In the Orient (3 page)

By the time Archibald deplaned from the Cathay Pacific jumbo jet at Kai Tak International Airport on a warm and humid Friday evening, he was dead tired. He had been so excited at the prospect of his upcoming stay in Hong Kong that he’d slept only a few hours since leaving the Midwest Wednesday morning.

In order to reach Hong Kong, which was on the other side of the International Date Line in a time zone thirteen hours ahead of his hometown, he spent more than twenty-four hours on three separate airplanes and in airport transit areas. The long trip had a flight path that spanned parts of the Pacific Ocean and the East China Sea, and it required two intermediate stops. The first stop was in Los Angeles and the second was in Tokyo.

The highlight of the flight to Hong Kong was definitely the final few minutes that it took the Boeing 747 to make its final approach to Kai Tak’s famous Runway, 13/31. While conducting research on Hong Kong, Archibald had read about how the rugged mountains near the airport required a low altitude, hard-left banking approach to the runway that jutted into the surrounding Victoria Harbour. Even so, he didn’t expect the steepness of the turn, let alone the bird’s-eye view he had of people eating their dinner or watching television in the six-story apartment buildings that the plane’s huge fuselage flew by!

As promised, Dr. Chen and Robert Liu were outside passport control waiting for Archibald. Both men were Chinese, but that’s where any physical similarity ended.

Even though Dr. Chen had just turned fifty-two, his neatly combed hair was prematurely gray, just as his father’s had been at the same age.

At almost six feet tall, Dr. Chen was very fit, and the tailored blue suit, white shirt, and silver tie added to the distinguished look that set him apart from all the other people milling around the airport. He wore thin wire-rimmed glasses, and his engaging smile was accented by some of the whitest teeth Archibald had ever seen.

Robert Liu could not have been more different than his employer. The shiny hairless head that sat atop his rotund five-foot-five-inch, forty-year old frame was moist with perspiration. Dr. Chen’s driver wore a dark suit, but it clearly had been purchased off a bargain
basement rack with minimal, if any, alterations. His white shirt seemed one size too small for his bulging neck, and his black tie appeared as though it was slowly choking him, like a python crushing a defenseless piglet. He also wore glasses, but his were horn-rimmed with quarter-inch lenses.

However, what defined Robert Liu’s strange appearance wasn’t his bald head, his height, his weight, his glasses, or his clothes—no, not one of those unusual characteristics distinguished him in Archibald’s eyes. It was his teeth. When his full lips parted in a broad smile, two rows of highly polished gold teeth gleamed in the fluorescent light that illuminated the bustling baggage area!

While Dr. Chen waited with Archibald for his luggage to arrive, Robert Liu waddled off to fetch his pride and joy, a black Mercedes-Benz W123 four-door sedan.

As they waited, Dr. Chen explained that Robert’s father, Liu Dingxiang, had been his own father’s trusted driver and bodyguard for many years. He also said that in addition to driving duties, Robert served as his bodyguard as well, adding that out of the thousands of people he employed inside and outside Hong Kong, none was more loyal than Robert.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Chen and Archibald were sitting comfortably in the air-conditioned back seat of the Mercedes, sipping cold water as Robert navigated a very familiar route toward the Cross-Harbour Tunnel that ran under Victoria Harbour between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Dr. Chen explained that before the
tunnel was finished in 1972, the only way to reach his home on Hong Kong Island from Kowloon was by ferry.

Although Archibald had seen dozens of photographs of Hong Kong at night, they didn’t do justice to the breathtaking panorama spread out before his tired eyes. He couldn’t get over the dazzling maze of lights and skyscrapers that rose up on both the Hong Kong and Kowloon sides of Victoria Harbour.

In fact, Archibald thought that the whole atmosphere was uniquely different. From the moment he deplaned, he’d noticed that the air seemed heavier and more humid. More than that, Hong Kong was bustling and alive with strange sounds and foreign smells that were more exotic than anything he’d ever experienced.

“Dr. Chen, would you please tell me about Victoria Peak before we get there?” Archibald asked as the Mercedes entered the large Cross-Harbour Tunnel.

