So It Begins.

Angel, eager to try out his Mandarin, asked a security guard at the apartment building where we stayed overnight in Hong Kong, "Can guan zai na li?" ("Where is a restaurant?")

She looked at him in utter confusion. English brought the same result. He began miming eating while I realized I should have warned him that it's more likely he'll find Cantonese speakers here than Mandarin speakers. And I don't know a single word in the Cantonese dialect.

It was 6:22 a.m., and the breakfast restaurant we eventually found wasn't open yet, but I was starving, due to my boycott of any and all airplane foods during our long trip (why can't airplanes just serve rice krispie treats or apples or something guaranteed to not smell nauseating? I definitely have suggestions for improving the fare, although I can't complain about the frequency of meals served by Philippines Airlines, they even served a meal on our two-hour flight between Manila and Hong Kong!)

Because of my intense hunger, we finally found a convenience store where I bought Doritos and Gatorade--an auspicious first meal in Asia, don't you think?

 Gatorade, bright and early this Hong Kong morning.



Already Angel and I are learning bits and pieces of Chinese culture. Angel points out the characters that he can recognize on various signs and I'm somewhat dismayed by how many characters I still don't recognize. Angel noticed that the apartment building where we stayed overnight didn't have a 13th, 14th, or 44th floor--I assume that is in an effort to avoid the most unpopular numbers. I'm sure you all know that 13 is an undesirable number for many, but the number 4 sounds very similar to the word death in Mandarin (I don't know about Cantonese, though?) and because of that it's generally considered unlucky.

Our breakfast receipt.

When the breakfast restaurant opened, we ordered a set breakfast by pointing to the picture that looked most appetizing (being able to read Chinese characters is not much use when you and the cashier pronounce them completely differently), which turned out to be a huge bowl of ramen noodles, topped with a fried egg and two sausages, plus a cup of hot milk tea. It was enough for us both to share, because, of course, it was time for my second breakfast. The grand total cost of this meal? The equivalent of $3 in American money. At this point I felt quite justified in talking Angel out of the $9 bowls of noodles we'd seen for sale in Hawaii a few days previously.

We were only in Hong Kong less than 24 hours before boarding our bus into ShenZhen. I'm sure we'll be back in the future. But for now, on to explore our new home. (Is it just me or is this the never-ending journey?)