How many sleeps until Christmas?

It's a well known fact that I get very overexcited about Christmas and in particular the run up to Christmas.   David resigns himself to his annual trip to B&Q on the 1st December, where he reluctantly adopts the role of Chief Christmas Tree Holder-Upper, while I ummm and ahhhhh over selecting the perfect tree.  Last year, I made the mistake of handing the decision making process over to David and we ended up with a tree so large we struggled to cram ourselves into his Landrover with it.  Decorating it also proved a challenge as we only had enough baubles and fairy lights for our usual sensibly selected 5 foot tree as opposed to this spindly 8 foot monstrosity - proving biggest is not always best and certain tasks are best left to the girls.

Besides decorating the tree, daubing our entire house with gaudy tinsel and twinkly lights, and filling the air with generous squirts of M&S' festive room spray, I dust down the 'Now that's what I call Christmas' CD.  While singing at the top of my voice to the original Band Aid's 'Do they know it's Christmas', I'll crack open the first of many bottles of M&S mulled wine.  David will return from work each night to find that once more M&S party food is on the menu for dinner.  Ever the long-suffering husband, he will feign excitement at mini-steak and kidney pies, pork belly on toothpicks and brie and cranberry bites washed down with a glass of Baileys, silently willing January to hurry up and arrive.

Once the house is decorated, the Christmas music is blasting, and the microwave is pinging repeatedly in time, the Christmas parties start.  With our rapidly expanding waistlines, we don our meticulously chosen party outfits, which seem a bit tighter than when we had last tried them on.  Joining our work colleagues we hastily force alcohol and food down our throats like foie gras geese, before demonstrating our questionable dancing skills.  Then wake up the following morning full of drunken remorse, brooding over what we may have said and done the night before.

This year is different though.  It is 9th December and there is nothing in our flat to indicate that Christmas is fast approaching.  We have no tree and no fairy lights.  I have only indulged in a couple of Starbucks' gingerbread lattes, and not a single M&S canape has passed my lips.  I haven't even bought a party outfit as my diary is bereft of Christmas parties.  Somehow Christmas isn't Christmas for me in 20 degrees and sunshine.  Mulled wine, mince pies and Christmas carols don't seem the same when they aren't shared and enjoyed beside a log fire with friends and family.  But only 4 more sleeps and I'm back home in the UK and Christmas can commence.....

In the meantime, here are a selection of Hong Kong's very stylish Christmas decorations to get everyone in the festive spirit....

 The Landmark

Pacific Place

Tai O Heritage Hotel

  

The Fine Art of Procrastination

Throughout my school, college and university days I perfected the art of procrastination.  I excelled at postponing homework, coursework, dissertations, projects and revision until the last possible moment.  Generally this led to a horribly angst-ridden last minute panic and I still have a recurring nightmare about sitting my A Level exams knowing that I had done the bare minimum to scrape by.  Once I started working I became far more controlled and focused on completing work within defined time frames and without a last minute panic.  This is undoubtedly a necessity in the advertising and PR world where clients will often chuck in a last minute curveball or bring forward a deadline so you need to stay ahead of the game and be highly organised.

Now that I am not working and not in a pressured environment where if you let things slip you will unleash the fury of your client and your boss, I am rediscovering my talent for procrastination.  I'm not enjoying this foray back in time to teenage me, it makes me feel restless and angry with myself.  While I have time on my hands I feel I should be making huge in roads into my novel, blogging regularly and doing all the pre-course reading and studying for my course.  Instead, in the past couple of weeks I have crawled my way through my pre-course studying, made pitiful progress with my novel and hardly blogged at all.  I have been trying to work out what has caused me to put on the brakes and revert to me aged 18.

Excuse No.1 :  Recently we have had a few visitors which has disrupted the routine I had developed and as each visitor has left, I have found it harder and harder to re-establish my daily rhythm. 

Excuse No. 2:  I have attended a variety of writers' events and critique groups which have made me question my writing abilities and quelled my enthusiasm for writing.  Many of the writers I have met are academics, developing cleverly crafted literary work.  I am neither academic nor writing anything worthy of a Booker Prize nomination, and I have felt embarrassed reading my light-hearted puerile prose to them for critique.  As a result I have struggled to put pen to paper while I internally wrestle with myself as to the exact point of turning my back on my established career to do something I may not even be any good at.  

Excuse No. 3:  In the past I know I have deliberately filled every moment of my day, fearful of stopping to give myself time to face up to feelings of discontent.  Maybe I'm no longer scared to stop so with a sigh of relief I've pulled on the handbrake at last.  

Today, I have vowed that there will be no more excuses and the procrastination will end.  The visitors have stopped, so my routine can be reinstated.  So what, if my novel isn't high-brow, some people like light literature and I will learn from the academics to make it as well-written as possible.  And does it really matter if I've stalled for a couple of weeks, it is only me telling myself I 'should' be doing more that has created this angst.  So this is my first step to putting a stop to procrastination.

High fives and hugs

If I had visited a fortune teller a year ago who had predicted that before the end of 2013 I would have walked away from my hard-fought for career to train to become an English language teacher, I would have laughed in their face and asked for my money back.  Yet, here I am, volunteering as an English support teacher at a YWCA funded kindergarten in Kowloon one morning a week, as well as preparing for my CertTESOL course starting in January.  

I have surprised myself at just how much I am enjoying my Wednesday mornings at Faith Hope Nursery School  (if you click on the link you can watch a short video filmed in the school).   Each week for three hours I have had the opportunity to unleash my inner thespian.  To the wide-eyed astonishment and amusement of the children I morph unabashed from a lion, to a monkey, to a rabbit - roaring, simultaneously scratching my head and tummy, and twitching my nose.  I delight as they mimic my exaggerated facial expressions to illustrate 'toothache'.   I see their eyes widen with pleasure as they are able to point to their knees and their feet when asked, and I love how they remember the shoulder-shrugging dance I have taught them when I ask them where their shoulders are.  Singing 'Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' has more relevance and appeal when you know you have taught the children those words and they understand them.  Each Wednesday I leave the kindergarten with a broad smile on my face and a warm sense of accomplishment.  After I have received formal teacher training, I know I will be able to make a greater difference - right now, I am only scratching the surface.

