It started with a taxi. My first night in Hong Kong was exhausting and miserable to say the least, with no one to pick me up from the airport but a taxi driver who didn’t speak English. Somehow I managed to communicate to him and was able to navigate my way to my destination. But I was tired, out of breath, loopy and confused. All I remember was crossing this beautiful bridge, looking out my window thinking “Wow, I really am on the other side of the world” and “I really hope he knows where he is going.”
It ended with a taxi. Tired, out of breath, loopy and confused, I leave the school building with friends after midnight to take a taxi home after 3 long days of hard work. I felt exhausted and miserable again, but I came across the beautiful bridge that captured my attention before. The driver still didn’t speak English, but at least I knew where I was going this time. This foreign land was not foreign anymore. It was familiar, it became home.
It started with a taxi, it ended with a taxi.
This was day 七三.