Dusting Off the Suitcase

Here’s a type of announcement I haven’t made in a long while: I’m traveling to Hong Kong today! (Thank you, as usual, to Art Basel and Art Central for the VIP program invitations.)

It’ll be my first time traveling since before the pandemic (my last trip was over four years ago, to Buenos Aires and the Patagonia region of Argentina and Chile, which I wrote about in the early 2020 blog post “Alegría”), making this the longest I’ve gone my entire life without traveling (yes, including when I was little—my About page has always included “globe-trotting polyglot” among my many distinctions, after all).

And it’ll be my first time back in the Fragrant Harbour in five years, since March 2019:

Some of my iPhone 5s* photos from that trip.
*(Except for that narrow selfie my cousin took on his phone.)

(In the above collage: the top left photo is from my blog post “‘Life’s too short for sad art’ // A preview of HKwalls 2019”; the top right is from my honed-from-years-of-experience guide “How to make the most of Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night // or, Art Basel Hasn’t Even Started Yet and My Legs Are Already Tired”; the second row left is of self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip and his partner Yim Tom, both of whom I’d met the previous year and whose studio visit was a highlight; the entire third row is from Take Your Cousin to Work Day the morning my maternal cousin Philip Ng, a martial artist and actor, brought me to TVB; and the middle photo in the fourth row is of my late paternal grandma on the evening I finally got to visit her home in the Pak Tin public housing estate.)

Long-time followers of this blog will remember that I took solo trips to Hong Kong every year from 2012-2019 (and in 2017 my mom tagged along to record her Cantonese opera album!).

This will also be my first time back after my paternal grandmother’s passing from pancreatic cancer (I wrote about her and my maternal grandmother, who raised me and is ten years older than the former and still with us but has dementia, in my November 2020 blog post “A Tale of Two Grandmothers // On Memory”); it’s going to be strange being there and not being able to ramble around country parks with her like I used to, or try to figure out how to rearrange the contents of my hotel’s mini fridge in order to fit all the apples she always greeted me at the airport with, or sit next to her at the banquet-style family dinner we’d have with everyone and get food for her first before getting mine, internally reveling in being able to step into my role as the mature, eldest cousin on my dad’s side (a role I don’t often get to play since I’m one of the youngest cousins on my mom’s side). But also, I’m a different person than I was in 2012 when I was a whippersnapper and had no idea what I was doing (not that I think I know what I’m doing now), and it was like my Hong Kong uncles and grandma were making sure this kid traveling on her own was looked after.

My Facebook status at the end of my first full day alone in Hong Kong, 2012.

It’s the kind of change that comes with growing up, isn’t it?

Anyway, I’m looking forward to it, especially since so many new things have popped up in Hong Kong over the years I’ve been away. And since I’ll also be visiting Shenzhen for the first time in a decade!

While I’m overseas, you can: follow along on my socials; view my artwork currently on display in the exhibition Click at The Art Center Highland Park; reserve a copy of LAMINATOR Vol. 1, my brand new zine featuring 68 artists, poets, and writers from around the world (also available in the gift shop of the aforementioned art center while supplies last) (I mailed all pre-orders last week and it’s been so exciting to see folks receive and post about their zines these past couple days!); and collect art from a few of the artists in said publication.

Lastly, some miscellany:

On Threads and Mastodon.

• And these were my two thoughts while watching this year’s Oscars—very different from last year’s ceremony.

See you on April 2, Chicago!

Mobility

I’m delighted to announce that I’ve been awarded an Honorable Mention in the 12th Annual Mobile Photography Awards for my 2015 photo In the Sky in the Silhouettes category! Thank you, MPA!

(Shot on my iPhone 5s, it’s a candid of my late paternal grandmother silhouetted against Kowloon on the 100th floor off the tallest building in Hong Kong. Browse more of my mobile photography here.)

And in case you missed the previous post: I’ve been chosen to exhibit my artwork at CICA Museum in Korea! I’ll be featured in the international exhibition Color 2023, which will be held 13 September to 1 October.

P.S. Turn up.

Euclidean

I’m delighted to announce that I’ve been selected to exhibit my 2015 photo Pythagorean (outside the Hong Kong Cultural Centre) in The Chateau Gallery’s The Art of Street Photography online exhibition! And “this was easily the most competitive competition [the gallery director] and guest jurors had ever seen!”

Thank you, Chateau Gallery.

This is the third show I have a piece in this month so far! Take a look at the previous posts for the other two.