Every week I return to Faith Hope Nursery School the children come further out of their shells.  When on day one some of the children averted their eyes and hid behind their parents legs as I arrived at the school, I am now greeted by a chorus of 'Good morning' and 'Hello Adrienne'.  The children have mastered my mouthful of a name quicker than many native English speakers I have met in my lifetime! Each week I have managed to engage more of the children in each class, and today I was thrilled to get a number of the previously mute children speaking English.  My spontaneous tactic of getting the classes to high-five me as they said goodbye last week appears to have established a little bond between us all.  This week, many of them demanded an upgrade to a goodbye hug!  

As I went and said goodbye to the headteacher today, she asked if I would be able to return to the school after Christmas - apparently they like me and think I am doing a good job.  As I will be studying full-time in January and then need to find paid employment, I have reluctantly had to say that I am unable to commit.  However, she did say that there may be a possibility of paid part-time work next year, so I will keep in touch once my volunteering finishes in December.  I would love to be able to carry on at Faith Hope Nursery School - working there is genuinely the most rewarding thing I have done in 41 years.  I hope the children are getting as much out of it as I am.

The richest people in Hong Kong

Since I have been having time out from working, David and I have had no choice but to live a more frugal existence.  For someone like me who is adept at spending money and has been known to desire the finer things in life, I thought this was going to be a great challenge.  However, over the past couple of months I have quickly learned that 1) flaunting money is futile (not that I have ever had all that much to flaunt!) 2) I can live relatively cheaply without missing out and 3) I have wasted a LOT of money over the years.

When I first moved to Hong Kong I was a little taken in by the ever-present hunger to accumulate and display wealth through wearing the right clothes and jewellery, eating in the right restaurants and holidaying in the smartest resorts.  I wanted to earn enough so I could have the odd pair of designer shoes (preferably Louboutins), to dine occasionally at a Michelin starred restaurant and to relax in five star luxury once a year or so.  I wanted to fit in and feel a part of this affluent crowd.  Since I have been here I have achieved two of the three things on the list.  Owning a pair of Louboutins when you live on a practically vertical hill is asking for a broken ankle and even I see the frivolousness in owning a pair of shoes you can only look at.

Now that we have only one income supporting the household and we have had to cut-back on everything, it is becoming more and more apparent that we are far happier living a more basic existence.  Yes, posh restaurants are nice, but you are often seated within earshot of at least one table of w**kers.  Five star resorts are picture-postcard perfect, but you miss out on an authentic experience of the country you are visiting.  As for designer clothes, well, when you are a comfortable size 14 (UK), the thought of  being turned away by a stick-thin sniffy shop assistant for being too large, puts me off even passing through the entrance of such clothes shops.

So, as flashing the cash has been put on the back-burner for David and me, the changes we have had to make to live a more frugal existence have included:

1)  I have only bought one item of clothing (and it cost less than HK$250/£20) in the past three months.
2)  I have found a hairdresser that is half the price of the one I was visiting (only HK$860/£70 for cut and highlights).  NB I would have to be completely broke before I gave up getting my hair coloured!
3) I will never shop for more than a day in advance - this prevents us from having to throw away things we don't get round to eating.
4)  Meat is a treat.  Eggs, veg, rice, bread and pasta are our staples.
5)  I have reverted to my student style drinking - pints of lager and lime.... cheaper and lasts longer than anything else.  Not very lady-like but who's judging?
5)  If I crave a cocktail, I will find a Happy Hour serving a lychee martini for HK$30/£2.40
6)  If we eat out, we will choose a budget restaurant.
7)  We spend much more time at home together, playing cards and talking/fighting depending on who is winning cards.
8)  Sometimes we just have to say, "We're sorry but we can't afford to do that"

We have had to adjust our lives and I can hand on heart say that these changes have in no way detracted from our enjoyment.  In fact, right now, life in Hong Kong is the best it has ever been for us.
Each day, I become more and more convinced that this ever-present quest for wealth is futile - no matter how much you strive to earn, it is never enough. Life is far richer when you are surrounded by close friends and family who love you, care for you and don't judge you for what you have and don't have.  I guess that makes David and I the richest people in Hong Kong.

Airing my dirty laundry

As anyone who reads my blog regularly will know, I have been engaged in some fairly intensive soul searching during my time in Hong Kong - trying to define what will give me the direction and purpose I feel I have lost somewhere along the way.  Over the past month I have been seeing a cognitive behavioural therapist who has been helping to guide me through the process of finding calm, peace, acceptance and to rediscover my bearings.  I know for many of us 'stiff upper lip' Brits, the concept of airing our dirty laundry to anyone - let alone a stranger - is very un-British and we would rather sweep our issues under the carpet and drown them in alcohol.  For me, it was a case of desperate times call for desperate measures, plus drowning my issues in alcohol was only exacerbating the problem!

I was introduced to a number of techniques and ideas that have really helped me to get to where I am today - content, calm and back on track.  Besides keeping a thought diary to help me change my negative thought patterns, and meditation to calm my overactive mind, my therapist suggested that I may find it useful to write down my feelings.  I don't think she anticipated I would share those feelings and publish them for anyone to see on my blog - neither did I for that matter.  However this has proven to be the most cathartic and productive part of the process and I want to thank all of you who have 'liked' my blogs, posted supportive comments and directly emailed me.  You have all played a fundamental role in this mending process.

