It’s not about where you are, but who you’re with.

Of the four friends I made this summer I only spoke to two of them.

The woman at the grocery store, the man at the bottom of the elevator, Lee, and Nicole — they all made my summer what it was. They made Hong Kong home.

I thought home and friendship were characterised by shared language, culture, values, preferences, pasts. This summer I learned absolutely none of those things are necessary.

The woman in the grocery store and I shared mere moment interactions but she was always so happy. After working a 16 hour shift — that commitment to being content is admirable and appreciating that in her made her a friend I was happy to share smiles with.

The man who sat at the bottom of the elevator of our apartment was there every day before I left for work until well after I came home. I know precisely three things about him: he has one (or several of the same) striped shirt(s), he cooks all day but I have never seen him eat, and he is only ever smiling. My curiosity of him and his life represents the curiosity I want to keep for everything and everyone I interact with.

I couldn’t communicate with these two beyond mere gestures but still they represent two of the most important things this summer instilled in me: be happy, be curious.

Lee was an unlikely friend that I am so happy to have made. Through a convoluted set of introductions and long-passed lives, we met. We spent many hours of this summer speaking. The more we spoke the more Lee had to say and the more confident she was to say it. When we first met she was incredibly self-conscious of her (nearly perfect) english. I’ve learned mastery of language isn’t grammar, it’s communication, and by that definition Lee certainly has mastered english — I always knew what she meant. Watching her get more confident from speaking with Nicole and I was wonderful and exploring Hong Kong with a local was a privilege.

Lee works in accounting, I studied finance, we’ve now both lived in Hong Kong, we’ve both maintained relationships overseas and timezones. On paper we have lots in common but none of those things have anything to do with why it was such a pleasure to spend time together. Lee was just a joy. She is the most kind, generous, true person I have ever met. She describes her life as “simple” but that doesn’t do it justice. Her life is well prioritised. The simplicity Lee demands of her life is something I will forever strive for. She has who and what she needs and nothing more. She is uncompromising with her own growth — a quality I greatly admire hope to replicate in my own life.

In increasing degree of proximity, Nicole — Nicole was more than a likely friend, she and I might have been sisters in a past life. An overwhelming majority of the value I gained from this summer was living with her. Our friendship was completely serendipitous and a coincidence I will forever be grateful for. There was no single moment where we decided we’d be friends, or even that we’d like each other, we just were and we just did (mostly). We argued — we argued not for hours — for days, weeks, for the entire three months we were together — and it was awesome. It was the most productive, constructive, critical view I have ever had of life and myself. It catalysed the kind of growth that would take years of reflection.

What Nicole and I had isn’t replicable. We got incredibly lucky to have each other. But the benefits of what we had and our process for those benefits is. This summer I learned to advocate, but only when necessary, and to listen as much as possible. I learned to hypothesise and test beliefs and assumptions the same way I would anything empirical. I learned … the list is endless, but what I’ll take with me most is the importance of and ability to argue really really constructively. I’ve long been critical of myself, and of the world, and of other people, but I think this summer I finally learned how to address those critiques, how to be critical of my thoughts, of others’ thoughts, of the status quo and to play out both arguments in my head — for and against — to come to some sort of resolve. We played devil’s advocate for each other and I needed that to really learn how to think.

This summer I learned that I know nothing at all about anything or anyone; and that knowing is completely unnecessary. What’s needed is to be constructively critical and thoughtful — I think I’m getting a lot better at that.