When in a foreign country the best way to see and taste it is to have a friend show you around. If not paying for a local guide is well worth it.
Irina is Ukrainian though has lived in Hong Kong for over ten years. Her husband Alfred lived in the States for over twenty years, though he was born in Hong Kong… Alfred calls his wife Irina: The Local, as she knows every road, turn, shop, short-cut and place to eat in Hong Kong.
As my foot was swollen Irina reassured me that we would rarely walk in Hong Kong.
The metro (MTR), the buses, chair lifts, taxis, escalator sidewalks (yes you read that right) ferries… made me feel like I was an armchair traveler, my feet barely moved.
Irina does not read Chinese, nor speak it. But in Hong Kong it doesn't matter.
The menus, billboards, news articles etc. are doubled in both languages. Teasingly, I told French Husband I could learn Chinese by looking at the characters since they were written in both languages. Alfred burst my bubble by saying that the Chinese characters don't literally match the words in English, but the sense of what is being said.
Irina led us through Hong Kong with such ease, into and out of metros, moving sidewalks, into and out of shops, to little hidden restaurants, even Alfred was amazed. He rarely referred to his wife by her name, instead he called her "Local".
A few times Alfred would question her judgement, or tease her that she was exaggerating when she would say something like, "…there are three hundred islands that make up Kong." When actually there are 263. He was surprised when she knew of a elevator which we could take instead of stairs, or a bathroom in the middle of nowhere, or the perfect bookstore with only books published in Hong Kong, or the best hole in the wall place for sweet buns, tea, pearls, or a vista point.
We went to a fantastic place for lunch that only the locals go to… "Local, you fit right in!" With her blond hair and fair skin one would not guess she was more Chinese than Alfred.
I asked Alfred about something we were eating, such as what type of vegetable we were eating or something like that… He shook his head and laughed, "I don't know anything about vegetables, I am a city boy." Once I asked him something about the tradition or culture in Hong Kong, and he laughed again… "Not sure, aske Local." At this point I realized that Alfred with his dark skin, his eyes, and Chinese heritage was nothing more than a mask… I blurted, "Alfred you are not Chinese, you fooled me with your appearance, your slight accent, your language skills… Heck, you're not Chinese at all! Not even your first name is Chinese! You're Italian! Just add an "O" to your first name. " From then on I called him "Alfredo."
He loved it.
The Local and The Italian.
We went to SOHO in Hong Kong, because Alfredo thought it would be fun to pop into one of the main Chinese restaurants, and eat dim sum. He lead the way… he knew a place he said, we walked into Bistecca, an Italian restaurant..
I shrugged my shoulders, slapped his back, winked at Irina… Italian without a doubt!
Note:
Beautiful clothing by Lulu Cheung, Hong Kong designer.
Photographs of the famous flights that use to pass right through the middle of Hong Kong downtown: Daryl Chapman.
Brush and Shutter, early photography in China.
Gweilo: Memories of a Hong Kong Childhood.
Irina loves this collection of porcelain flowers, Vladimir Collection.
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