Airport Series III: Hong Kong (Again)

As my grandma called it, an 'electric road'.

At least once a week, during a meal, my father mentions my aunt and uncle in Vietnam and how they would like it here or how they wouldn't or how they would react to the kind of food that we were eating at the time. I find myself thinking about our trip a lot too, but I've not been able to talk about it as much and now that so much time has passed, I'm finding it harder still. I'm not quite finished organizing our album of (tangible) photos; thank goodness for digital and computers making the sorting of my (not so tangible) photos that much easier.

When I look at my pictures of the ariports, I remember the giant sense of relief that washed over me when I stepped off the plane and onto Canadian/Ontario/Toronto soil. I felt so good to be home, and not only that, but so safe to be back on native land. It was a kind of quiet confidence, an unspoken comfort and security that being someplace familiar gives me.

I was no longer that strange pale person that looked like she could be Thai or Vietnamese, but probably not since she's so pale. And so not thin. While some people found me attractive overseas, a lot of them looked at me like I was a birth defect. I'm glad I don't get that too often here. I fit somehow, I belong in the mishmash of people. I'm not an intruder.

And I suppose I feel the same way about blogs. I read certain ones where I feel comfortable knowing the person and the various details of their life. I know a bit about them, they know a bit about me; an online acquaintance. And now a question that I've wanted to ask for a while now:

Why do you read my blog?

7:25 pm