One of the hardest blogs to write was 'Finding my Baby' as it was so deeply personal and revealing and I had to muster up considerable courage to press the 'publish' button.  From the staggering response I received in my inbox, it is evident that many of us feel that life has not dealt us the hand we had hoped for and some element is missing.  As one of my friends wrote “It is a bugger that human nature makes us focus on what we do not have instead of the joy of what we have”.   Revealing my heartbreak and vulnerability helped me discover that I am not alone.  This has provided me with an overwhelming sense of relief, as well as faith that I can start to move on.

I have recently watched Brene Brown's TED Talk on 'The Power of Vulnerability' which discusses her extensive research into courage, shame and vulnerability.  Her research has revealed that connection is what brings meaning to people's lives.  In order to connect we have to fully embrace our vulnerabilities,  have the courage to reveal our imperfections, let go of who we think we should be and accept who we are.  Her words resonate with me - I have had the courage to tell my story on my blog with my whole heart and am reaping the rewards.  

Before I left the UK, I announced to my friends that I was starting a blog when I moved to Hong Kong.  My friend Carly, author of the blog Covet.Collect.Connect, was very encouraging, pointing out that I never knew what writing a blog could lead to.  In Carly's case her blog has led to the opening of her own shop - an extension of her Covet.Collect.Connect brand.  Never ever would I have thought my blog could help me get through a very difficult period in my life and allow me to connect so deeply with so many people - but it has.

Starting the next chapter

A month has passed since I was gainfully employed and I have been resolute in finding ways to give my life the purpose I feel it has been lacking.  My primary challenge has been to investigate how I can earn money doing something meaningful, balanced with having sufficient time to dedicate to my writing.  I am proud to say that despite reaching rock bottom shortly before leaving my job, I have quickly managed to pick myself up and start working towards my path to contentment.

I have applied for a place on the Trinity CertTESOL course to train to teach English as a second language and have been accepted on January's course.  The first step to attaining a salary to fund the writing, which should hopefully simultaneously provide me with a renewed sense of meaning.  I am also starting to volunteer at one of the YWCA kindergarten's one morning each week from next week, where I will read stories in English, to children aged between two to six.  While this fills me with slight trepidation, it will give me my first taste of dealing with very young Cantonese school children.  The Faith Hope Nursery School is on the Lower Wong Tai Sin Estate in Kowloon and should expose me to some of the less affluent inhabitants of Hong Kong - a side of Hong Kong I have been disconnected from since arriving here.

One of the things I love the most about Hong Kong is that if you are passionate about committing to something, there will undoubtedly be a networking group or club you can join to advance your passion.  In the past month I have become a member of WIPS (Women in Publishing) and submitted my first short story which will be published in the next couple of months in Imprint - WIPS' annual anthology of members' work.  This will be the first time a piece of my work has ever been published and I can't wait to finally see my words in print.

I have attended one of the events organised by WIPS about finding a literary agent.  I returned feeling slightly despondent that the path to being published is clearly going to be far harder than I ever hoped.  It has encouraged me to find out more about self-publishing and I am attending a further WIPS event in November about creating eBooks.  Unprompted, my lovely cousin, Patrick Fidgen, also sent me a lengthy email about the ins and outs of self-publishing which is also a useful start point for a complete novice like me.

Finally, tonight, for the first time, I have met up with a group of Hong Kong based writers who get together every Tuesday night in a coffee shop in Central to write.  I have quickly discovered that writing can be a fairly isolating activity.  However, somehow, sitting in a bustling cafe with a small group of people also trying to craft their own short stories, novels or screen-plays, is strangely sociable. Even if you are barely engaging in more than a few minutes of conversation, before returning to your computer screen, it is comforting to be in other people's company.  Tonight's meet-up has opened the door to further creative writing groups and introduced me to 'NaNoWriMo' - National Novel Writing Month - where writers are challenged to write 50,000 words of their novels during November.  A challenge I am considering taking up.

I am really pleased with the progress I have made in the last month and feel excited about what I could achieve over the next year on my new journey, if I can accomplish so much in 30 days.  For the first time in a long time I feel energised, motivated and positive and it feels fantastic.

Finding my baby

In retrospect it is clear to see that my current situation was an unexploded bomb waiting to be unearthed.  Regardless of whether I had stayed in the UK or moved to Hong Kong, it was inevitable that at some point, I would have questioned my purpose and been drawn off the hamster wheel.  In many ways, moving to Hong Kong was an escape from my draining job and a sense that I was struggling to see where I fitted into society any more.  Finding I had secured a significantly more demanding job, and unwittingly, packed this sense of ‘not belonging’ into my suitcase, was the proverbial ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’.

This feeling of no longer ‘fitting in’ is connected to being in my early 40s and childless.    You are conditioned from an early age to believe that your life should follow a structure comprising: going to school; completing university; securing a job; getting married; having kids; living happily ever after; the end.  I believe that when you are unable to tick one of these boxes you feel in some ways you don’t belong.  In our case fate has teased us with the hope of a family four times, and each time cruelly snatched that hope away.   No longer having the emotional strength or inclination to open that chapter again, we are left with a feeling of ‘now what?’  We have involuntarily signed up to a minority group that we never wanted to join in the first place.

I have just read a book by Kasey Edward’s called “30-Something and Over it:  What Happens When You Wake Up and Don’t Want to Go to Work… Ever Again” – I wonder what drew me to purchase this particular tome?  In the book she cites a psychologist, Erik Erikson, who talks of life being split into stages and outlines what we need to do at each stage to be happy, fulfilled and functional.  The seventh life stage, which starts when you reach your 30s, is called ‘Generativity vs Stagnation’.  The premise is during this phase we need to dedicate ourselves to caring for, and passing on our skills and knowledge, to the next generation – or we stagnate.  A depressing thought for a full-fledged member of the childless minority group.  However it goes some way to explaining my feelings of dissatisfaction and purposelessness, and my current desire to ensure my life is serving something bigger than just me.

