Some posts on this site contain affiliate links, meaning if you book or buy something through one of these links, I may earn a small commission (at no extra cost to you!). You can read my full disclosure policy here.
Going to Hong Kong was a thought-provoking and fascinating experience. It was almost like I was returning home, except I had never called Hong Kong home. Other than a trip when I was 5 and a quick stop over on the way to Cambodia and Thailand, I have no memories of Hong Kong.
The city is home in the sense that my roots lie in Hong Kong. My parents were born there. They grew up there. However, both of them immigrated to Canada in their teens so their identities are very much that of a Canadian. The Hong Kong of today is vastly different from the Hong Kong of their memories I’m sure.
My mom’s school has shut down. The neighborhood where my father grew up is completely different and has been rebuilt. The hospital where my parents were born is long gone (how romantic comedy-like is it that the two of them were born in the same hospital exactly 2 weeks apart and then they met in a completely different country thousands of kilometers away?! Movies dream of this kind of stuff). The city changes at an incredible rate.
Hong Kong felt familiar and yet so completely different. It was like I fit in, but at the same time, I didn’t. I was the awkward puzzle piece that was made a millimetre too big and can’t snap back into the puzzle properly. I was comfortable there, but also felt like an outsider, wandering around on the fringe. In a crowd, I completely blended in, but the moment I opened my mouth, people could tell.
I can totally see myself here.
Certainly I spoke the language well enough to get what I wanted and needed. While I’ve been told by many that I don’t have much of an accent when speaking Cantonese, people know immediately that I’m not from there.
From my strange (ahem unnatural) use of words when speaking.
From the way I dress.
Even from the way I walk and carry myself.
They know I’m not a local even if I physically look and sound the part despite how hard I try.
I had set a goal for myself to be able to read a menu before taking off for Hong Kong. Needless to say I had gotten totally distracted in my preparation and didn’t. I had learned the basics at Chinese school so at least I knew what kind of protein I was ordering (no awkward surprises so that’s good), but I couldn’t read all the fancy names. I wonder if I would have had a different experience if I could read the menu and signs all around me.
At least this menu was bilingual, but I wonder what is written on the yellow one! A secret menu perhaps?
While I was there, I never quite experienced any culture shock. Everything was familiar to me. Mannerisms. What to expect in restaurants. How to act. What other people would do. It was strange this non culture shock experience. I had half expected to not feel as comfortable as I did.
Growing up in Vancouver, I was surrounded by plenty of different Asian cultures and my family ensured that I followed many southern Chinese traditions. But, ultimately I was in Canada after all and my parents wanted me to get the best of both worlds. I followed Canadian and western traditions. I think like a Canadian. And yet, I never knew how much of that Cantonese culture was instilled in me until I was in Hong Kong. Also, at the same time, because I do think like a Canadian, I could never fully fit in. There are just little nuances that make a big difference.
By the time I left the city, my Cantonese had gotten way better. Immersion is definitely the way to go when trying to practice and master a language. I could see myself living in the city. Not for long, but enough to learn the language properly and to understand the culture more.
Sure maybe, the city is a bit chaotic, but I like that.
I think it is only natural for people to want to know where they come from. One day I’d love to go back for a longer period of time and really discover Hong Kong, but until then, the city has left an impression on me and my journey of discovering who I am.
Have you ever gone to a place where you feel like you belong, but not quite? Have you gone looking for your roots?
If you’re new to Pack Me To, welcome!
Stay on top of my travel and food adventures by liking me on Facebook and following me on Twitter & Instagram.
I’m really loving all these personal posts you’ve been writing lately. It is such a strange feeling to go where you have roots – even if it’s ancestral and not direct. Whenever I visit New England, I feel the same way; I have memories of visiting my grandparents there often, and I share common sport team loyalties. But as much as I’ll always be tied to it in some degree, I’ll never truly fit in there. I’m wondering if I’ll have that same sort of feeling when I visit Sweden, since I have no ties to it beyond my ancestry. When in Germany I can already blend in with the ethnic population, but as soon as I open my mouth, it’s obvious I’m not from there! 🙂 My husband is fluent, but apparently he walks like an American, so he’s a slightly too big puzzle piece, too. Anyway, great post – very thought-provoking!