“Well, Archibald,” Dr. Chen answered in a clipped British accent, “Victoria Peak, or ‘The Peak’ as most locals call it, is really a mountain situated in the western half of Hong Kong Island. In fact, it’s the highest mountain on the island, but not in all of Hong Kong. That record is reserved for Tai Mo Shan, an extinct volcano in the center of the New Territories on the Kowloon side. Ah, but that’s a trifle more information than you need.

“So, let me get back to your original question. To begin with, the apex of The Peak is a smidgen more than five hundred meters above sea level. For you Americans, that translates to just about eighteen hundred feet. On top of The Peak sits a radio and communications facility that isn’t accessible to the public. Just below the communications facility is the most expensive residential real estate in all of Hong Kong. According to some, the property there is potentially some of the most valuable property in the whole world.

“In addition to providing truly spectacular views of Victoria Harbour, Central Hong Kong, and many of the surrounding islands, The Peak boasts a much more temperate climate compared to the rest of Hong Kong. You’re visiting us in summer, and by the time you leave in August, high temperatures will average around thirty-three degrees Celsius, or about ninety-two degrees Fahrenheit. So you see, my boy, living higher up in a cooler environment does have definite advantages.”

Archibald nodded and then asked, “Dr. Chen, when I was researching Hong Kong, I read that Victoria Peak is also one of Hong Kong’s major tourist attractions. Is that right?”

“Yes it is, but not in the exact area where we live,” answered Dr. Chen. “I must tell you that the Peak wasn’t always a place where tourists visited and well-to-do people lived. The area was largely inaccessible until The Peak Tram, which was rope-driven, opened in 1888. Incredibly, that same tram system is still running today.

“When the tram increased access to The Peak and made it a desirable place to live, not all people with means were able to make their home there. Back in the early 1900s, an official ordinance restricted the Chinese from buying property on The Peak. When the ordinance was lifted in 1930, my grandfather was the first Chinese person to purchase several estates there. We now reside on the site of one of those original houses today. When I finished building our current home a decade ago, I renamed it ‘Jade Place’ in honor of Mrs. Chen’s birthstone.”

During the remainder of the drive to Jade Place, Dr. Chen and Archibald continued to discuss The Peak’s history. As interesting as their discussion was, Archibald was thankful when Robert Liu drove the Mercedes through a remote-controlled wrought iron gate and down a steep driveway into an underground four-car garage. Although he was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep, he also was very excited to meet the other members of his host family.

Mrs. Chen, William, and May were all waiting to greet their American guest when Dr. Chen escorted him into the large formal living room.

After shaking hands, Mrs. Chen said, “I know how tired you must be, Archibald. If you are hungry, our cook, Kuang Jianguo, can prepare a light meal for you. If you are not, please join us for some tea while Ah-lam, our maid, prepares your room. I promise we won’t keep you long.”

Although Archibald’s eyes were beginning to burn from lack of sleep, he knew from his briefing materials that if his host family upon arrival offered him tea, he needed to accept. Hoping that he would be in bed soon, he fought back a yawn and replied, “A cup of tea would be just fine, thank you.”

Mrs. Chen was true to her word, and fifteen minutes later Archibald was shown to his second-floor bedroom by Ah-lam. When she opened the bedroom door and asked if there was anything else he required, he was surprised to find that his suitcase had been unpacked. Best of all, however, his bed had already been turned down.

Ten minutes after saying, “No, thank you, Ah-lam, I’m all set,” the young American was fast asleep.

Archibald had indeed been exhausted from his long journey, and he slept until almost ten o’clock the next morning. After a quick shower and shave, he put on a white polo shirt, khaki shorts, and a new pair of low-cut Converse tennis shoes. While tying his laces, he realized just how hungry he was, and as he left the bedroom in search of his host family, he wondered what type of breakfast he’d be served.

“Good morning, Archibald. Did you sleep well?” May asked as she stood at the bottom of the staircase that led to the main level where the living room, library, dining room, and kitchen were located.