Now that the metaphorical bomb has exploded, the process I am going through is defining what my ‘baby’ is going to be so I can continue to lead a fulfilled and happy life, rediscover a sense of belonging, and not stagnate.  I have no doubt I will find the answers and each day I am making little steps in the right direction – it is just a rather painful, but necessary, episode to work through.

Jumping off the hamster wheel

When I started this blog it was meant to be a lighthearted look at the thrill and adventure of moving to a new country, documenting the alien and exotic experiences David and I were to encounter.  I wanted to write about living 6,000 miles away from family, friends and our dog in a new, exciting and vibrant place of opportunity where we could further our careers, earn lots of money and return home to England financially secure and fulfilled.  Instead, I feel it has developed into a cathartic outlet for me to vent my frustrations and inner turmoil.

In many ways my expectations of moving to Hong Kong have been met.  We have made our small, but perfectly adequate apartment in the buzzing Mid-Levels, our home.  We are developing an ever-increasing circle of close friends.  We have become active members of Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club.  I found a hairdresser that can tame humidity-induced frizzy hair issues.  And I secured a job that would further my career.  So, within a couple of months of moving to Hong Kong, we were definitely on-track to return home with healthy bank accounts.

Unfortunately my job did not work out leading me to scrutinise every aspect of my life and ultimately my purpose.  Since leaving work I have had time to draw breath and start evaluating what is important to me and what I want from life - which had become a necessity rather than a luxury.  I realise that I have been pounding around the advertising and PR hamster wheel for almost twenty years now, and while from the outside I have been moderately successful, inside I feel depleted and dissatisfied.

Stopping has allowed me to see what a pointless, hedonistic existence I have been leading.  Working long hours, not sleeping properly, feeling so anxious at times I couldn't breathe, worrying and brooding about anything and everything, and snapping at my lovely husband.  Yet each month taking my fat pay cheque to invest in the nice car to look the part, to squander on alcohol and cigarettes to 'ease the stress', to splurge on clothes and shoes to make me feel better, and to fritter away on 'stuff' to clutter my house that I never needed.

So if my chosen career and money isn't the key to happiness, the question is, what is?  I know that I get great pleasure from writing and I think I'm OK at it.  However, I'm a realist and much as I would love to be the next Marion Keyes/David Nicholls/Adele Parks/Jilly Cooper, this isn't going to happen overnight (if at all!).  We have bills to pay and Hong Kong is an expensive city to live in - although it is possible to live here a lot more cheaply than we have been.

I am keen to explore doing something to give my life more meaning than filling the pockets of the shareholders of a faceless American holding company.  Therefore I am investigating TESOL courses, giving me the necessary qualifications to teach English to school children.  While I may have to cultivate my patience, it would allow me to reignite my creative side that has laid dormant since Art College and Uni. Reassuringly I have been told that helpers are present in the schools to clear up any 'accidents'.  It will also give me the opportunity to work part-time if necessary, freeing me up to spend more time writing.

As I spend the next couple of months taking time out to consider my future direction, I am back to writing my book... 17,000 words down.... 73,000 or so to go!  And while I'm not sure exactly what is going to give me a sense that my life is serving something bigger than just me - I am absolutely sure that it will not be by throwing myself back onto the hamster wheel.

How low can you go?

One of the few things that stuck in my mind from A Level English and Geoffrey Chaucer's intolerably dull 'Monk's Tale' was the Wheel of Fortune - a concept in medieval and ancient philosophy referring to the capricious nature of Fate.  The idea that we all have positions on the wheel and Fortuna, the goddess of fortune, spins the wheel at random and when it stops turning, your position determines your fate.  Those at the bottom of the wheel suffer great misfortune, while those at the top gain good fortune.  For the past twenty-something years, I have imagined myself on this wheel and when I feel life is treating me well, I wonder at what point the wheel will be spun again and I will sink to the bottom, and vice versa.  Over the past three months I have felt myself sinking further and further to the bottom of the wheel, each week hoping that I had finally hit the bottom and could at last start rising again, only to descend further.

This week I believe I encountered ground zero and imploded under the stress of my job.  Although I am working my notice, the pressure escalated  rather than abated in the lead up to a major event, and although I have been crying out for help, it has felt as though anyone who could have helped had averted eyes and hands clasped firmly over their ears.  I have never felt so unsupported, isolated and helpless in a work environment.  Each week I have seen my confidence, positivity and happiness sapped from me and this week I realised I was no longer me anymore.  This was reinforced by a complete loss of appetite - although on the plus side weight loss has been a benefit of this emotional apocalypse.

On Friday the sun came out literally and metaphorically and I took the first positive steps to finding me and my direction again.  After such a tumultuous confidence battering, I am left questioning everything and my head is overflowing with questions about my future path that I'm not ready to answer yet.  What I have learnt over the past three months is not to throw myself back into the first thing that presents itself to me, but to take some proper time out to define what I want from my life and what I want to do.  Writing is high on my list, so I intend to spend the next couple of months attempting to complete my book and if nothing else, I will finally satisfy that desire!

Also, I intend to start appreciating and exploring this wonderful, vibrant, exhilarating city I am lucky enough to live in.    This started today with a wander down some back streets where I stumbled across the masterpieces of Hong Kong's answer to Banksy.

So, please Fortuna, start to show some compassion and start spinning that wheel a little bit more favourably so I can pick myself up and start over again.

The Wrong Path

From around the first full week of starting my new job in Hong Kong I had a nagging feeling that I had chosen the wrong path.  When my rational head was telling me to stick with it, give it time, things could only improve - my emotional head was telling me that this was neither the right job nor the right working environment for me.   For the past three months my mind has been in complete turmoil and I've been lost in a fog of contradictory advice offered by friends and family, desperately trying to process the best course of action.  

