洗衣館

i don't know his name, but i do know that he gave me the old price every week until i was gone, even though he let me know [in broken english that was much better than my broken chinese] two months in advance that the prices were going up. i don't know his wife's name, but i do know that she stayed 20 minutes late one day because she knew i'd be coming. and somehow i know inside that she somehow knew inside that i would have been, to put it crudely, 'totally screwed' if she hadn't done so.

i don't know if i'll ever see them again, but i do remember their collective assumption that we would meet again someday, even though i informed them on my last visit that i would be returning to the united states a few days later. i don't know if their business is still operating, but i do know that the last time i saw him, he was watching the franklin graham crusade on television quite intently while the large metal colanders spun wildly behind him. despite the shortcomings of both graham's methodology and the orthodoxy of the local churches, this gave me some hope that i may indeed see him again, though maybe not this side of eternity.

most people would probably totally disregard such a seemingly trivial individual, but when you miss a place so much that it hurts, even the most common of occurrences come rushing back to mind with totally vivid realism. the stale nearby wet market air, fresh with chopped meat and loads of locally caught seafood. the noise of a busy bus terminus. the total visual disconnection from the meaning of the area — not a rainbow in sight besides the brightly tiled pillars and walls of the train station. and, oh God, the glorious scent of those perfectly pressed and folded clothes.

yes, when you miss a place that much, you remember your laundry service with great fondness, and spend hours contemplating the welfare of its proprietors. i never knew them, but they were part of my life. they are part of my home. they are part of hong kong, and right now i am not. i'm far from home, even in my home country. in this moment, school cannot be finished quickly enough. right now, my pace of language acquisition is unthinkably unacceptable. today, i just can't wait to get back home.