My son is in Hong Kong studying for the semester. His own idea. He’s double-majoring in Political Science and Economy and currently studying the something-something-something of city states, which is why he sought Hong Kong for his study-abroad. There aren’t too many city states. I’m very proud of him.
In a recent string of texts to me in the early morning hours of today, he shared his shopping trip and new purchase. One picture of a shop where you choose your chicken, live, then see it killed so you can take it home and cook it.
Another picture of his new steamer along with a tea kettle and a bowl of rice and veggies under straddling chopsticks, which he’s decided to use during his entire trip because he didn’t want to buy flatware for only a few months (what he said), but really because he wants to feel like he’s dome something differently in his stay abroad (my thoughts).
I think about his years spent watching me holed-up in my kitchen cooking corner wrapping up family meals about 8 in the evening every night (what can I say, we eat on European time, here). And I realize, the boy’s channeling a bit of mom in CHUK. It’s quite an experience to witness your child doing something wildly adventurous, but also something alongside that you know is a direct result of you, that they are your child, that they appreciate you, that they get you. And I love feeling like my boy gets me. A bit, at least.