An email was circulated at work a couple of weeks ago asking everyone to send one of the more senior members of the team three to five positive words we associate with the company.  Realising that the only positive word I could offer was 'money' was a big wake-up call.  Suddenly it dawned on me that I had been walking purposefully down a path I had chosen to follow, only to find that it didn't lead to anywhere I wanted to be.   On Monday I made the decision that it was time to get off the wrong path and find a new route.

So, I am currently staring into the abyss of unemployment and self-inflicted poverty, however I feel an overwhelming sense of relief.  I just have to make it through 21 more working days in my grey cubicle, under artificial light, breathing  recycled air-conditioned air before I am free to find the path that leads to where I want to go.

Surviving Hong Kong

It's been a while since my last post primarily due to work taking over my life and not wanting to spend the few precious moments away from work sitting in front of a computer.  The last month has been incredibly tough, resulting in endless soul searching over what I truly want from my life.  Hong Kong is a tough city to work in.  In the past, I have always had confidence that I have been good at my various jobs and an asset to any company I have worked for, suddenly I find myself engulfed by a sense of failure and an inability to achieve.  With my character being tested to the limits, every single day I am torn between battling on or walking away.

David and I are very fortunate that in the short time we have been here we have made some close friends and got to know our Hong Kong family - Uncle Neil and Uncle Paul - all of whom have been an invaluable support through the past challenging month.  The words of Uncle Neil, ring in my ears daily:

"Hong Kong is a city of survivors - people who have been through some very difficult times without succumbing - they respect survivors."

As a Hong Kong veteran of over 50 years, and a highly successful business man, I know Neil talks sense.  So, this is becoming my daily mantra to remind me to keep fighting, to stick with it and remain positive that all will turn out well.

Enjoying today every day

In my last blog I mentioned coping mechanisms I have developed to deal with the stresses and pressures of working life in Hong Kong - the primary one being to push myself to enjoy the now and not postpone happiness until tomorrow.  Determined not to make work the focus of my life I am making a concerted effort to do one positive, fun thing every day - no matter how small.

In the UK there were times when work would become all encompassing and it would strike me that life had morphed into a cycle of work, dinner, bed, work, dinner, bed, work, dinner, bed until THE WEEKEND, and then repeat.  When I left London I was jolted into taking a good hard look at what my life had become and it kick-started me into throwing myself into sailing and making time to have interests beyond work.  However, as time ticked by in Hamble, I gradually reverted back to the person I thought I had left behind, as sailing slipped by the wayside and once more I was living for the weekends, with few interests beyond work.  Effectively I was only looking forward to, and enjoying 27% of my life and just existing and waiting during the other 73% - a depressing thought.

So, here is how I have applied my new found approach to life in the past week:

• Monday:  Met David in a bar by our house so we could have a conversation over a glass of chilled wine before going home and collapsing in front of the TV
• Tuesday:  Met David for a gin and tonic in Soho and watched a flash mob dance routine break out in the street in front of us
• Wednesday:  Met up with a friend of a friend who was visiting Hong Kong and had a lovely night making a new friend over a delicious dinner at The Pawn, before experiencing Wan Chai's most popular underage drinking establishment
• Thursday:  Lunchtime meeting at Gaia where I enjoyed some fabulous Italian food
• Friday:  Dim Sum lunch with work colleagues, Friday mojitos at the office and dinner at Kowloon cricket club
• Saturday:  Highlights and haircut courtesy of my lovely hairdresser Henry, holiday planning at The Flight Centre and a posh cocktail at Blck Brd with David
• Sunday:  Trip on Aqualuna junk to Stanley followed by lunch

The end result has been that even if work has been hard or high pressured, there has always been something else to look forward to.  While I had developed this approach as a way to cope with the difficult transition into Hong Kong work life,  I am beginning to wish I had addressed my 'living for the weekend' attitude a long time ago.  Like it or not I am 'middle-aged' and it is time to make sure that life doesn't continue to pass me by.  None of us know what is around the corner and we all need to start enjoying today every day.

'No' has been removed from the dictionary

The past month has been tougher than I could have ever imagined.  If I had been aware that the transition from a comfortable life in our sailing village with a drinking problem, to a super-charged, atomic-paced city with an even worse drinking problem would be quite so challenging, I probably would have opted out of making the change.

Perhaps my biggest challenge has been settling into my job which I naively thought would be the least of my worries.  Business is conducted differently here.  Hong Kong is an entrepreneur's playground and anything is possible.  'No' has been removed from the dictionary which means that when a client proposes the 'impossible' you have to work out a way to make it happen.  This requires quite a change of mindset when dealing with clients, shifting from the British 'conditioning of expectations' to the standard Hong Kong 'yes, no problem' - accompanied with well-disguised internal angst and (in my case) complete blind panic.

Dealing with this completely alien work culture has resulted in my mind going into over-drive deliberating over micro worries like do I have the ability to do my job, to macro worries like what do I really want to achieve from my life.  The only thing I have concluded is that I don't know the answer to any of these questions, so while I try to get to the bottom of these dilemmas, I have begun to develop a coping mechanism.  The techniques that I am applying to deal with the pressures and stresses are:

1. Dealing with one day at a time and focusing only on what I need to achieve on that particular day;
2. Learning to say yes but realising that finding a solution does not rest squarely on my shoulders alone; 
3. Trying to care less - the worst thing that can happen is I get fired;
4. Pushing myself to enjoy the NOW and not postpone happiness and fulfilment for tomorrow;
5. When all else fails - throw money at the problem by investing in a neck and shoulder massage followed by a lychee martini.  

Chucking money at the problem... a foot massage

So in answer to the question in my earlier blog - "What’s the great lesson that this culture and these people seem to be teaching me?" - it is live for the moment and worry about the future tomorrow.

