mags.

“This is exactly why we tell you guys to stick together!” I blurted.

“So what should we do?” Grace asked.

“He knows we are going to Diamond Hill station, so let’s go there and see if we can find him.  We have absolutely no way of communicating with him so this is the best we can do,” sighed Greg. “And we’re sticking together!”

“OK, but if we get there and he isn’t there, I’m coming back to look for him,” I said. “I just have this nagging sensation that he never came down the escalator.”

So we jumped on the next train and tried not to panic as we rode the 12 minutes to Diamond Hill.  James was not in the Diamond Hill station.  It was both a shock and not surprising at all.  Of course he wouldn’t get on a train without us.  But if he didn’t come ahead thinking he was keeping Maggie safe, then where was he?  How did we miss him in the Kowloon Tong station?  And more importantly, without a way to communicate with him, how on earth were we ever going to find him?  I was not worried about his safety.  As I said earlier, the Hong Kong metro system is clean and organized and safe.  What I was really worried about was James’ mental state.  Would he panic?  Would he be so worried about us getting mad at him that he would make a bad decision?

Greg and the girls agreed to stay at the Diamond Hill station in case James showed up.  I got back on the train and rode the excruciating 12 minutes back to Kowloon Tong.  When I arrived, I walked up and down the tracks, slowly scanning the crowd to see if James was anywhere on the platform.  After two trips from end to end, I was fairly certain he was not on the platform.  I went up the escalator hoping to see him waiting at the top, but I was sorely disappointed.  Not only did I not see James, but the crowd had thinned so that I could clearly see that he was nowhere around.  I paused, lowering my head in a moment of utter panic.  A wave of nausea spilled over me as I acknowledged that my son was lost in this enormous city, and I had no way to communicate with him. 

As the wave passed, I looked up and discovered that there were other escalators delivering travelers to this level from the platform.  I made my way quickly to the next escalator, pushing against the flow of traffic.  Just past the escalator, standing at a kiosk of sorts, was James.  I called his name, but he didn’t hear me.  I called out again as I rushed toward him. He looked up, and I could see the fear in his eyes fade away.  “Where were you??” he moaned.  I gathered him in my arms and just held him, not really sure how to answer his question.

Where was I?  Lost in my own doubts. Doubting my own parenting ability to keep him safe.  Doubting that he knew how to handle such a difficult situation.  Doubting that I’d ever taught him anything valuable.

Where was he? Standing at an internet kiosk (that I didn’t even know existed) sending me emails so I’d know where to look for him.  Creating a Facebook account so he could message my phone and get my attention.  Waiting at the last place I’d seen him (give or take 10 meters), just like we’ve taught the kids and the group (“If you get separated from the group, just go back to the last place you remember being with the group, and we’ll come find you.”). He might have been the one who was not with the family, but he was definitely NOT the one who was lost.

As James and I made our way back down to the platform so we could join Greg and the girls at Diamond Hill, he asked me if I had gotten his emails.  I looked at my phone and said, “I don’t have my data turned on.”

“So Mom, this is probably a good example of a situation when you might want to turn your data on. You know, so you can find your son?”

So maybe I am lost. But if my kids can show me the way, that’s something. Isn’t it?  

Museums in Hong Kong

By Maggie Muth

            Have you ever had plans to do something awesome and then realize you can’t do it? That’s what my day last Wednesday felt like.

            Because it was Wednesday, I wanted to go to the art museum with mom (all museums are free on Wednesdays). So we rode the subway down to Tsim Sha Tsui and walked to the art museum. Yay! Right? NO! It was closed and moving to a new location. But before I could cry, mom said, “Let’s go to the space museum!”

“Okay sounds fun,” I said. So we walked over to the space museum and saw a sign that said closed. As soon as I saw that sign I got so mad I tripped over my own shoes. “Let’s go find the science museum,” I said gloomily to mom. Mom was fine with this, but it was going to be a long walk.

After walking around for half an hour, I saw an escalator going up to a skywalk, and mom said, “Let’s go up there.” So we did. When we got to the top I saw this amazing garden. This was not a skywalk, it was a garden for movie stars! I saw a sign that said Star Gallery and I pointed it out to mom. So we went in that direction only to find a playground. Mom said I could play for a little bit, so I went right ahead. After playing for about an hour we kept walking towards the science museum. But first we went looking for lunch. Mom found this little restaurant and got wonton soup. I found a Subway (the restaurant not the station). So we walked and ate and finally we found the science museum! I finished my lunch super quick and ran inside. I was immediately overwhelmed by the contents. There were cars and planes and video games. There were optical illusions, mirrors, dinosaur skeletons, and electronics. There was even a giant marble run! We naturally spent three hours there and then headed home.