Thanks so much Katrina! I’m trying really hard to put more of me in the site 🙂 These situations are so interesting especially as the world gets smaller through travel and globalization. It’s fascinating to think about what makes a place home and how we identify ourselves. Maybe ancestry doesn’t stay as relevant in the future. Who knows!
Great post Adelina, very inspiring! I actually have the opposite problem, I know where my roots are, but do not completely fit there anymore.
All my family is from Barcelona, were I was born and lived until I was 20. But now, after 10 years abroad, I do not completely fit, nor I do anywhere else. Like I don’t have a home…or I have many 🙂
Thanks for sharing your experience 🙂
I think these kind of realities are becoming more and more prevalent as our world becomes smaller and people decide to move away from home. I like the idea of many homes. When I was living abroad, that was home, but Vancouver was always home home if that makes sense. Very weird concept, but it works 🙂
I think it’s so important to get to know your roots, even if you don’t feel like you fit in immediately. It’s so cool that you got to discover where your parents come from with a fresh perspective! Your time spent in Hong Kong sounds like an incredible growing experience, and it sounds to me like this chapter that definitely isn’t closed yet 🙂
Thanks Courtney! I hope one day I’ll be able to spend more time in Hong Kong. I think I’d love to go with my parents one day. They haven’t been back in over 20 years!
I love this post! I know what you mean. I kind of feel the same way whenever I go back to Beijing (I was born there and lived there for 6 years, but I was still young enough that I don’t have a lot of concrete memories of it). I look like I fit in, but I don’t dress like them and I have the most horrible chinese/american accent when trying to speak Mandarin. I don’t really know what to consider myself. Chinese yes, but my ideologies are now so American too.
Yea exactly! It’s so hard to define who you are based on these attributes. Confusing. I think I’m definitely way more Canadian than Chinese. There are just somethings I can’t understand, but at the same time I want to preserve the Chinese in me too, especially if I decide to have kids way later in the future.
Hi Adelina, We lived in Hong Kong in the early eighties for four years when we were first married. David and I have been back many times. Our now 26 year old son was born there and we took him back a few times when he was young but one day he is going to want to go there himself and explore his roots – we aren’t Chinese so we can’t help him much with the language or culture but I know he’ll love it.
Oh wow, I’d love to know how he feels about his roots. Being a 3rd culture kid must be fascinating.
So interesting to hear of your experience. You’re really in between worlds but gave us a peek into the Hong Kong culture I’ve never seen before.
Thanks Elaine. I think I have more of the western influence in me than Chinese, but it’s interesting to think about how both of them work together to make me who I am.
I will definitely say that a month in Hong Kong was not enough; it was barely enough to really get started. But similar to your experience, I felt that an extended say to immerse myself in language and culture would’ve been a welcome one.
Yea for sure. I wonder what we would discover there after a long(er) period of time in the city.
I really enjoyed reading this! I have a few expat friends in Taiwan whose parents are Taiwanese but likewise immigrated to America. So my friends are Texan-Taiwanese puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit either. Sometimes I am jealous of their bi-cultural upbringing and how they can go between two societies and cultures so much more seamlessly than I can. Although, they always tell me to be grateful I didn’t have to go to Chinese school on Sundays 🙂
Thanks Jacqueline! Yea, Chinese school was not fun as a kid. Who wants more school?! It is pretty cool to see the world behind two cultural lenses though.
Had that feeling in Taipei, even though I have no roots there. I think it was cause everyone looked like me.
Haha, that could definitely be a contributing factor!
Hi! I could totally relate with you in some ways, except from the fact that I grew up in the Philippines (which is only 2 hours away by plane from Hong Kong). Upon landing there, I knew it was home but I also felt like I never truly fit in. People would talk to me in Cantonese but when they hear me speak they immediately could tell that I’m overseas Chinese.
Nevertheless, I am very fascinated with Hong Kong, and would like to live there someday. LOL. I also want to know more about my late mother’s background because she was very secretive about her childhood and was very hesitant about sharing to me her Hong Kong Chinese identity (except for the food, yum!).
Great blog post!