In the Orient (4 page)

“Like a log,” he answered, quickly covering the last few stairs between him and the five-foot-four-inch, dark-haired young woman who was smiling up at him. May had just returned from an hour-long lesson with Wu Feng, and she was still wearing her traditional Chinese martial arts uniform, or gi, as she called it.

“And just how does a log sleep?” she asked, not familiar with the colloquialism he’d just used.

“Let’s put it this way, ten minutes after I said good night to you, I was out like a light!” he laughed.

“Well, it seems that your light is back on, and you’re wide awake now,” she replied as she led Archibald into the kitchen. “Since you didn’t eat anything last night, you must be very hungry. We’ve already eaten, but Kuang Jianquo will fix you breakfast. You may have either a traditional Chinese or English breakfast. Mother and Father prefer Chinese, but William and I are partial to fried eggs, bacon, roasted tomato, and toast. The choice is yours.”

Archibald was surprised at the size of the kitchen. About thirty feet square, its walls were covered in gleaming white tiles. Kuang Jianquo was standing between the large stainless steel stove that stood against one wall and the butcher block island that was in the middle of the room. The portly Chinese cook dressed all in white looked up expectantly, waiting for the young houseguest to place his order.

“Alright, Archibald, what will it be for you this morning—Chinese or English?” May asked.

Archibald had no idea what a Chinese breakfast included. However, remembering that one of his father’s favorite sayings was, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” he decided to chance it, answering, “Chinese, please.”

Ah-lam, who’d just walked in, smiled and asked Archibald whether he’d like to be served at the table in the corner of the kitchen or in the formal dining room. Before he could answer, May replied, “Let’s eat in here, if you don’t mind. I’ll have some tea and a sesame cake with you.”

Minutes later, Archibald was having his first taste of hot yum cha, which literally translated to “drink tea.” The traditional morning tea was followed by successive small bowls of sweet and savory soymilk porridge and spinach dumplings, all of which were accompanied by Chinese crullers and sesame cakes.

Halfway through the meal, Mrs. Chen arrived and apologized to Archibald for not having been there to greet him when he came downstairs that morning, explaining that she had to leave early for an appointment.

“Mr. Chen is also sorry he wasn’t here,” she continued, “but he needs to spend the better part of the day at his office. However, he has arranged for Robert to take you, May, and William on a tour of Hong Kong Island just as soon as William returns from his cricket practice.”

Raising an eyebrow at her daughter, Mrs. Chen cleared her throat and then said, “May, I trust that as soon as Archibald has finished his breakfast, you’ll excuse yourself to change into something more suitable for the tour.”

“Yes, mah ma,” May answered, winking at Archibald as she bowed and turned her head so her mother couldn’t see.

It was late morning when Robert Liu drove his three young passengers out of the garage at Jade Place en route to the first of several stops he would make that afternoon.

As soon as a brief driving tour of Victoria Peak was concluded, the Mercedes-Benz turned east along the waterfront on Gloucester Road, and then south on Route 1 toward their initial destination, Ocean Park.

William began reading the first of many passages he would recite from a Hong Kong tour book. “Ocean Park opened in 1977, and today it is one of the foremost parks housing marine mammals, other creatures that live in the sea and on land, and an array of amusement rides. It is not only one of the most popular tourist attractions in Hong Kong, but also throughout the Far East.”

“I’ve been there several times,” May chimed in, “and we don’t have enough time today to do it justice. However, if you like it, we can always come back another time.”

Later, while standing at Ocean Park’s dolphin pool, Archibald was reminded of the pink dolphins he’d seen while out on the Amazon River with Jockabeb and Uncle Charlie. Although the Hong Kong dolphins were gray and much larger, they played in the water just like their pink cousins in Brazil.

After spending an hour walking through the sections of Ocean Park that were devoted to marine mammals and fish, William looked at his watch and announced, “Alright, your tour guide needs to keep you on schedule, so it’s time to head to Repulse Bay.”

As the car headed east along the south coast of Hong Kong Island, William adjusted his glasses and referred to his tour book once again. Leafing through the pages, he found the write-up on Repulse Bay, and then began to read.