I guess our day ended up okay. I definitely learned that things don’t always go as planned, but there’s always a good story to tell.

In the director's chair at the Gallery of Stars

"Lights, camera, action!"

Feels good to be back on the playground!

Natural monkey?

Mirrors are awesome at the Science Museum!

When Up is Sideways

One of the “Top Ten” sites in Hong Kong is the view from the top the 1400ft Victoria Peak rising out of the harbor adjacent the downtown skyscrapers.  Now I will admit that the twinkling lights of the city at night viewed from above were quite nice, reasonably peaceful and worth the 30 minute wait to catch the tram but it was the tram ride itself that made the experience something to write home about.

Back in 1888, the Brits thought it would be a good idea to build a gravity-defying cable car that runs up the side of the peak.  Now for the last 127 years tourists have been braving the 48% incline up the side of the mountain.  For some perspective, the “steep” hills in San Francisco boast a whopping 32% incline (amatures!). 

But what does a 48% incline really mean?  What does it feel like to be stuffed in a cable car and hauled up the side of a mountain?  Weird.  Pretty dang weird.  Once we got on board and started the white-knuckle journey to the top (only about a ten minute ride) I glanced out the window and it felt as if I had stepped into and M.C. Escher painting.  While all around me everything was normal, the skyscraper outside the window appeared to be leaning at a rather precarious angle as if in a state of mid-tip over.  Going back down was even worse because we rode backwards (to prevent us from falling out of our seats) and we could look up through the skylights to see the buildings looming down on us as if they were in the process of falling to crush us like grapes at harvest time.

 

Needless to say getting there (and back) was definitely more that half of the fun.

Hong Kong Aviary

Hong Kong is a dazzling city, a feast for all the senses.  It is also incredibly easy to get around, making it a veritable playground for a tourist willing to get out a try a few things.  As part of the home school program I’m implementing with Maggie this month (Grace & James are actually taking the University art course, so they are excused from most of the home school activities for now), we are attempting to get out and explore this amazing city. 

On Monday, November 30, we thought we were going to go to the Science Museum.  But in a wonderful turn of events, Grace and James did not have to go to class and so asked to come along on our adventure.  James had picked up a guidebook and found the Hong Kong Botanical and Zoological Gardens entry describing what sounded like a wonderful adventure that was free.  He plead his case to the girls, convinced us all it was a good plan, and we left the hotel ready for an adventure.

Never let it be said that I have a good sense of direction.  I freely admit that this is one of my weaknesses.  I’m good with landmarks and reading maps, but just going on gut instinct about east vs. west is really not my thing.  So when we got off the subway and had to take a bus to get to the park, it was no surprise that I walked us toward the wrong bus station.  And then also had us get off the bus one stop too soon.  AND then walked us in the exact opposite direction of the Hong Kong Botanical and Zoological Gardens.

But there is lots of good news with this mistake.  The first is that my kids are learning to be ok with making mistakes.  We learn from them, and it gives us the opportunity to try and correct the mistake.  Second, sometimes the mistakes lead to really fun adventures, which was the case on this day.  Instead of finding the Zoo, we found Hong Kong Park, this fabulous oasis of green space in the middle of one of the most bustling urban areas in the world.

Right in the middle of Hong Kong Park is a wonderful aviary.  We entered the netted area (still thinking we might actually be in the zoo, by the way) and found ourselves in a tropical wonderland.  The space is built into the side of a hill, so the elevated boardwalk which served as our path went from the top of the hillside down to what was almost street level.  Every 10 meters or so there was a small platform allowing visitors to view the area on all sides.  As we made our way along the path, we were stunned by the number of birds we saw.  Many were hiding in the trees far off the path.  Several were feeding on the fruits and seeds that had been set out for them.  A brave few ventured onto the railings of the path and even approached visitors hoping for an extra treat.

In reality, the aviary in Hong Kong Park is probably no more spectacular than many aviaries in parks and zoos around the world.  But for us, I think the real joy of the day was finding it by accident, and then being able to delight in the experience so thoroughly.