On one last day during my time in Hong Kong, I run into a missionary in the subway. He talked to me in Chinese and asked if I was going to work. I answered Do I look like I am going to work? I am a tourist! He’s surprised and we chat a bit. We all know what missionaries want when they chat with you. I only let him talk for a little more than he should because he’s totally cute, tall blond hair blue eyes guy, so my type of guys, plus he speak chinese to me man! Little did he know as he try to convert me to his beliefs, I am also doing the same thing to him, trying to convert him to play in “my team”, well, that and also get rid of the so called CD-player he has in his pocket and join me as an ipod owner~ All kidding and jokes aside, It was actually nice, not because he’s cute, but because he’s an American~ I was glad to talk to another fellow American in Hong Kong, I guess by the last days I started to miss home and the people back here in NY. and Hong Kong to me is just a vacation destination, a shopping center, the city is kinda foreign to me that i don’t have more feeling or emotional attachment to it than let’s say London or Amsterdam~ It’s weird to say such a thing to a city where I was born, but that is the truth. After 13 years I am more of a New Yorker than someone from Hong Kong.

The flight back was once again disappointing – I was delay at the airport for 4 hours because of engine problem. I really started to doubt Cathy Pacific as good airline, I mean the service is good and people are polite, and I can speak Chinese, but maybe they should consider buying some better planes. The plane back wasn’t the crowded unbearable 747, but a more spacous Airbus. However, it was still a full flight and once again with kids! they cried and yelled~ Little monsters! Seriously there should be an age limit to who can be on a plane! Cry babies shouldn’t be allowed!!!

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