Last week I was absolutely stressed out about how to spend
my days in Hong Kong. I hadn’t originally intended to begin my Watson project
in the so-called ‘Pearl of the Orient,’ yet I suddenly found myself here with
an apartment already leased for a month and nothing to do. While I may have
termed myself ‘funemployed’ mere days ago, I am proud to announce that my
status has shifted to ‘fun-employed’ (i.e. occupied in enjoyable ways). I would
go so far as to declare that I am nearly too busy—but only in the best of ways.
 |
| Island barbecue! |
I have been amazed at the number of people I have met in
just two weeks—each one with his or her own fascinating story to tell, and
interest in helping me with my project in some way. For instance, I have been
assisting Alexis, the composer in Hong Kong, with her work, and so delighted
that she invited me to a barbeque she hosted at her home on one of Hong Kong’s
outlying islands. The first person I met there, Paiyu, is a Chinese linguist,
and as soon as I told him that I have a special interest in as well as previous
experience studying Chinese linguistics, he was eager to tell me more about his
work, offer to introduce me to other prominent linguists in Hong Kong, and
invite me to go out for tea (which I learned last summer actually means go out
for a Chinese food feast). He is one of a dozen people in the world who speaks
Tangusic languages, and he’s also a Mandarin Chinese teacher, so I’m thinking of
soliciting him for language lessons for my remaining time in Hong Kong. The
second person I met was Gloria, a graphic designer with an incredibly outgoing
personality and eye for style. She wrote to me a few days after the barbecue,
and I had an incredible afternoon hanging out with her in her gorgeous
self-designed studio apartment (which has been featured in the newspapers
here). She showed me her work, and is bringing me to her friend’s art gallery
party in a few days—the friend being someone who is extremely well-connected to
the Indonesian music scene and regularly brings musicians to perform in Hong Kong.
 |
| Lamma Island |
 |
| Taking the ferry home from 'work' |
  |
| Hong Kong Island at dusk |
In the meantime, beyond going to intensive Mandarin tutoring
a few times a week and helping out Alexis with her work (as well as playing her
own music with her!) I’ve also taken on a new role helping out at the
Journalism and Media Studies Centre at Hong Kong University. Thanks to a very
close friend with ties to the JMSC, I was able to meet a few of the professors
and staff there. After offering to lend a hand in any way I could, I’ve found
myself writing press releases for them, researching for their Open Data
initiative, and creating an English language press kit for the newest film by
an Oscar Award-winning documentary filmmaker in residence at the JMSC.
These are just a few of the dozens of people I’ve met in
this short time, and I can but only feel incredibly lucky. That said, it’s not
just luck—I’ve been making huge efforts to get out of my apartment and meet
people, whether through going to badminton meet-up groups or reaching out to
as-of-yet unknown friends of friends (of friends…) I have been wondering
whether this all has the forces of destiny colliding in incredibly auspicious
ways, or perhaps just a product of how dense and bustling Hong Kong is. I’d
like to think that a significant factor contributing to my ‘success’ is being
willing to be open to these chance encounters with new people. School has
always provided me with a built-in network of peers up to this point, so I
never have had to look very hard to find friends, colleagues, and confidants.
Now, I’m starting from scratch, and in a city this big no one is going to reach
out of his or her own volition. My hope is that by practicing making
connections now in a very connected place, even when I travel to more remote
places, I’ll already be comfortable asking for help and reaching out to new
people.
And now! perhaps the most exciting and Watson-relevant part
of all—I have officially started erhu
(Chinese fiddle) lessons, and am the eager renter of my very own erhu! Speaking of taking risks and
reaching out: taking erhu lessons was
never part of my original Watson year plan, but when I realized I was in Hong
Kong with nothing to do a little over a week ago, I figured the time was ripe
to launch into trying out a new musical style. I have listened to erhu music for a few years now, and
actually really love the sound—and through a little research I discovered it is
tuned in fifths, exactly like a violin. So delving into the world of erhu was basically a no-brainer. Finding
a teacher was a little trickier—Alexis, who has been taking lessons for five
years now, asked her own teacher but didn’t get a response. So, after googling
“erhu teacher Hong Kong” in both English and Chinese, I came up with a
shortlist of options. I decided to start first with the music school that is a
two-minute walk from my apartment—small steps, you know? Not really sure what
to say, I braced myself for impending awkwardness and walked into the music
school, which is tucked away in a dilapidated commercial building bookended by
hair salons. A teacher poked her head out a practice room, where a pint-sized
violinist scratched away at Suzuki Book 1 repertoire. “Hi, uh, I’m a violinist,
and I just graduated college in the U.S. and I’m here in Hong Kong now working
on a project to study different music cultures, and I wanted to take erhu lessons,” I babbled. “Is that possible?”
“You are a violinist…you are a violin teacher?” Clearly my
first attempt had fallen short.
“Uh, no, I wanted to take music lessons, on the èrhú!” I emphasized my tones.
“Oh, you want to take èrhú lessons!
Ok, ok! We have an èrhú teacher,” She
handed me a brochure with a list of prices, which I thanked her for profusely
and pocketed, promising to think about it and come back. I deliberated on the
pros and cons; I wished I could take a lesson with all of my potential erhu teachers before I committed—how
could I know whether I would like any of them, or that they were any good?—but
I had had a positive feeling from that brief interaction, and also figured that
a) I didn’t need the best, most advanced teacher to learn the basics, and b) if
he/she was terrible, I could find a new teacher. (Also, it is hard to beat the
commute.) Ultimately, I justified to myself, it was a low-risk investment in a
low-risk investment.
So, a few days ago, I went back to the school and signed up for four
lessons sight-unseen with one “Mr. Yip.” I pictured a crusty old man who was
born clutching the two-stringed fiddle; spoke Cantonese, basic Mandarin at
best, and of course no English; and a harsh disciplinarian with penchant for
rapping students over the head at any missed note. Thus, I was pleasantly
surprised to discover Mr. Yip, or Nick, as he introduced himself, is a cheery
30-something-year-old who has been incredibly patient, thorough, and generous
in my lessons so far. For one, I signed up for 45-minute lessons—so far, each
one has exceeded two hours! And to be clear, much of that time is spent with
him watching me bow long open notes repeatedly, correcting my bow hold and
technique, and then doing it again. The man has the patience of a saint. That
said, I think he’s excited that I’m coming into the lessons with 15 years of
violin technique and music experience—I have a sense of intonation and
musicality that I can bring (if not currently deliver). Much of the technique
does translate, though certain elements, such as the bow hold, are radically
different and going to take some practice for me to grasp. There are so many
things, like the swooping slides into and between notes, that are completely
foreign to music I have played before. I told him, “It’s been a long time since
I sounded this bad.” Before now I was primarily practicing solo Bach sonatas
and partitas on the violin, so now that I’m practicing erhu I’m sure my neighbors are wondering if I developed
instrumental amnesia and forgot how to play. I will brag, though, that in my
second lesson, he taught me a piece that he purportedly teaches most students
at least three months after they have started learning the instrument—so I
think that if I stick with it, I could definitely make some real progress!
This is the piece I am currently working on (played far beyond my current abilities)
In any case, I’m having a blast. I’m still not sure what future
holds, but for now I’ve got a terrific gig meeting interesting people, toting
multiple stringed instruments onto island ferries, and terrorizing the
neighbors, so I’m just going to relish it.
