So when I first got here, I was ambitious. I thought I was going to be Chinese within the month. I would speak Cantonese, learn the subway system, and eat only Chinese food. This last part, I figured would make me sure to be a local at heart, if not ever in appearance. To this end, I vowed that I would not eat Western food if I could avoid it (Full disclosure: I also make this choice because a lot of the Western food here sucks, unless you’re willing to pay).
What I did not realize is that my efforts to avoid Western food would come to naught. You see, the first challenge to this goal came from kindly relatives who all take us out for meals and think the greatest measure of kindness would be to offer a Western style restaurant for my sake. One even offered to have pizza delivered. And yet I remained firm in my vow. I was not to be swayed, so I brazenly lied about liking what they ordered when they called my bluff about eating any Chinese food and served me things I would have never touched in LA.
The more serious and insidious challenge to my vow came, again, as I walked around town. I began to notice trends. Every time we walk after school lets out, the local McDonald’s is overrun with teenagers getting ice cream. Each time I walked through a Mass Transit Railway (MTR) station, I have to pass by a 7-Eleven, which I am obliged to stop at in order to refill my Octopus card. Likewise, while walking through the complex where we will live, an aunt suggested we eat at Pizza Hut and I effortlessly brushed her off, only to later go and realize that Pizza Hut in Hong Kong is an upscale Italian restaurant with good cappuccinos and aperitifs for lunch.
Like so many of my initial impressions, my vow was stupid. Hong Kong locals frequent Western food establishments like no other. I genuinely think I ate less stereotypical western food in LA than they do here. In any given day I will pass by six 7-Elevens, five KFC’s, four Circle K’s, three Pizza Huts, two Starbucks, and one Outback Steakhouse. I knew McDonald’s was everywhere, but I had no idea that my uncle’s favorite unhealthy indulgence would be KFC: he went four times one week while my aunt was away on a trip.
So, as I mentioned earlier, I broke my vow today. I ate at a Western restaurant and became more like a local.
