Blessing blanket

There are a million reasons to be grateful for our life in Hong Kong. On this Monday in September, as a typhoon leaves the vicinity and another gathers force en route, I think of a few on the bus home.

First, I am grateful for my route home from the bouldering gym, which is to walk out of the building and get on the first bus that arrives at the stop directly in front of the door. About 12 busses stop at this stop or the one just 10 yards down the road. I have yet to get on one that didn’t go near my apartment, one kilometer away. It’s a 15 minute trip by bus, 24 minutes if I walk the whole way. I imagined I understood what living in a dense urban area felt like before Hong Kong. I have lived in many, from Tokyo to Shanghai, from brief stints in Boston and New York, to years in SF’s Mission district. Until our recent move to Causeway Bay though I never truly understood how convenient things could get. From the 24 hour grocery store 200 meters away to the park across the street, it’ll be hard to leave this life, whenever we do.

Second, I’m grateful for the joy on the face of our three year-old getting off the ferry after a half day at school on one of the outlying islands. That her class is outdoors two days a week, on an island some 10 km away, via a ferry she swipes onto with her own transit card, is a point of distinction in this city. A dense urban area with easily accessible outdoor space feels like science fiction, like a future people would dream of rather than a place we moved to. Neither is the fact that her school is willing to take three year-olds out to the dirt and let them explore barefoot to be taken for granted in this safety-conscious city.

Third, I am grateful for the harbor walk, the kind of pedestrian infrastructure needed everywhere and only rarely prioritized. Much of it’s length has been built or expanded in our seven years in Hong Kong, from Kennedy Town to up past North Point. Every time I walk the harbor, be it with friends randomly on a Thursday morning or coming home from Boiler Room near Wan Chai late one evening, I am glad to live in a place that’s still building, that’s still trying to make things better for pedestrians. Despite the heat, despite the humidity, despite the occasional bad air day, the harbor is a treasure and the views a reminder of what humans can build, when they so choose. Each and every time I’m stunned that we did.

Lastly, as one might expect, I’m grateful for the odd language of the three year-old, which has given me a variety of creations, most recently this post’s title.