Tai O
Whilst exploring the quaint fishing village that has managed
to retain its charm and ethnicity throughout the modernization of Hong Kong, we
stumbled upon a small café. Located on stilts in ‘Asian Venice’ as we called
it, we were enchanted from the first moment we stepped inside. Guest books were
littered around the tables, with messgaes and stories shared by people stopping
by to this little piece of tranqulity from around the globe. Before departing,
Julia, the café’s owner was kind enough to share with us her story.
The youngest of nine siblings, Julia grew up a native of Tai
O. Her older bothers chose to forego their chance at a formal education for the
sake of the youngsters in the family, and the hope that they would have a
chance at a brighter future. Given the opportunity, Julia up and left the
village and moved to Hong Kong. Upon completing her eduation and living in
England for years, Julia returned to Tai O.
As she describes it, she always had a dream, from a very
young age. “I want to own a café by the sea or by a river – I want to be able
to thank my brothers for their sacrifice for me”. Sitting with the sea rippling
beneath the planks of wood we sat, it was hard to think of how much closer to
the sea she could have located her café. We were perched on it! Fishes swam
beneath us. She told us “The one piece of advice I have for everyone that comes
to my café around your ages – in their twenties – is that dreams do come true. Mine did”
When we asked her about her return to Hong Kong, she
explained the new perspective she had gained following her separation from it.
“I watched the sunset right here”, she motioned towards the horizon behind us
“for five nights in a row. Then I fell in love. And I decided to start my café
here.”
Strolling through Tai O Market, we stopped for some local
street food delicacies. A personal favourite of my best friend and I is Siu
Mai, and lowenbehold, the stall we stumbled upon was none other than one
visited by the legendary Ip Man himself.
Time really did stand still for the couple of hours we were
able to enjoy watching fishermen and locals living what is a typical ‘day in
the life’. Where water in the sink goes straight down the drain and into the
sea below. Where the only two modes of transportation are boat and bike. Where
the smell of dried fish no longer seems unpleasantly pungent but rather
symbolic of how much nature is embraced. The friendly smiles, the excited
praise when we tried our best to haggle in Cantonese and the kindness of
strangers made it seem like everybody in Tai O was in a bubble. A secret club
of which kindness was the currency.
As I waited for the bus home, I realized I had hardly
checked my phone all day.
Tai O, thank you.