For Love

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I’m pleased to announce that I’ve been selected to exhibit my 2015 drawing Mood (of Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung in Wong Kar Wai’s beautiful film In the Mood for Love) in Gallerium Art Exhibitions’ Valentine 2022 international online group exhibition, and my artwork will also be published in The Book of Arts: Valentine publication!

Thank you, Gallerium!

And in case you missed it last week, see the previous post for another new show announcement.

A Tale of Two Grandmothers // On Memory

This day is one of death and life, but so are all days.

A candid I took of my paternal grandma in the
Hong Kong Railway Museum, March 2018.
Exhibited at the Chicago Public Library, May 2019.

This morning my paternal grandma passed away at the age of 86, surrounded by family in Hong Kong. We knew this was coming. She was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer in the beginning of August, and it was inoperable and chemo wasn’t possible, so it was a death sentence. We didn’t tell her; think back to the film The Farewell. And lately she was on her literal death bed; the past few nights when we should’ve been sleeping, my dad would have his video chat on all night so that he could, in a way, be with her when it happened. I’d fall asleep (and oftentimes wake up in the middle of the night) to hospice noises and the sound of her labored breathing. I didn’t want to see her like that, wasting away. I wanted to remember her as she was. And who she was made me shocked when the diagnosis came, despite her age. She was so active and independent and self-sufficient. If you’ve been following my travels over the years you might remember that, every time I visit HK for Art Basel, she and I would literally hike around mountains together. She lived by herself, and she was always walking all over the city on her own, and she was always so sharp.

Pancreatic cancer is brutal. I won’t go into the details of her rapid deterioration but I empathize with anyone who’s had loved ones suffer through it. My parents and I paid attention to Alex Trebek’s journey more closely than the average person might because of my paternal grandma, and when he died a couple weeks ago, it filled me with dread.

Today is also a celebration of a life. It’s my maternal grandma’s 96th birthday according to the Western/solar calendar. She’s an immigrant and lives in the Chicago metropolitan area.

One of the photos my uncle texted us of my maternal grandma looking so
pleased after winning mahjong on various days in July and August 2020.

We always celebrated her Chinese/lunar one, which usually falls around December, but this year we decided to observe her Western one early; according to superstition, if my paternal grandma died, we wouldn’t be able to go to my maternal grandma for 49 days. (The irony is my maternal grandma isn’t superstitious, but some other relatives are, and we respect their wishes.) I guess I should backtrack a little before I continue, though.

I’ve been staying home since March. Home being my parents’ house. My parents are 63, so I knew back then, as I cancelled the physical show for SLAYSIAN when Illinois’ total cases exponentially jumped to 66, that if I didn’t come to them as soon as possible (I remember I had one last errand to run before hunkering down), I wouldn’t be able to see them for who knows how long.

We’ve been living like we’re under lockdown this entire time, nonsensical “reopening” be damned. We still get curbside pickup for groceries and sanitize them before bringing them in. We got takeout once, for my parents’ anniversary. We don’t even take walks around the neighborhood; I see too many people without masks outside. When it was warm out, my dad and I would simply walk around the perimeter of the house (how funny we must’ve looked to anyone who might’ve seen us).

Like I said before, I’ve been a germaphobe since I was 10 (it began when we were given a notice that strep throat was going around, and I suddenly flashed back to the trauma of catching it from different classmates over and over when I was 6), so on the one hand it’s like most of my life has prepared me for this, but on the other hand this is pretty much my worst nightmare. We’ve been strict, with me being the strictest and the enforcer. The only times I’ve ventured beyond our yard were when I had to go to my childhood orthodontist for a retainer concern (“Welcome to the outside!” the staff joked to me) and when we drop off freshly homemade food and other snacks for my maternal grandma every month.

We have a system. My maternal grandma lives with one of my uncles and his household. They have a table on one end of their garage. We arrive and park in their driveway, they open the garage door, we place our gifts on the table, and we stay at that open end (I sometimes stand directly under the garage door and think back to my childhood fear of being decapitated that way) while they’re at the other end. We briefly say hi and exchange a few words and maybe take a photo of the two of them from this distance. We drive away as they watch us, and my grandma waves, and I wave back. In July I overheard my mom saying that every time she says goodbye to her mother there’s a feeling of sadness, and I mentally agreed. Pre-pandemic, my mom would spend time with my grandma at least a couple times a week: Sunday dim sum and errands in Chinatown, a weekday dinner at their favorite neighborhood restaurant.

My maternal grandmother is also the woman who raised (and spoiled) me when my parents went to work. We were close. I was her favorite, which boosted my ego because she has 20-something grandchildren.

