China Chronicles One: Happily Idling the Day Away

We could be walking in the middle of Binondo, and I would have been just as happy. I can’t remember where exactly we went: I saw brightly colored double-decker buses, harried pedestrians in fashionable winter clothing, streets with English-sounding names, rows and rows of enticingly lit shop windows and gaudy casinos, yet nothing quite registered. I was somewhere in Hong Kong, or some place in Macau, with people I’ve known for more than two decades – that’s all that matters. The biting cold at 7 degrees was something I’m not accustomed to, but in the company of friends I was enveloped in the warmth of familiarity that comes only from years of closeness and friendship.

You look like a bunch of chattering school girls happily idling the day away, someone remarked while looking at our pictures. And we did. Our joy was ineffable, yet those photos captured how happy we were; what it didn’t show was how precious that time is for all of us. It’s something that we’ve planned for, worried over and looked forward to for a year. Because we now live in different countries, we’ve made it a yearly tradition, an indispensable indulgence and a sacred vow to spend several days together.