First World Country, Third World Subway

There are so many exciting things about being back in New York City - the endless choices of fresh food at Trader Joe's, seeing normal girls on the street who look like they've stepped out of Vogue, window shopping in NoLiTa, Central Park on a gorgeous sunny day.  I know I sound like a golden retriever, but there are many reasons to love New York.

And then there's the subway.

N/R line at 34th Street

It gives India's slums a run for their money

After using Hong Kong's pristine and timely MTR - where I could eat off and sleep on the ground, I feel like I'm in a slasher movie when I'm in the subway here.  In three short months I've already experienced the following:

• a group of teenagers eating after-school snacks (chips, granola bars, candy) on the train and brazenly throwing the empty wrappers on the floor of the subway car
• the smell of a homeless man on the train which has literally emptied the car (suddenly I remember the #1 rule of riding the NYC subway - an empty car is a bad - not a good, thing)
• getting followed up and down the platform by a strange man who is creepily smiling at me
• being absolutely terrified when I get off at my stop and see a teenager in a black ski mask pass me to get onto the train
• sitting in a dark tunnel between stations...for 5 minutes...with no announcements...knowing I'll now be late

This is all in addition to people begging you for money, no cell phone service and rats scurrying around on the tracks.  When summer rolls around, you can add sweltering heat and a foul smell to the mix.

The upside?  When the 3-piece mariachi band or 3-man barbershop quartet (triplet?) visit your car and their music is so peaceful you almost forget you're in Return of the Living Dead.

Math in Reverse

Let me start by confessing that math has never been my strong suit.  Apparently reacclimating to the US dollar is another thing I'm not so good at.

As an expat living in a foreign land, you learn to take the price of something and convert it into your home currency.  $1 USD = ~$8 HKD, so my brain got to the point where it would automatically divide everything by 8 to see what the actual value was.  Otherwise I'd be looking at an $8 bottle of Diet Coke or an $88 t-shirt from H&M and thinking "Jesus, that's expensive."  Now, if I was living in Sydney, that *would* be the actual value!

Anyway, the problem I'm facing now is that my brain is still doing it...and I'm back in America where things are listed in USD.  So, I got a check recently for $6,000 and immediately devalued it to around $1,500.  I was in J Crew looking at a $120 sweater thinking, "$12?! It must be on sale."  

Not sure when my brain will finally accept that it's back in the land of the US Dollar.

Step one will be to stop referring to things in US dollars.  I was telling a story to some friends over the weekend and I said something along the lines of "...and it cost 40 US dollars."  My friend Al says, "You know you don't have to specify the currency; we all assume you mean US dollar."

Who knew that one thing I'd not be able to let go of was the freakin Hong Kong Dollar?!

Parenting

This'll be a quick one that, had I more time, could end up being a 5-page post.  Here's the difference between parenting styles in Discovery Bay and New York City:

Today a kid on a stationary (e.g., non-moving) scooter semi-blocked my exit at the grocery store.  His mother immediately saw this and said, "Carlton, I told you not to ride that thing in here."

Months ago, I was nearly knocked over by a kid on a scooter zooming by me in the grocery store in DB.  I rolled my eyes and said, "watch out" to which his mother gave me a dirty look and most definitely said nothing to her son.

I'm not even going to provide commentary on this; I think it speaks for itself.

PS - If Blondie from the Forum is reading this, I hope your head is exploding!  :)

Have I mentioned?

...that we will be leaving beautiful 70-degree weather in Hong Kong for brutal NYC winter weather??  Since there was a nor'easter in October, I'm preparing myself for the worst.  Am having faint memories of being too cold to shower in the morning, stepping into invisible ankle-deep black slush on the street corners and being pale as f*ck.

Have I also mentioned that 60 degrees feels cold to me?

Yeah, I'm screwed.

Start Spreadin' the News...

I'm leavin' today.
I want to be a part of it...
New York, New York

 Well friends - I knew this day would come eventually...  As an expat it's kind of inevitable.

We are moving back to New York.

Yep, packing up our dehumidifiers, rice maker, chopsticks and milk teas and heading back to the land of bagels, lox and black people.  It's surreal because the whole thing came completely out of the blue.

I'm filled with excitement, sadness, hope and nostalgia.  The minute we got the news, my love of Hong Kong grew exponentially.  Which is funny because I didn't even know it existed in the first place.  Now I have a bucket list as long as Dwight Howard's arm for things to do/see/experience/visit before I leave Asia.  And only 6 weeks to do them in because we will be back in New York before Christmas!

Before you fret about this blog disappearing (because obviously this is an integral part of your daily existence!), keep in mind that I still have six more weeks of Chinglish and swinging ahead of me.  Er, writing about them, that is.  Or maybe I should try some swinging before I leave - after all, this could be my last chance to end up as a salacious topic on The Forum!

I haven't lived in New York for three years, which means I'll technically be an expat when I return.  Even now when I go back stores are gone, others have cropped up (there is a Trader Joe's on the UWS!) and I can't remember which stops the 4/5/6 trains make.  When I left New York in 2008, Obama had just taken office, bin Laden was still alive and Kim Kardashian was dating Reggie Bush.  Feels like a lifetime ago.  ;)

I've been told by expat friends that the transition back home is not a seamless one, so be prepared for lots of moaning about how I miss my life in Hong Kong.  Also be prepared (if you're an American) for me to say things like "air con" instead of "AC" and "quite" instead of "really."  Years ago I had a friend who lived in Australia for a year and then moved back to NYC.  She came back saying "mate" and a little piece of me died every time it came out of her mouth.  Now, I'll be the one people are rolling their eyes at and thinking "well, isn't she high and mighty with her international vocabulary".

In summary (this post deserves some formality!), while I am moving back to New York, I will continue blogging about life as an expat.  I'll just be doing it from a noodle shop in Chinatown.

China Owns America...And is Trying to Sell it Off

Husband was reading the paper (South China Morning Post) today and spotted this advertisement on the front page:

This is REAL. Our newspaper is inviting Hong Kongers to purchase foreclosed New York houses.  To make matters worse, they are selling them in bulk - "you choose any five" and presenting it like a Las Vegas buffet - "your choice, any combination".

If it wasn't painfully obvious that the States are in dire straits, it is now.  Every American who reads this should send it to their Congressman, thank them for doing such a bang-up job on the most important economic decision of our time and ask them to step down and never run for office again.

On the flip side, if any of you are looking to buy a house, let us know and we'll set up a meeting with these folks.  ;)

I miss black people

Well, black people and Hispanics, actually.  Living in NYC, you're surrounded by so many different cultures -- the majority of which are black or hispanic.  Now I'm surrounded almost entirely by Asian people (save for the white expats) and it's just so boring.  I have been known to count the number of black people I see in a week here and seldom get to my second hand...

I guess I really just miss NYC.  And when I have those NYC homesick pangs, there's only one place to go -- Posto Pubblico, my favorite local NYC Italian restaurant here that is run by 2 guys from Brooklyn.  Arancini, eggplant rollatini, a Grandma slice -- you name it, they serve it.  To kick it up a notch they play hip-hop from the early 90s -- Q-Tip, Mos Def, Beastie Boys, etc.

The best part though -- the thing that really pulls at my heart strings, is the sign that hangs over the door:

Yep --the real deal (stolen by the owners from a subway stop in Queens).