I use past tense because her memory has been fading. (This is why, for those of you who follow me on social media, over the summer I was delighted to learn that she still remembers how to play—and win—mahjong, pictured above.) Before the pandemic, this was my #1 stressor. It was on Christmas 2019 that she officially forgot who I was. And it felt even worse to me that it was an otherwise joyful moment. We were at her house for the annual Christmas party with extended family and it was the end of the night and an aunt was trying to shuffle her off to bed so we were saying our goodbyes, and she forgot who I was and did not remember raising me. It was bittersweet because she was genuinely praising me and joking, “Oh, I must have done a good job then!” and doing it so cheerily and rubbing my arm and looking at me with kindness and wonder, yet I couldn’t help but let the tears flow as I smiled and nodded sadly with everyone watching us. Without context it was a cute exchange—she was even saying how tall I was (I’m 5’1”)—but I felt like I was dreaming. It was like her true self—her innate personality and humor—shined through, like she was seeing me objectively since she wasn’t beholden to our decades of memories and experiences together. It revealed to me that every version of her would like or love me, that if she met me for the first time she would still feel the same, and she’s always been the kind of strong, opinionated, firecracker of a woman who’d just as easily let it be known if she didn’t like someone. Still, it was a pain I’d never felt before. Earlier, I’d thought I’d be OK with it like Miguel in Pixar’s Coco, but I wasn’t. Then again, unlike Miguel, I’d lived an entire life with her.

Then COVID-19 hit and my priorities completely changed. On March 1, the last time I went to yum cha and before the location of the state’s 4th case was confirmed (we’d received news of it from a cousin who saw a post by a local hospital worker that said Arlington Heights), I suspected community spread and shifted to survival mode for my family. And when your mindset shifts to staving away death, sickness, and suffering, everything else can seem so trivial. I was now happy my grandmother was alive and safe, and I would do everything to keep it that way. Her memory loss also became a silver lining to me: She wouldn’t have to worry about what was happening (she barely knows what’s going on); she wouldn’t have to miss me. I became OK. Throughout the pandemic I’ve even joked about her condition with my mom (imitating a little old lady voice, “Who are these two women who bring me snacks every month?” “She probably doesn’t even remember the previous visit; the snacks are a nice surprise each time”).

So, two days ago it was a race against time for my mom to bake my maternal grandma a cake and for us to drive the 8 or so miles to her, hurriedly wish her a happy birthday, and then get back in the car and leave, before anything happened to my paternal grandma.

We made it, as my paternal grandma held on. She clung to life until all the HK family could be at her bedside at once, holding her hand and bidding farewell. I couldn’t be with her as she was dying of course, but I don’t regret it. I will now always remember her as she was in life: Loud, fierce, hiking mountains in her 80s. Life and death may have been on my mind, but so has memory.

I’m suddenly thinking back to when my maternal grandfather died, on Father’s Day—the Father’s Day that the Bulls won their 4th championship and the first one Michael Jordan won without his father—when I was 8. That was a death that changed my life in so many ways, and marked the end of one era and the beginning of another: I wrote my first diary entry; my mom eventually quit her job; [because] my grandma, who used to live in the house across the street from the one I grew up in (my parents had intentionally moved there so she could babysit me), moved out of that house and started anew. There were too many memories there for her. After staying with us for a little while, she moved to Palatine, where she’s been ever since.

Life is strange and everything can change so quickly. Now more than before I think about how little time we have with our loved ones. The years are fast.

This day is one of life and death, but on this day I celebrate both my grandmothers’ lives. On this day I choose to celebrate life.


P.S. Something I was always proud of was how both my grandmothers admired each other. They’d always individually praise each other to me, telling me how they thought the other was so impressive and such a good person. They have so many children and thus so many in-laws, yet it was my grandmothers who connected. In my youth I’d joke how it was a testament to how powerful I was. (Of course, being my maternal grandmother’s favorite probably didn’t hurt.)

P.P.S. Oh, the limits of the English language. In Chinese we have completely different words to distinguish between one’s maternal and paternal grandmothers.

How to make the most of Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night // or, Art Basel Hasn't Even Started Yet and My Legs Are Already Tired

Guys, I did it. I managed to attend 14 opening receptions within 2 hours* at Hong Kong’s Art Gallery Night tonight. And I was handed champagne at almost each one. And my last two stops required me hiking up a mountain (not really but it was uphill and that’s hard as a Midwesterner OK). *(Might I suggest that not every Hong Kong gallery host their event from 6-8pm on the same night?)

