Every morning I wake up and put on my to hai, the word for Chinses slippers. I eat my Chinese water pear and turn on the television for my daily dose of Asian news. Around 9:30 we have some Dim Sum, courtesy of whoever happens to be the quickest to steal the check from my grandmother. I sit quietly at the table, every now and then flaunting my limited Chinese, entertaining my grandmother’s friends. Pau pau I’ll say indicating I’m full. Yam cha I’ll shout, drink tea! Ba fan I’ll plead indicating my desire for some white rice. I think I’ve officially mastered about 5% of the language. Um, food words that is. I know how to say time to eat, I’m full, and how to order myself a nice hearty Cantonese meal.

Right now I am staying with two of my grandmother’s friends, Mr. and Mrs. Lau, who speak nothing but Cantonese. Thankfully their daughter Jenny, who speaks Englsh, is also staying with us for the weekend. They have a small 3 room, 1 bathroom flat in the New Territory in Hong Kong. It’s pretty big for an apartment, I’ve been told, as 7 of us have somehow managed to squeeze ourselves and our 9 suitcases into every crevice of their home. I just finished having some coffee and pa ton koh, rice paddies, for breakfast. I’m writing this as I sway to surprisingly pleasing “old people music” as Jenny calls it. It has a nice relaxing beat, since I don’t understand any of the words.

I took a cold shower this morning, ignorantly thinking it was “the Chinese way.” But I had forgotten to flip the switch on the electric heater…. I had to dry myself with a small Chinsese hand towel, which is the Chinese way, well their way at least. They are very practical. Why waste money on larger towels, when small hand towels can double as both a hand and body towel?

I’m on my way to get my hair permed, which seems to be a sweeping trend here. Hopefully I won’t come back with lion hair!