New York. 2015

I just want to write this article to dedicated my late uncle. I learned of his passing while I was in New York, and was unable to leave in-between my training course to go back home to pay my respects. There are not enough words to express my appreciation. You will always be remembered.

It was the evening before the day I left New York. I started from Washington Square and walked my way north along Fifth Avenue. The plan was to go back early and to start packing, but it wasn’t till I reached Rockefeller Centre and starting to feel a little tired that I thought to walk for just a few more blocks, where there’s a subway station from which I could catch a train home. But it was right there on my way to the subway station, I stumbled across this perfect looking Japanese restaurant and decided to enjoy some Japanese cuisine.

It was a small Japanese restaurant, which had a classic New York style interior design and dining environment. The cozy atmosphere somehow triggered my sense of trust, making me wonder how great the meals would be. At that moment, I desperately needed some food in my stomach to settle the tiredness.

I was shown to the second-floor seating by the waiter. After I was seated, I noticed there were four Japanese people sitting at the table to my right; two males and two females. The males were in suits and the females were wearing cocktail dresses with pearl necklaces. They gave me a simple greeting after I was seated. Between their manner of speaking to each other and the briefcases they had on the sofa, I assumed they were colleagues having some drinks after a long day of work.

The table to my left was occupied by two young and stylish-looking females. The one closest to me was an African-American girl with thick, curly hair and a fitted mini skirt. She looked absolutely stunning and in-style. The girl sitting across from her had wheat-colour skin and an Asian face. Her almond-shaped eyes, scarlet red lipstick colour, and the strong and authentic American accent all gave her away as a second-generation immigrant. There was another table slightly away from mine, closest to the staircase, which was sat at by two people, a male and a female, who looked to both be in their thirties. They were chatting in Japanese, seemingly having a rather enjoyable conversation, a whole bottle of champagne on their table. In fact, looking around the place, everyone had some kind of liquor at their tables.

I ordered myself the Dinner Special, with five courses of fresh and authentic Japanese cooking.

I truly enjoy my free and unrestrained time in New York. On account of my studies, I didn’t really have too much of it. But even with just a short time to wander around the streets, you can always find something interesting and inspiring.

While I was enjoying my dinner, maybe because of the narrow space of the restaurant, or maybe because I am an English speaker, or maybe just that the two stylish women had a louder conversation than anybody else, I put together the situation of their families and lives within a short amount of time. Apparently, they hadn’t seen each other for a long while. The last meal they had had together was five or six years prior. They met through the Asian girl’s boyfriend back then. The African-American girl has a sister in London, working at the famous department store — Selfridges. She, herself had also worked in London before. And it was also because she was going back to London the next day that they decided to see each other that night to catch up. As for the Asian girl, her mother was born in the Henan Province of China and later on got adopted by an American family in the United States.

By the way the girl talked about her mother, the mother seemed to be slightly ill, and the mother-daughter relationship had not always been easy. At the end of their conversation, I picked up that the Asian girl was currently dating someone from Israel, and had even changed her last name to a Jewish last name. Contact with her mother had fallen off, and the girl claimed to identify herself as more Jewish than any of her other identities. Yet somewhere along the lines, I could somehow overhear that the current relationship wasn’t going very well.

If it weren’t for social etiquette, I think I would have wanted to put away my meal and join their conversation. I wanted to ask the pretty Asian girl, “What happens next? And how do you plan to continue the relationship with your boyfriend?”

It isn’t really my style to describe and elaborate on the people or things happening around me in details. Yet, in that strange and unfamiliar environment, its like my antenna and the long-shutdown nerve system was suddenly triggered. Every experience of the sensation was amplified, as if I was Master Yoda with his long, large ears listening to the world. I ordered myself a glass of wine, and just let my thoughts spread while enjoying the taste of it. I wondered, ‘How could I observe a city in such detail in only few days?’ and ‘How about the city I’ve lived for six years?’

Living in London, I complained sometimes, appreciated it sometimes. Ever since I grew up and left home, London has been the place I’ve lived for the longest. It is my second home. I took everything that happened there for granted. If things go well, I might be grateful; if they don’t, I can’t stop complaining.

It reminds me of when I was little. I had careful thoughts, sensitive perceptions, and great memory. But ever since graduating from college and starting to live in London, where did my acute perception go? Even sometimes, when friends come to visit London and they can’t stop singing the city’s praises, I wonder, ‘Are we talking about the same city?’

It was six years ago, the destination of my Master’s degree programme accidentally changed from New York to London. In these six years, London has made me who I am today through a few turning points of a person’s lifetime. Although I do feel grateful, I can’t help but occasionally remember my dream of living in New York. Still now, I wonder: would I still be the same person I am if I had gone to New York instead?

(To be continued ……. )

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