A week without belongings

A week before my departure from Hong Kong was a time when I had shipped almost all my belongings to Melbourne, my next destination in life. For me, it was a week without belongings, and it was also a week in which I was constantly aware what I really needed, and what myself was all about.

Over the years in Hong Kong, I have accumulated so many things. They have become so much a part of my life, and they were like my reliable ‘companions’ with which I spent most of my time at home, without much of my own awareness. I would watch my TV, read books or write my blogs on my desk, make my own orange or grapefruit juices with my juicer, grab food from my fridge, wash clothes with my washing machine, sleep on my big and comfy bed with thick mattresses, and struggle with some tunes and melodies on my piano, feed my fish, and water my pot plants …

Well, without these belongings, I was a bit scared at first, and felt at a loss what to do. I then looked deeper inside myself, for what living a life meant to me, and who I really was. What was physically left, during the last week of my stay in Hong Kong, included an almost empty flat, a water bottle, a few carry-on luggage items, a to-be-disassembled bed with a simple makeshift mattress, a Mac (with which I was connected virtually with the rest of the world), and mygoodself.

What were also left with me were my fond memories of this adorable flat, this lovely city, and my ‘desperateness’ to acquire new local experiences in the last week of my stay in Hong Kong. I recall that when I first arrived, I had almost nothing, but myself. I recall how excited I was when I purchased my first foldable table and how I reassembled it together with my daughter. I recall how I felt when I purchased my first sofa bed, because a double bed was not sufficient when my wife and daughter joined me from overseas in Hong Kong. I recall my first dining out with my family and how appreciative we were to have authentic Chinese food in a local Hong Kong restaurant. I recall how thrilled and exhausted I was to purchase my first home with a bank loan of an astronomical figure. I also recall how sad it was when I had to sell it although I could make a profit of equally an astronomical figure.



My desperateness to acquire new local experiences also increased with the countdown of my days prior to my departure from Hong Kong. I was desperate to go on hiking trips, despite the hot weather, and the possible sightings of snakes along the hiking trails; I was desperate to take Day and Night Rickshaw Bus Tours (H1 and H2) from the Central, primarily for tourists, to have my last-minute glimpses of the major Hong Kong landmarks around the area. I was desperate to dine out with friends and colleagues to taste the flavours of Hong Kong, and to catch up with people. When I was all by myself, alone, in the darkness of my empty flat, in the evening or at night, I was desperate to visit Facebook to add friends and to confirm the ‘friend’ requests of others. In both real and virtual worlds, I was hoping that time would stop, so that I could savor this city, its people, its hustles and bustles, and its many different aspects, rural, suburban, and cosmopolitan, dreams, fantasies and realities.


A week without belongings is a week I could see who I was, and what I was looking for. It was good to have a week in my life where I could return to my ego, my naked self, or my true self, without ‘belongings’. In one of the emails I wrote to one of my friends in the U.S. about the days before my departure from Hong Kong, I said, “... life was so much richer in the last week in Hong Kong, without worrying about what I possess or what belongs to me. I was like being completely revamped, all upside down, and uprooted, but I could still survive ... amazing.” 


A week without belongings is a week I could hardly forget. Farewell, Hong Kong!