The shock of culture shock

Before I moved to Hong Kong I spent many a sleepless night dream scheming my new life in Asia.  I read a lot about culture shock but naively I brushed it aside believing that I was worldly and adaptable and it would not be an issue I would encounter.  Besides, I know lots of people who have relocated abroad over the years, and never once have I had a conversation with them, or seen a single post on Facebook, to indicate that they are, or have, suffered from culture shock.  In fact the photographs of smiling faces, stunning locations, blue skies, sunshine, exotic beaches and snow capped mountains would suggest that life beyond the UK shores is nothing but an idyllic adventure.

The shock of the bad news we received from the UK a couple of weeks ago, combined with a tough start to my new job, toppled me from my smug high-ground and I have been descending fast into a pit of anxiety, loneliness, sadness, irritability and depression.  Silently I find myself hoping that I have hit the bottom and it is time to start finding a way out.  Having tried to understand and analyse why I feel the way I do it is clear that I am deep in the throws of culture shock.  This was not meant to happen to me - I'm open-minded and culturally sensitive.  I have lived and worked abroad before and never experienced this intense combination of emotions dragging me down to a place I don't want to be.

My culture shock is all encompassing and it sends ripples out to all those close to me.  I have never been very good at masking my emotions.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and what you see is what you get.  The result being that when I'm up, I'm great fun to be around but when I'm down I have a tendency to drag down with me those I love and care for the most.  I am very lucky to have David as a husband.  He is one of the most cheerful people I know and he can always see the positive in every situation.  I have no doubt that he felt the 'honeymoon phase' passing and 'the honeymoon is over phase' kicking in.  I suspect that being the person he is, he suffered in silence, put a big smile on his face, and just knuckled down and got on with his new life.  I, on the other hand, have been extremely tearful, dwelling on my emotions and over-analysing what I can do to overcome this culture shock.  However, despite feeling like withdrawing from the world, I have started to set in place some coping mechanisms to see me through this phase and on to the 'all's well and everything's OK phase'.

I am working hard to build a support network of friends around me here in Hong Kong.  Two girlfriends here in particular, have very patiently listened to me articulate my feelings and buoyed me up with their invaluable advice.  I have signed up to a number of Meet-Up groups and last Wednesday I took myself off to a pub quiz with an eclectic group of strangers and surprised myself with my contribution in the music round with my immense knowledge of song lyrics.  Everyone was incredibly welcoming and it was a great comfort to talk to an American guy who completely empathised with my feelings and reassured me that it will pass.  Last weekend I was very happy to receive a friend request on Facebook from an old school friend who I was unaware lives in Hong Kong and we plan to meet up when she returns from a holiday in the UK.  And today I have been contacted by a girl who has recently relocated from Shanghai to Hong Kong suggesting we meet up for a drink.  As my support network builds, I have no doubt that this minor set-back will pass and life will become easier to deal with.

I am determined to fight this culture shock hard and beat it quickly. Thank you to all those who have born the brunt of my negative emotions and in particular my amazing husband and my long-suffering parents.

My Winnie who I miss soooo much

Welcome to London on speed

Now that I am working I am no longer an observer of Hong Kong life but I am an active participant.  Hong Kong is a city packed with locals and foreigners committed to working extremely hard to improve their status and the health of their bank accounts.  One in seven people living on Hong Kong island is classified as a high net worth individual and their wealth is evident every single day from the countless designer shops, the flash cars and chauffeur driven people carriers, the luxurious properties and the sharply dressed business men and women.  It is difficult not to be sucked into aspiring to owning that Cartier watch, dressing in head to toe Chanel, clutching a Hermes bag and wearing genuine Louboutins.  Now that I am working here, I realise that these things do not come without certain sacrifices.

The population of Hong Kong works hard.  I thought agency life in London was tough and often we had to rearrange our personal lives to get things completed to deadlines set by demanding clients.  Hong Kong is London on speed.  I have never had to learn so much - including cultural differences, the asian market, and the company's way of doing things - while at the same time just getting on with business, juggling a number of different demands and hitting challenging timelines.  I see more of the office and my colleagues each week than I do of my husband.  However, this is the reality of working in Hong Kong.  If you want to improve your status and earn the money, you have to put in the hours.  Nothing will be handed to you on a plate and it is a competitive market - if you aren't prepared to do it, someone else will be. 

The issue with working the long hours is that you have to have a way of letting off steam and releasing the stress.  Suddenly the endless bright flashing lights advertising foot massages and the numerous lavender scented pampering spas make sense.  At the same time the rows and rows of bars lining the escalator no longer appear to be sociable hangouts for the weekends but more like a daily provider of medicinal support.  

It has become clear that this is a 'no pain, no gain' culture.  Without a doubt the money is here and Hong Kong offers the opportunity for you chase your dream, but you will have to work hard for it.    I found a blog that sums up my current feelings towards Hong Kong rather well:

"What’s the great lesson that this culture and these people seem to be teaching me? Push harder? Run or get out of the way? Eat or be eaten?  Maybe Hong Kong is trying to tell me that the world waits for no one and if you want to be a part of it, stay on top of it – stay in the line.  Or does it say that all of this insane pressure lands you the same place as everyone else – wanting more?"

Too far away from home

When David and I were making our decision to move to Hong Kong, one of the factors that affected our final choice was that both our parents are fit and healthy, and we believed that we should have a good window to be out of the country before we may be needed back home in the UK.  Having said that my mother had pointed out before I left that although I would be very good at arranging the logistics, financials and practicalities of care - I would perhaps be lacking in the cuddly, fluffy, compassionate element of it!  She feels that my brothers may be better qualified to provide empathy, patience and benevolence than me - and I can't really argue with that particularly when I see how they are with their children.

