Pause. Reset. Refocus.

The class schedule this year has been erratic, last minute changes to assignment deadlines and presentations have made planning for trips extremely challenging. The stipulation is that during the course, students should try to be in Hong Kong for the entirety of the semester. My strategy for this is to book all trips ahead of schedule and ensure that I have travel insurance and a decent cancelation option as not to absorb the costs of a forfeited fare. I have already started to get used to the internal struggle, with the usual questions being tabled: “should I really be traveling around and compromising grades?” which is always countered with “should school really be dictating who I hang out with and how I spend my time as I get older?”

I desperately needed this trip - Psychologically I yearned for some therapy or release valve for all that anxiety. Deep down, I knew that it wasn’t as simple as going on a trip. In any case I managed to get to Bali. The reason for the trip was because my dad’s best friend’s daughter’s was getting married. From a trip perspective, it was therapeutic in the sense that we were in a resort, with not a lot to do. I managed to have some quality family time and even catch up on some sleep. We had a nice group dinner by the beach on the first evening with the wedding on the Sunday.

One of the more enjoyable parts of the trip was witnessing the interaction of my parents with their university friends. It was as expected, a barrage of the same line of questioning “How’s Hong Kong?”, “When are you getting married?” and of course a dad joke. So many dad jokes. As I watch them interact, I see who the instigators of the group are, and try to match up individuals with characters in my circle of friends. For example, there’s the uncle whose smuggled a bottle of whisky to dinner, there’s the other uncle who is always encouraging people to drink, there’s the quiet uncle and then there’s the uncle that doesn’t drink. One of the uncle harasses a twenty something “Hey, f**k you, drink that now!” while I overhear my dad consoling another young adult “You should stick your finder down your throat if you want to throw up”. I guess group dynamics remain constant even through the generations.

With the aunties, I overhear them talking about how the men have gotten “grumpier” and “more forgetful” over the years. There’s idle chit chat about which degenerative disease such-and-such has, or what stage cancer was recently found. All of my parent’s friend’s children are married. My mother is grilled as to why her two children still remain unmarried, she brushes off the questioning with a “my kids have their own lives, they can do what they want”. The conversations bring a smile to my face but also exposes a certain emptiness that I was not expecting. I often forget that as I get older, so does everybody else around me. Parents included. This alone was the grounding experience that I had wanted, but not expected in this manner. I feel already closer to home.

"My kids have their own lives, they can do what they want" - Mom