Leonardo Drew at Pearl Lam Galleries (no relation).
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

My expert-level (half-kidding… but seriously) route that I recommend to anyone who’d want to see the highest concentration of high quality art within a limited amount a time (and, suffice it to say, the pictured pieces and linked exhibitions are my highlights / picks if you can only view a few):

If you’re taking public transit, exit at the Central MTR station. Arrive a little early and walk into the luxurious Landmark, where there’s always an art installation suspended from the ceiling. Once it’s time, start your gallery-hopping next door at the Pedder Building, which I’ve been visiting every single year I’ve been doing my annual Art Basel Hong Kong trip. Take the elevator to the top floor and work your way down via the stairs. This year’s Hong Kong Art Week / Hong Kong Arts Month, you’ll hit Leonardo Drew at Pearl Lam Galleries (no relation) on the sixth floor; What’s Up/Hong Kong on the fifth; Yeh Shih-Chiang: Edge of Sea and Sky at Hanart TZ Gallery (I always love coming here for Chinese art) and Edwin Wurm at Lehmann Maupin on the fourth; Overheated at Massimo De Carlo, Yoan Capote at Ben Brown Fine Arts, and Heimo Zobernig at Simon Lee Gallery on the third.

Vibing out to music at Yeh Shih-Chiang's Edge of Sea and Sky
at Hanart TZ Gallery. Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

Then, walk west on Queen’s Road and go to H Queen’s, which was a new destination last year. Again, take the elevator to the highest floor that has art and work your way down. This year, you’ll hit Zhang Yanzi: Seclusion at Ora-Ora on the seventeenth floor, Louise Bourgeois at Hauser & Wirth on the sixteenth and fifteenth, Mary Course at Pace Gallery on the twelfth, Unlock at Tang Contemporary Art on the tenth, Zhou Yangming: Continuum at Pearl Lam Galleries (yes, they have a second location here) on the ninth, and Miwa Komatsu: Divine Spirit at Whitestone Gallery on the eighth and seventh.

Stomping down seventeen flights in a stairwell can get tedious (as well as dizzying); good thing there’s a “site-specific public art experience” throughout the stairwell called Exit Strategies. (Fun fact: When I was 18 at Columbia, I built a 12-ft.-tall site-specific sculpture in what I thought was an abandoned stairwell and the grad students filed a complaint about it/me to OSHA. (Yes, that’s what that line refers to in my “About” page.) Thank goodness for my professor Lisi Raskin who had my back. Eventually, I destroyed my sculpture as part of my project. The transience of art! My piece was called Asymptote and remains one of the craziest and greatest things I’ve done, to be honest.)

HOCA Foundation | KAWS: Along the Way at PMQ.
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

For the third and final leg, walk west and up all those steps that plague I mean characterize Sheung Wan to get to the Hollywood Road gallery area. I went for KAWS: Along the Way presented by HOCA Foundation at PMQ and Okuda: Digital Zoo at La Galerie – Paris 1839.

Okuda: Digital Zoo at La Galerie - Paris 1839.
Hong Kong's Art Gallery Night 2019.

Of course, there are galleries you’ll be skipping, but you can’t see everything in two hours. (Before H Queen’s existed, after the Pedder Building, I’d also visit the galleries around Ice House Street as well as attempt to see White Cube and others on Connaught Road.)

Note that I’m not factoring in any time for socializing—I purely viewed the art—so your mileage may vary. (I did, however, run into the HKwalls folks at the Okuda show.)

Lastly, this goes without saying for me (since I’m always in sneakers) but might not be as obvious to everyone else: Wear comfortable shoes.

And that’s the first night of Hong Kong Art Week! See you at the fairs!

“Life’s too short for sad art” // A preview of HKwalls 2019

(As you know from my previous post, I’m in Hong Kong for Art Basel right now. Hello from the true city that never sleeps! Upon my arrival last night, I had a late dinner with my paternal grandma and uncles at nearly 10pm on a weeknight in a food court in Mongkok, Kowloon, and it was still packed. I love it.)

I write this with multiple cocktails* in my system. *(Went with my old favorite: Old-Fashioneds. Thank you to HKwalls for treating us!) Today I had the pleasure of attending the HKwalls Media Preview, in which I, well, previewed the 2019 edition of Hong Kong’s annual street art festival, which has impressively expanded this year to include a multi-floor alternative art space called The Clubhouse—renovated from a traditional tong lau, which had previously fallen into disrepair, to be an inclusive venue where people can view art, make art, and hang out—as well as many other public interactive (also my favorite) art activities that will take place this week; got a [hot and humid (not that I’m complaining considering the brutal winter we had in the Midwest)] guided tour of all the art to come throughout the Wan Chai neighborhood, where the festival will be held this year; and, alongside the participating street artists, was treated to a sit-down family-style dinner (which none of us anticipated, going, “I didn’t know we were getting a full meal…”) and drinks at an Italian American restaurant (said one of the artists to me, “It’s not like there’s any pizza or Italians in Chicago…”).