During our relocation, it had frequently crossed my mind that at some point we would receive a bad news call, and that would be the moment when the reality of our distance from home would strike.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, I had always felt that that call would be related to our parents, as they are the oldest generation alive in both David and my family.  At the same time, I didn't anticipate receiving this type of call for a good long while after arriving here, once we were established and truly settled in.

Therefore we were staggered and shaken to receive a bad news call this week about a very close friend.   Suddenly the distance that superficially diminishes due to FaceTime, Skype and Facebook - opened up like an infinite chasm.  David and I felt utterly cast adrift from where we want to be, supporting our friend and her husband, face to face, back home.  All at once the reality of being an expat loses its shine, and the implications of our decision to move 6,000 miles away from friends and family seems selfish and reckless.

I can only hope that despite the distance we are able to prop up our friend and her husband remotely and technology will help to close the gap that physically separates us.  While, in the words of my mother, I'm useless at the fluffy, caring, compassionate stuff - I am hoping that humour and wit will suffice.  Above all we are going to stay positive that our lovely friend will fight hard - and if anyone can fight hard, she can - to reach her goal of visiting us in Hong Kong in November.

Back to work

I have successfully survived my first full week back in full time employment and I am loving the structure, routine and purpose that has been injected back into my life.  Although I have spent almost all of my working life employed in agencies - starting in advertising, moving to media planning and buying, then to full service, ending up in healthcare PR - I have never worked for a global public relations agency before.  However, it has proven to be a very familiar environment and in many ways it is very similar to working in London for JWT and MindShare.

For example there are around 60 people working in our office - so it is considerably larger than the past three agencies I have worked within.  This means that there are more people in the team to support you and to delegate to, which is radically different to working in a small agency where you simply have to get stuck in and do everything yourself including a lot of time consuming but essential admin.  Being part of a global network you also have access to colleagues on the ground in other markets so you have direct contacts for insight and support.   And many of the clients I will be working with are multi nationals with established PR and marketing practices and sensible budgets which allows you to develop more innovative ideas.  In the week that I have been back at work, the agency has already scooped two PR awards and it is exciting to be back into this type of environment.  As with working in London agencies, the hours are a lot longer than I have been working recently and working remotely does not appear to be encouraged.  Also it appears to be a bit of a 'sink or swim' culture - you are expected to use your initiative, put in the hours and just get on with the job.  There is no nurturing and hand-holding - which suits my nature and I'm used to that way of working from my London days.

The noticeable differences are:

1. I am the odd one out!  In our open plan office I stand out as the only one with blonde hair and blue eyes.
2. Although our contracts say that our hours are 9.00am to 5.30pm the Hong Kong Chinese tend to arrive at around 9.30am and work late into the evening.  Being someone who works more effectively in the morning, I tend to get in early and the office is a ghost town until everyone starts trickling in at 9.30am.
3. The Hong Kong locals are passionate about food and everyone will take their full hour at lunchtime - often heading to a diner serving cantonese food - which is typically some form of meat with rice or noodles.  Over the past 19 years of my working life I have rarely taken my full lunch break.
4. The first language of everyone sitting in the same area as me is Cantonese and I hadn't fully appreciated how strange it would be to understand absolutely nothing that my colleagues are saying to each other.  Having worked in open plan offices for most of my career I have become adept at zoning out background noise and focusing but I do subconsciously pick up what is being said around me and often chip in with comments.  However I can't do that at all now!  

At the moment I am getting out of bed and feeling excited about going to work.  I have my structure back, I feel visible again, I am surrounded by people all day, I am being stretched mentally and I even have an element of stress back so I don't need to create stress any more!

Working Girl in my Little Posh Dress

The grass is always greener

Having had a very welcome three month break, yesterday was my introduction back into the working world.  I had not had a break from work of more than two weeks in the past ten years and the contrast between how I believed I would use my freedom versus the reality has been quite an insight into the strange way I work.  

How I believed I would spend my free time

1. Lying on the beach soaking up the rays while my skin turned a gorgeous honey gold colour without damaging my skin or ageing me at all
2. Going swimming for an hour everyday to lose the bingo wings and flatten the stomach
3. Finishing the book I am about one fifth of the way through writing with the endless time I would have on my hands
4. Blogging from Starbucks while nurturing the perfect Americano
5. Exploring every inch of Hong Kong, eating out every night and spending very little time in our small (but perfectly formed) apartment

How I actually spent my free time

1. Looking out of the window at the grey rainy weather while applying fake tan and trying to put a positive spin on the fact that I was not able to fry myself under the sun's damaging rays
2. Walking up the Peak or around Hong Kong Zoo which generally seemed more appealing than swimming and cost less
3. Researching job sites, LinkedIn and company websites, tweaking my CV and covering letter, applying for jobs and sending introduction emails to kick-start the job hunt
4. Meeting up with numerous recruitment, advertising, PR, digital and media agency contacts in the quest to find the perfect job
5. Preparing and attending interviews
6. Developing proposals for speculative project work
7. Winning project work and project managing and copywriting a website, attending meetings and leading conference calls
8. Finding that the hunt for a new job and working freelance left little/no time for focusing on finishing my book 
9. Blogging from home as Starbucks and Pacific Coffee Company only offer 20 minutes of free wifi - oh and I've given up coffee
10. Lying on the sofa thinking I should get up and explore more of Hong Kong but the pull of watching another episode of Made in Chelsea or The Apprentice was just too strong
11. Looking around the shops and accidentally returning home with bulging bags when I was meant to be being frugal
12. Detoxing and feeling like death as my body tried to rid itself of 41 years of toxins
13. Giving up smoking without any pre-planning and sticking to it - so far
14. Feeling envious of people going to work each day and having purpose, routine and structure in their lives

The most surprising realisations over these past three months are that:

1. I crave structure and routine in my life and my default is to develop a routine to my day
2. I feel directionless and invisible without a full-time job
3. I yearn for people's company and banter and feel lonely without it 
4. I need to be stretched mentally and be around people I can learn from
5. If I don't have stress in my life, I will create stress in my life

Now that I am back in the working world I am hoping that once more I will feel fulfilled and won't find that this is simply a case of the grass always being greener.  If I ever start moaning about my job - please will someone refer me back to this blog!