“Repulse Bay’s name dates back to the early 1840s when the bay was used as a staging area for pirates who attacked foreign merchant ships trading with China,” he began. “The British fleet finally repulsed the pirates, hence the name ‘Repulse Bay.’ Repulse Bay was developed into a beach in the early 1900s, and today it boasts some of the most beautiful and expensive beach front property anywhere in Hong Kong.”

As they passed Deep Water Bay and arrived at the outskirts of Repulse Bay, Archibald thought to himself that he was seeing some of the prettiest natural shoreline anywhere in the world. He also thought back to Dorothy’s famous line in The Wizard of Oz: “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

After a quick barefoot walk on the white sand beach, they began their journey to the last stop of the afternoon—the world-famous Stanley Market located on a peninsula at the southernmost tip of Hong Kong Island.

On the way there, William explained that the town of Stanley had been a fishing village long before the British arrived, and it was the last stand for the British before they surrendered to the Japanese in 1941. Then he added, “While few people would travel to Stanley to buy fresh fish today, many tourists and locals flock there to shop for clothes, antiques, electronics, and all sorts of other merchandise.”

The market was bustling when they arrived. Since they’d skipped lunch, the first stop was a row of street food vendors. Archibald was totally confused by the number of unfamiliar foods, and the variety of different smells completely overwhelmed him.

After some discussion, William opted for fried tofu, while May talked Archibald into joining her for a combo of fried fish balls and octopus arms. Although somewhat hesitant about eating octopus, Archibald was pleasantly surprised by how good it tasted.

Forty-five minutes later after Archibald had visited several of the merchant stalls, he finally made his first four purchases in Hong Kong—a silk scarf for his mother, a beaded necklace for Tess, a jade-handled letter opener for his father, and a T-shirt for his brother.

The T-shirt had the Chinese characters sun wukong on the front. The shopkeeper said that Sun Wukong was the name of the famous Chinese Monkey King.

During the drive from Stanley back to The Peak, jet lag finally caught up with Archibald, and he dozed off for about twenty minutes. William remembered
how the same thing had happened to him the day after he’d landed in San Francisco, and then again when he returned to Hong Kong, so he whispered to his sister, “Just let him sleep. He needs it.”

It was seven o’clock when Robert Liu parked the car in the garage at Jade Place. Once upstairs on the main level, Archibald, William, and May were informed by Ah-lam that Dr. and Mrs. Chen were out, but they would meet them for dinner at eight o’clock at Dr. Chen’s favorite dim sum restaurant, Fook Lam Moon.

Ah-lam then passed on the instructions she’d received earlier, saying, “Mrs. Chen told me to tell you that the car will depart for the restaurant at a quarter to eight. She also told me to tell you that the dress code for the evening is sport coats for the men and informal dresses for the women.”

Since Archibald’s choice of a sport coat and for shoes was limited to a blue blazer and black loafers, his remaining decisions were whether to wear khaki or gray slacks, and whether a light blue or white shirt would look best. After a quick shower, he chose the khakis and a white button-down collared shirt.

In the car on the way to the restaurant, Archibald was a bit embarrassed when he asked, “I know I should know this, but can you tell me what dim sum is?”

“Sure,” William replied. “It’s a traditional style of Cantonese cooking where bite-sized portions of food are brought to the table on small plates or in individual steamer baskets. Sometimes the dim sum comes
wrapped in a dumpling, and sometimes not. It is served family style, where everyone shares. Because the portions are small, we traditionally have a variety of different dishes. It’s really quite good, and this restaurant is one of father’s favorites for good reason.”

“If you don’t like dim sum, there’ll be other choices on the menu,” May chimed in. Then she smiled and added, “Personally, I love dim sum.”

Fook Lam Moon was located in the Wan Chai district on Hong Kong Island, not far from the base of Victoria Peak. Since it opened in 1973, the restaurant’s reputation for serving some of the best Cantonese food in Hong Kong had grown steadily with both tourists and locals alike. Archibald figured that the food must be good because he could see a number of people waiting for tables as he followed William and May through the restaurant’s front door at precisely eight o’clock.

Dr. and Mrs. Chen were already seated when a hostess wearing a cheongsam, the traditional Chinese embroidered long dress, showed their children and Archibald to the round lazy susan table. Approaching the table, Archibald was struck by the myriad of sounds and smells in the bustling, brightly colored restaurant.