Waiting on the 3rd floor of The Clubhouse before the HKwalls 2019
Media Preview. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

In The Clubhouse, we watched artist talks and demonstrations, including a hands-on encaustic painting workshop by Elizabeth Briel, who uses local beeswax. You all know how much I love data and mapping, so Elizabeth’s mention of a project of hers caught my attention; she has encaustic pieces of photos she took all over Hong Kong, each a square foot in size, and she’s selling each one for the same price of real estate per sq. ft. in the corresponding location where she took each picture.

Elizabeth Briel's encaustic workshop, HKwalls 2019 Media Preview
at The Clubhouse. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

(She herself lives in a 150 sq. ft. apartment in Sham Shui Po, Kowloon. Honestly, though? Despite the size—and despite my admitted initial reaction of “That’s crazy!”—it sounds nice; it’s a rounded building, and her outer wall is all windows. To compare, my dad and his brothers grew up in the famed Shek Kip Mei public housing projects, where multiple families resided in 120 sq. ft. concrete units, with the only window in each one looking out onto a narrow corridor. Like I said in that classic blog post I just linked to, however, they were happy. And now I truly digress.)

Erig Ng, HKwalls 2019 Media Preview at The Clubhouse.
Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Another talk by artist Eric Ng involved a fun and wholesome little skit featuring “Mr. Bean.” In keeping with all that’s good and pure, around the corner outside, San Francisco-based street artist fnnch was spray-painting one of his Honey Bears. “Honey bears make me happy,” he explained. “Life’s too short for sad art.”

fnnch, HKwalls 2019. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Over 30 street artists will be creating colorful murals for the festival this week. One piece that’s already been completed is INSA’s “gif-iti” mural; if you download his app and view his piece through it, the image moves!

INSA, HKwalls 2019. Wan Chai, Hong Kong.

Towards the end of the dinner and drinks, since I happen to be wearing my Logan Square Blue Line CTA station t-shirt and carrying my Block Club Chicago Founding Member tote bag (hey, being Chicagoan and proud is a thing, man), fnnch caught me by surprise when he turned to me and went, “So, Chicago!” and proceeded to tell me he knows Logan and chatted with me about the Chicago places where he’s painted murals. (It’s always wild and beautiful and wild to talk about ­­­the familiarity of home out of context halfway around the world.) I learned something today; apparently, San Francisco doesn’t really have a street art scene (particularly of the under-40 generation), which is good news for fnnch and, like, his four peers so they’ve pretty much monopolized that area. (And that was a tangent about being an artist in San Francisco.)

HKwalls officially begins tomorrow (March 23), with an opening party at The Clubhouse (6 Steward Rd.). Check their website for a mural map, a schedule of events such as workshops, and more. Everything is free and open to the public.

Equinox

Happy first day of spring! I’m going on my annual Hong Kong trip for Art Basel today! (Thank you, as always, to Basel, Art Central, Asia Contemporary Art Show, et al. for the VIP program invitations!) Feel free to follow along on Twitter and Instagram for live updates and photos of my travels. Anticipate a blog post or two as well. (One of my highlights from last year? A studio visit with self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip.)

To celebrate the season: The dyed green Chicago River in 2018.

Until I’m back on April 3, you can: Apply to Line Dot Editions’ 3rd Annual Open Call Group Show (I’m one of the guest judges); look forward to my upcoming exhibit at the Chicago Public Library during May in celebration of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month; and vote in the Chicago mayoral runoff election before (like I did) or on April 2. Be a part of history!

Wordplay: An Artist Studio Visit with Fung Ming Chip

A week ago while I was in Hong Kong, I spent a lovely morning visiting the Sai Ying Pun studio of self-taught artist Fung Ming Chip, whose work has been included in collections at the Met and LACMA.

Fung Ming Chip in his studio (also his and Yim Tom's
home) showing me and fellow Chicagoan Inez Suen
his calligraphic artwork.

Thank you again, Ming and Yim, for welcoming me into your home, for your hospitality (tea, food, hugs), and—Ming—for waking up hours before you normally do to meet me (he usually gets up after noon—hashtag artist life).