Back to work in my Little Posh Dress

Window shopping in China

Looking at the weather forecast last Saturday and seeing the outlook was for rain, rain and more rain, it seemed a good opportunity to convince David to accompany me on a day trip shopping in China.  I mean, what else can you do on a rainy day in Hong Kong?  So, getting up early, we set off for the MTR (Hong Kong's tube system) armed with our passports and China visas, and headed to Luohu Commercial City just across the border from Hong Kong in Shenzhen.

Luohu (or LoWu) is renowned for its wide-range of quality knock-off shoes, handbags, wallets, watches, clothes, DVDs - you name it, if it can be copied, you can find it.  With 1,700 shops spread over 5 floors it is a rabbit warren of small stalls displaying Prada sunglasses, Mulberry handbags, Louboutin heels, Beats by Dre headphones and Panerai watches.  It seems a little daunting on arrival and hard to know where to start but I had done a lot of research on Tripadvisor, blogs and through expats living here and had a good idea of where to head and how much we should be charged for each item.  If you aren't a confident negotiator you run the risk of being ripped off, but if you know that you should be paying around 1/3 of the shopkeepers opening price, it makes it easier to stick to your guns and acquire some great bargains.

As a guide we were advised that you should be paying around the following:

Baseball hat:  £3

Polo shirt:  £5

Converse shoes:  £8

Nike trainers:  £18

T shirts:  £3

AAA quality handbag:  £60

Good quality handbag:  £35

Jeans:  £14

Business shirts:  £6

Sunglasses:  £15

This was meant to be a bit of a fact finding mission but I loved the bargaining and came home laden with shoes, handbags and scarves and spent less than £100.  On our next trip we are going to get clothes copied, suits made and I will be stocking up on more handbags and shoes.... after all a girl can never have too many. 

My only word of warning to anyone unfamiliar with China - is that your shopping is accompanied by the toe-curling sound of someone loudly clearing the phlegm from their throat, followed by the splat as it lands on the floor centimetres from your feet (if you are lucky)!

Operation Make New Friends

Wednesday this week was a public holiday - 'Tuen Ng Festival' - or the Dragon Boat Festival.  At various locations around Hong Kong the thumping beat of the dragon boat drum resonates as teams compete against each other for victory.  We decided to head to Stanley to watch the races as we had heard that there was a fantastic party atmosphere there and we knew a couple of people competing.  Ignoring advice to arrive early as the beach gets completely packed, David and I spent the morning pottering around before arriving in Stanley in time for a leisurely Vietnamese lunch in Murray House.  Murray House is a stunning colonial building that was moved from Central to Stanley in 2001 after being dismantled in the 80s to make way for the Bank of China Tower.  After filling our tummies, it was time to face the masses and initiate ourselves into the Dragon Boat carnage.

It was with some relief that we arrived on a crowded - but definitely not jam-packed - beach.  We had been led to believe that we would be entering a drunken throng of young party people - not unlike Lan Kwai Fong on a Friday night.  In contrast, there were a scattering of spectators covering the full spectrum of age groups, surrounded by the countless competing teams, and not a drunkard in sight.  The teams were grouped together in their branded kit and ranged from the serious teams engaged in poker-faced warm-up routines, to the fun teams laughing merrily as they hoarsely yelled rugby-style motivational chants.  Watching the less serious teams bantering away with each other brought on a tsunami of homesickness.  Standing, just the two of us together on the beach, reminded us just how much we miss being part of a big group of friends who accept our faults and foibles and are happy to endure our British sarcasm and relentless piss-taking - and vice versa of course.

It was a real wake-up call that now that Operation Find a Job has been completed successfully, Operation Make New Friends needs to rev up a gear.  It is not that we haven't made friends in the time that we have been here, as we have, and we have been surprised at how welcoming, inclusive and supportive the established expats here have been.  However, it takes time to get to know people properly before you can open up and truly be yourself - faults and all!

With this in mind, I suggested to David that we attended an Internations social event at the W Hotel in Kowloon.  The location certainly held more appeal than the prospect of making small talk with a group of strangers.  It was obvious when I met David to set-off for the event that he was in an uncooperative mood and was going to do his best to sabotage any chance of making friends - unless they were hideously badly behaved like he intended to be.  Arriving on time - and clearly too early - we grabbed our free cocktail and stood at a table surveying the room.  We were surrounded by a disparate group of predominantly Asian women and Western men and it looked like the early stages of a school disco where everyone is eyeing up the talent but hasn't plucked up the courage to strike up conversation.  The fact that the event on the surface looked to be a singles meet-up, only fuelled David's reluctance to branch out and talk to anyone.

In short, we enjoyed a couple of over-priced glasses of average Pinot Grigio and I was approached by a lady who recognised me from the detox programme, who we spoke to for a while, along with her friends.  Once they left to go out to dinner, the room got more and more crowded with prowling singles, beginning to bravely make the first move to start up conversation.  Without a doubt we were among the tallest people in the room, yet despite our stature we started to get jostled out of the way as people pushed to get to the bar or to get to the girl they had had their eye on for the past hour.  It was at this point that David loudly announced 'They are all so small, I keep elbowing them in the head!', that I decided to give-up and head back to the sanctuary of the Mid-Levels before we upset anyone.

So the first mission of Operation Make New Friends had to be aborted, but I am not going to be defeated!  Operation Make New Friends is going to be put into action over the next two weeks as David is away travelling in Taiwan and China and I feel the operation may be more successful without my social hand grenade husband.