“Well now, Archibald,” Dr. Chen said as he stood and waved his hand toward the open seat to his left, “sit
down next to me and tell us what you thought of the tour this afternoon.”

“Perhaps we should all look at the menu and order before Archibald gives us his impressions of our little island,” Mrs. Chen suggested, patting her husband on his forearm.

“Right you are,” Dr. Chen answered. “Archibald, if you need help with the menu, May will explain the various dishes to you. I hope you like dim sum because Fook Lam Moon is, in my humble opinion, the premiere dim sum restaurant in Hong Kong.”

After everyone had selected their top choices, Dr. Chen ordered for the table. Finally, after drink orders were given—hot tea for each of the Chen family members, and a cold bottle of Coca-Cola for the American—Archibald proceeded to answer Dr. Chen’s initial question.

Dr. and Mrs. Chen could see that their young guest was genuinely enthusiastic as he recounted his reactions to all the places he’d visited earlier in the day. When Archibald began to describe the T-shirt he’d purchased at Stanley Market, Dr. Chen’s right eyebrow arched.

“Sun Wukong, the famous Monkey King, eh,” Dr. Chen said, stroking his chin. “Well now, you probably have never heard of the Monkey King, but he’s the main character in one of my favorite Chinese novels, Journey to the West.

“The Monkey King was born from a stone. He went on to obtain amazing powers, but he gets himself into
all kinds of trouble before Buddha finally imprisons him inside a mountain. Ultimately, the Monkey King escapes from the mountain and goes on to achieve Buddhahood. My favorite part is—”

“I think we should let Archibald finish telling us about his impressions of Hong Kong,” Mrs. Chen politely interrupted, again patting her husband’s forearm. “There will be plenty of time to discuss the Monkey King later. In fact, if my memory is correct, Journey to the West is the novel that Archibald’s Chinese Literature class will be studying this summer.”

“Again, right you are, my dear,” Dr. Chen replied. “So, Archibald, continue on with your impressions of Hong Kong.”

Archibald had just finished telling his host family how much he enjoyed eating octopus for the first time, when five bowls of steaming shark fin soup arrived. After the soup was consumed, deep fried prawn spring rolls, fried wanton with a sweet and sour dipping sauce, and Chinese pickled cucumbers and cabbage were placed on the rotating top in the center of the table.

“Just turn the tabletop when you want something,” May said as she took her chopsticks and then gently lifted up a spring roll and placed it on the plate in front of her. Watching Archibald expertly use his pair of lacquered wooden chopsticks to do the same with a piece of pickled cabbage, she laughed and asked, “Where on earth did you learn to use chopsticks?”

“Didn’t you know that all Americans use chopsticks when we eat our burgers and fries?” Archibald shot back with a huge smile on his face.

After everyone had their fill of the steamed dim sum dishes, which included chicken wrapped in Chinese wild yam, spare ribs smothered in black bean sauce, pork dumplings with crab roe, prawn dumplings with vegetables, and char sin buns, it was time for dessert. Never in his life had Archibald seen or tasted desserts even remotely similar to the steamed layered custard cream, leaf wrapped glutinous dumplings with red bean paste, and fresh mango pudding that rotated before him on the lazy susan.

The meal concluded with another first for Archibald—fresh lychee fruit. As he popped one of the circular white lychees into his mouth, he thanked his hosts, saying, “This was awesome! I’m going to have to get the correct spelling and description of everything we ate. Then I can write home all about it!”

“I’m so glad you liked it,” Mrs. Chen replied, assuming “awesome” was a compliment. “However, you need to know that we don’t dine like this every night, although I must admit that Kuang Jianquo is an excellent cook.”

Robert Liu had arranged for a taxi to be waiting outside the front door of the restaurant when the Chens and Archibald finished their meal. While May and her parents rode home with Robert, Archibald and William followed close behind in the taxi. It had been a busy first
full day in Hong Kong, so it didn’t surprise William when Archibald nodded off just before the taxi arrived back at Jade Place.

After saying good night to the Chen family, Archibald headed up the stairs to his room. For the second night in a row, he was asleep within ten minutes of closing his bedroom door.