New York. That’s what I thought when I got off the bus. Chinatown, New York. I needed a map so I stopped at a newsstand…English or Mandarin? Neither. The craggy old vendor disgustedly waved me off with an, “Arggh! Pūtōnghuà!” The second vendor I tried wouldn’t even acknowledge me. Asshole. Just like New York. This was a letdown. For at least three years I’d had this trip in my head and now that I was finally here…this. As a Bostonian, it’s probably programmed into my DNA to be suspicious of New York. And whenever I’m visiting an old Boston friend who lives there now, I’m always a little relieved to be leaving and a little sorry to be leaving him behind. And so I find that if a place reminds me of New York, I usually don’t like it. Shanghai does and I find that I’m always glad to be leaving there, as well. And so, having checked in to my hotel and having met up with my friend – a transplanted Nanjingese – I alluded to this as we walked past an off-track betting parlor…with the hopeful postscript that maybe my instincts were off this time. But still, everything about the place screamed Chinatown.

I didn’t stay in Hong Kong all that long. Just a long weekend. And I’ve been back in Nanjing for a little while now. And in my time back, I’ve picked up a Hong Kong guidebook and a Cantonese phrasebook. You might think that this is funny: to buy a guidebook and local phrasebook after having just gotten back from a particular trip, but I don’t – at least not in this case. You read these books to familiarize yourself with a locale and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do now. Just like I was trying to do then. Usually, familiarization with a place is physical: streets, subway stops, places of interest, these sorts of things. In Hong Kong this was true as well. And it was easy enough, courtesy, most likely, of the colonial masters. And I saw some of what I should see and did some of what I should do and enjoyed it. But the intangibles turned out to be a little more complicated. Where am I? In my hotel room the morning of my departure, I found that I had described the city in three completely different ways in three different postcards. None of these descriptions were wrong. It made me stop what I was doing. What is this place? My instincts had been off – I knew this almost immediately after pigeonholing it. And I now began to think that there might be no pigeonhole, just some sort of crack to be slipped through. Of the places I’ve been, it’s the most enigmatic – an almost forgotten afterthought of a question that is content to stay out of the way until something brings it forward again to be puzzled over and then put down again for future consideration. I enjoyed Hong Kong, but I’m not sure if this is the right word to describe my ongoing experience with it. I mean really, does a riddle bring you joy? How about a riddle that you know is there but haven’t even been able to identify yet?

I have heard the Mainland described along these lines, and I believe that it’s justified. However, I don’t think that I’ve gotten too wound up in this – I knew what it was before I even got here and acknowledge that it would take quite a few lifetimes to start to figure it all out. China is enormous, old, and secretive – whatever you get from it is what it gives you. Hong Kong is small and young. And right there to be seen. And then it’s not.

Maybe my impression is wrong, I’m not basing it on much. But then again, first impressions aren’t usually based on much. If I do make it back there again, I hope that it’s just as elusive as it was this time. Taking that away might make all the difference.

Linguistic Note: Pūtōnghuà refers to Mandarin. In Hong Kong, Cantonese – an almost completely different form of Chinese from Mandarin – is the language widely spoken.

Essay Note: I wrote this almost a year ago, back in May of 2009, a short time after I’d paid a long considered visit to Hong Kong. My impressions, though not quite as fresh now, haven’t changed. I still find myself frequently looking through that guidebook.