Ming deconstructs Chinese calligraphy and pushes the medium in directions I never thought possible. With all the layers and depth, his pieces are “unphotographable,” and that need to see them in person is kind of the distinction between East vs. West; there’s an intimacy with traditional Chinese art in general, and before you open a scroll you don’t know what you’re about to find—you’re in for a surprise each time.

Also… Ming doesn’t have a website or anything, so you really do have to see his work in person!

Ming is also a photographer and showed us Polaroids he took back in the day.

If you’d like to reach Ming, get in touch with Yim Tom. She’s the wonderful woman I met at the Art Basel VIP Private View—in the Collectors Lounge someone called my name and it was a Chicago friend, Inez Suen, and Inez was there with Yim—and was the one from whom I learned “about how British colonial rule deliberately suppressed the development of culture and national identity in Hong Kong” (one of my “truth bombs” in my caption for this photo of me on Instagram and Facebook). And she and Ming are married, and they’re the perfect pair.

ABC in HK // Nathan Tseng

ABC in HK is a new mini interview series amplifying the voices of Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots / motherland, whether it’s for work or any other reason. These are their stories, their struggles, their triumphs, their dreams.

If you’re a Chinese American (either an ABC—a.k.a. American-born Chinese—or Chinese who grew up in the US) currently living in Hong Kong and would like to participate, see the call here.

I’m back (from—no surprise here—Hong Kong), so this project is too. For its return, meet Nathan Tseng, and ABC who actually spent his adolescent years in Hong Kong before moving as an adult. His description of an “identity crisis”—feeling more American when in Hong Kong, feeling more Chinese when in America—is something many can relate to.

Photo courtesy of Nathan Tseng

Name: Nathan Tseng

Title & Occupation: Web Developer at Spacious.hk

Where you were born and grew up: Cupertino, CA

When you moved to Hong Kong: I actually first moved to Hong Kong at the age of 10 in 1994 and went to high school here. I moved back to the US for college and then came back again in 2011 for work.

Why you moved to Hong Kong: First time was with family. The second time I came back was myself wanting to try out the job market here. I was also in a long distance relationship with my now wife.

Tell me a little about yourself! Basically, what’s your story?

My parents are originally from Hong Kong, but they both immigrated to North America in their teens: my mom to Canada following the riots of 1966 and my dad to the US for college. When I was born, my dad was working in Cupertino and I had a typical suburban upbringing during my formative years. Although Cupertino is considered a majority Asian suburb these days, it was mostly white back then and that’s how I remembered it. Since my parents had spent so many years in North America, I actually spoke mostly English at home unlike many other Asian families we knew.

When I was 10, my grandpa convinced my dad to move back to Hong Kong to help out with the family business. Moving at that age, especially to another country, was difficult. Although I had travelled to Hong Kong a number of times, living here was a different story. Making new friends was difficult, and so was getting used to the densely populated city life. My parents sent me to international school and I can only imagine how much more difficult it would have been had I gone to a local Cantonese speaking school. On the other hand, because of that, I think it took me a long time to understand local Hong Kong culture, which I eventually came to love and appreciate.

I went back to the States for college, first UT Austin for undergraduate and then University of Washington where I did a Masters in Urban Planning. I didn’t quite follow my father’s footsteps; I guess I was still trying to discover what my interests were after those years living in Hong Kong. I did experience some reverse culture shock moving back to the US. For example, football is very big in Texas and I didn’t quite understand the hype since it wasn’t something I kept up with living in HK. I joined some Asian American groups, but also realized that my life experiences differed from theirs; many people I met hadn’t even been to Asia before!

In 2011, I was living in Seattle and while I enjoyed it there very much, I wanted to try the job market in Hong Kong because of my interest in urban development and planning. Unfortunately, being a planner meant I needed native Chinese language skills and sadly my written Chinese skills weren’t up to par. At that time, I decided to stay here though, since I started seeing my now wife, whom I married last Christmas. I ended up doing a few odd jobs, including part time English tutoring, before I ended up getting a job at Spacious, a local online real estate platform, as a software developer. Funny how I ultimately ended up following my dad’s footsteps in a way!

Vernal

It’s spring, and you know what that means: I’m traveling to Hong Kong today! (Thank you, once again, to Art Basel, Asia Contemporary Art Show, et al. for the VIP program invites!) If you aren’t following me on Instagram and Twitter already, now’s the time to start; I’ll be sharing live updates and photos throughout my trip. (Also, SUE the T. rex—everyone’s favorite large murderbird—follows me [and occasionally replies to completely non-science-related thoughts of mine], a fact that brings me great joy every time I suddenly remember it. So yes, be like SUE.) (Granted, the likes of Ai Weiwei and Beck follow me too, but SUE’s the biggest celebrity here to my former [and current] nerdy self. Well, literally. But still.)

