Chapter 9: The Honeymoon (Hong Kong)
The flight was uneventful the rest of the way to Hong Kong. I noticed that Melinda was a little annoyed every time one of the cabin crew addressed her in Chinese.
âI speak Vietnamese, not Chinese and they insist on talking to me in Chinese. That Japanese lady two rows ahead gets the same treatment. She has to talk to them in English because their Chinese is as big a mystery to her as it is to you and me. Havenât the Chinese realized that not every yellow person on earth speaks Chinese?â
âBut you said your mother was Chinese. Didnât she ever teach you Chinese?â
âMy mother was more interested in teaching me how to cook and be a good wife than how to speak Chinese. The only Chinese she taught me was mah-jongg. In any case, my motherâs family came from the Toi Shan and they spoke a dialect that isnât too useful in the Chinese world. These people from the airline crew speak Cantonese and Mandarin. Even if I had been a good girl and learned my motherâs familyâs language, I still wouldnât be able to understand these people. Besides, I say that Vietnamese is a more sophisticated tongue than Chinese. Vietnamese has six tones and Chinese has only three. So, I am smarter because I speak Vietnamese.â
âI thought you said that, on this part of the trip, it would be my turn to be on the receiving end of discrimination for being white. What I see is you complaining about being abused for speaking Vietnamese.â
Melinda rolled her almond-shaped eyes in her âyouâll never understandâ manner and went back to her book. I read for a while and then let my mind wander. My seats was typically economy cramped and I felt stiff, in my legs that is, after a few hours. There was so little privacy that I was happy that I could cuddle with my oriental bride and we could share what little space we had. I assumed that it was pure fiction when an erotic story described fornication in an airplane. I think there was a sex scene on an airplane in âEmmanuelleâ but that was in the toilet, not here in the economy zoo. Furthermore, âEmmanuelleâ was never filmed on this airplane. The toilet on this aircraft was so cramped that I banged my head on the ceiling when I stood up after a crap. No chance of any bouncy-bouncy in this can.
As we approached Hong Kong, I asked Melinda about the arrangements she had made for our stay in Hong Kong.
âYou said that you contacted the sister of a doctor at your hospital. Tell me about her and what can I expect?â
âHer name is Wu Sui, try and say her name right. Oh forget it, Paul. Youâll never get it right. Just use her English name, Susan Wu. Susan and her brother studied in Canada; Susan studied psychiatry and her brother studied medicine. When they graduated, Susanâs brother stayed in Canada but Susan went back to Hong Kong because there is was great shortage of psychiatrists. Donât smirk. Yes, Orientals go crazy just like white people. Sheâs single and her brother says Susanâs the nice one in the familyâ
Our conversation was interrupted by the announcement that we should do up our seatbelts and stow our cabin luggage because we were about to land at Kai Tak airport. We again landed safely due to my white knuckles guiding the pilot from my seat. Immigration and Customs was a breeze thanks to the Canadian passports. I was afraid that we might get detained because the clerk asked Melinda a question in Cantonese and Melinda growled something back in peasant-grade Vietnamese. No problem; the passport clerk grinned and switched to English. In the hall, we spotted Susan holding a sign with our names in English.
While Melinda was telling Susan about her brother and how he was the last time she saw him, I looked over our host. Susan was like most Hong Kong Chinese, a little over 5 feet tall, shorter than Melinda. She wore glasses, obviously a case of the common oriental myopia. Behind her glasses was a pleasant, kind face. Susan was not a raving beauty but there was a sensuality about her face. I decided on the spot that I would let this shrink read my head anytime.
We went to Susanâs apartment by taxi. Susan explained that most middle class in Hong Kong used public transportation because it was so difficult to park a car. In any case, the government discouraged cars by making the driverâs test so difficult that the average person could never pass. Susan had gotten around the test by getting a driverâs license in Canada, which was recognized in Hong Kong.
Susanâs apartment was well furnished but cramped. By arranging the oriental art hangings and the light, it gave the impression that the apartment was larger that it was physically. There seemed to be a peacefulness in the apartment that contrasted with the bustle of the large city outside and the tension I had felt as a result of the imminent Chinese takeover. Susan had created a refuge for herself from the outside world. I started to believe in Feng Shui. Susan gave a sly smile as she said that we would have her double bed and she would sleep on the futon. I wondered why a single woman needed a double bed but I decided not to take that line of thought. We slept exhausted after the long trip.
The next two days were spent fulfilling my business obligations so I didnât get to see much of Melinda and her new found friend, Susan. A factory is a factory even if itâs located in one of the most dynamic cities in the world. When the obligatory tours were finished, I was looking forward to finally touring Hong Kong with Melinda. I was slightly disappointed when Melinda told me:
âSusan and I want some more girl time together. I hate to let you out on the town alone when we are still newly weds but Susan seems to want to tell me something. Promise me youâll be good and you wonât make any scenes while youâre alone? Weâll get out together tomorrow, I promise.â
I agreed to behave and went to downtown Kowloon where the clubs are located. I decided that, if I had the night off, I would do something that I couldnât do if Melinda tagged along. Besides, Nancy had raised a question in my mind, namely what was average for the oriental bush? The two oriental beavers that I was familiar with both had a small bush with straight hair, not curly like my white girlfriends. In the case of Mrs. Nguyen, perhaps she had lost bush hair from overuse of that particular part. I decided that the best way to see a variety of Chinese bush without breaking my promise to Melinda to stay out of trouble was to visit a strip club.