Some of my phone* photos from last year.
*(Except for the one of me, which my mom took.)
I love how my images are mostly of women,
even Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy).

I’ll be back on April 4. ‘Til then: Read my new (launched it last week!) ongoing interview series, ABC in HK, amplifying the voices—and the stories, struggles, triumphs, and dreams—of Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots, here and on Medium (and view the call for voices, which I’ve added a couple updates to, here); and look forward to my upcoming exhibit at the Chicago Public Library during May in celebration of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.

ABC in HK // Sylvia Chong

ABC in HK is a new mini interview series amplifying the voices of Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots / motherland, whether it’s for work or any other reason. These are their stories, their struggles, their triumphs, their dreams.

If you’re a Chinese American (either an ABC—a.k.a. American-born Chinese—or Chinese who grew up in the US) currently living in Hong Kong and would like to participate, see the call here.

For the second installment of this project (here’s the first one), meet Sylvia Chong, an ABC from the Heartland. Read about what it was like for her to grow up as the only Asian around and how moving to Hong Kong gave her a stronger sense of self and belonging.

Photo courtesy of Sylvia Chong

Name: Sylvia Chong

Title & Occupation: Senior customer support at Basecamp, a project management software.

Where you were born and grew up:

I was born in Starkville, Mississippi (my birth certificate lists me as “Oriental”). When I was 2 weeks old, I moved to Grand Forks, North Dakota. I lived in Kenosha, Wisconsin, and went to college at the University of Oklahoma.

When you moved to Hong Kong: July 2010.

Why you moved to Hong Kong: I moved to HK for law school. In 2012, I graduated with a JD.

Tell me a little about yourself! I care about food, friends, and American pop culture.

What have been the biggest challenges you’ve faced since moving to Hong Kong?

The language—and being a Midwestern ABC—was odd. It was a huge culture shock; I didn’t grow up with any other Asians, so I didn’t know a lot about holidays or cultural norms. It was pretty hard living somewhere where I was expected to know certain things and I just had no idea. I’m not fluent in Cantonese now, but I can get around all right on my own.

ABC in HK // Kin Wong

ABC in HK is a new mini interview series amplifying the voices of Chinese Americans who’ve returned to their roots / motherland, whether it’s for work or any other reason. These are their stories, their struggles, their triumphs, their dreams.

If you’re a Chinese American (either an ABC—a.k.a. American-born Chinese—or Chinese who grew up in the US) currently living in Hong Kong and would like to participate, see the call here.

To kick off this project, meet Kin Wong. When I emailed him my questions I knew that he and I had NYC in common (he’s a native New Yorker and I lived there during college). What I didn’t know was that he moved to Hong Kong just two months ago, he’s from a family of undocumented immigrants, he’s a fellow INJ (T here), and he survived 9/11. And that he’s quite the storyteller. Digest every word. I know I did.

Photo courtesy of Kin Wong

Name: Kin Wong

Title & Occupation: Project & Services Director for an Office Interior Design & Construction Company

Where you were born and grew up: New York City

When you moved to Hong Kong: I arrived January 8th, 2018.

Why you moved to Hong Kong: I moved to start a new job here.

Tell me a little about yourself! Basically, what’s your story?

This can go in several directions so I’ll start broadly and then focus on my Hong Kong move.

I have an older brother and older sister who were both born in Hong Kong but left when they were young. (My brother has not returned to his birth country since then.) My family illegally immigrated to the US and then in 1976, I was born in New York City. We were poor but my hard-working parents eventually built a middle-class life for us. My mother’s plan for her children: go to school, get good grades, go to college, get a steady corporate desk job. (She later added marriage for us and grandchildren for her but I never followed up on those two.) She never pushed us to be doctors or lawyers so we had to figure out what we wanted to do.

I followed her plan and went with the flow. I studied business in college but ended up doing I.T. for about 20 years for the company that hired me right out of school.

Two major life events were September 11 and my mother’s death from brain cancer.

I was on the 80th floor of Two World Trade Center when the first plane hit Tower One. I’m alive today because I did everything right that day. A small Hong Kong interior design company was rebuilding our Hong Kong office when we asked them to drop everything to rebuild our New York City office. I soon became friends with the interior design company’s owner. (Spoiler alert: This friendship is important later.)

My mother died in September 2004. My siblings and I cared for her for over a year after her brain cancer diagnosis. Initially it was an emotional roller coaster ride of good and bad news. But the last 6 months were a helpless decline until her end at age 61.

Those two events left a profound mark on my life. They made me appreciate life, friends, and family more. (As part of that appreciation, I bought a motorcycle after 9/11, but hid it from my mother, of course.) My mother’s passing left me lost about my life’s direction. It caused me to question whether a steady corporate desk job was the best way to spend my precious time on this planet. I searched for a meaningful purpose but never found it. (I’m not poo-pooing steady corporate desk work for anyone else.)

I was unhappy with my job for a long time and waited for a kick-in-the-pants to leave that never came. Even after a corporate takeover was announced, I was offered a position at the new company. It was then that my Hong Kong interior design friend offered me a job to work with him in Hong Kong. So many things about the offer lined up with what I thought (and still think) I was looking for in a job/career/life, especially given the lessons I learned after surviving 9/11 and losing my mother. This was better than that kick-in-the-pants I was waiting for. It was like winning the lottery.

How would you personally compare Hong Kong with NYC?

Hong Kong is bigger but feels more densely populated. I do not find Hong Kong easily walkable; you need to know inter-building corridors, overpasses, underpasses, bridges, and tunnels. I also find it dirtier here. I’m waiting to see how I fare in the summer humidity. There’s no Amazon.com here, which is both good and bad, I guess. Transportation here is cheap. Get used to not having hot water on demand. Small apartments.

What have been the biggest challenges you’ve faced since moving to Hong Kong?

While I have no problem living in HK, my biggest challenge has been job-related. I’m having a hard time adjusting my personality conflicts (INFJ) to suit my new job. My old job was very comfortable in that it let me indulge in negative and lazy habits. I knew this would be one of the challenges when I decided to make the move. It continues to be very difficult but the struggle is good for me.

What have been the best things about living in Hong Kong?

It’s not about Hong Kong specifically but more about a fresh start in a new place. It felt pretty awesome to purge most of my belongings. I realized that the belongings owned me in some way.

My employer is great. The company is very successful and they do high quality work. I’m proud to say I work with them.

A childhood friend of mine said he grew up after he left NYC. I think there’s something about having my family (brother/sister) around that let me let things happen to me. This is especially true because I’m the youngest sibling by at least 9 years. I’m 42 this year so it’s kind of embarrassing that I’m still growing up. I have more control over my life now… a little more than my lazy self wants. Nothing is stopping me from succeeding except me.

I also enjoy just being here. Sometimes even when walking to work, I feel like I’m on vacation because Hong Kong is still new to me. I think about how cool it is to be here and how lucky I am for the people that helped make this happen.

Where/what are your favorite places/things to do in Hong Kong?

It’s fun and exciting to explore the restaurants in my Soho neighborhood but I’m uncomfortable eating on my own at the busy places. It’s a treat when someone takes me somewhere very local: flimsy stools, toilet paper on the table, cheap food. I get excited about discovering side lanes between buildings, pedestrian bridges, and tunnel connections. I’m also pretty grateful for some of the people who look after me here so spending time with them gives me the warm fuzzies.

Have your views about being an American changed since you came here?

No. In many ways, I identify myself as an American, but really I’ve got one foot on each side of the door (not 100% American and not 100% Chinese). I’ve always been Chinese to “Americans” and now that I’m in Hong Kong, the people around me see me as an American. I don’t think I’ll shake that until I learn to speak Cantonese perfectly… but those tones!

Have your views about being Chinese changed since you came here?

No. But I’m still struggling to fit in while maintaining my me-ness.

Has being an ABC in Hong Kong shaped/changed your overall views about heritage, home, and identity?

Whoa, deep questions. This is a pretty permanent move for me. I don’t have plans to go back to live in the US so Hong Kong is becoming more of a home every day. I don’t think anything has changed but I think I’m more aware of some things. For example, my family left China and Hong Kong for the US to pursue the dream for a better life. They did it with nothing in their pockets. Now I’ve returned to the place they left, for the same reason, but not struggling nearly as much as they did.

What advice would you give to an ABC who would consider moving to Hong Kong?

If you don’t speak Cantonese, learn it. Unless you have the means, be prepared for a smaller apartment. Practice doing currency conversion in your head. Temperature conversion too. I laughed at people wearing puffy jackets in 50 degree winter weather. I don’t laugh anymore because it is cold when both your office and apartment don’t have heat. Get an Octopus card. Forget fluffy cotton towels because nothing dries here. The Ikea in Shatin is big; Causeway Bay, not so much.

You can find Kin on LinkedIn.