Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Winners 2020 | Page 11

Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2020
Lunch was the worse time. The architects and the designers, the managers and even the
building practitioners, all flooded out of their cubicles, separating into little cliques as they
jabbered away so quickly that their words sounded like nothing but the chirps of birds. I stood
there meekly, the anthem of apprehension pounding away in my chest, I didn’t know what
to do. Suddenly I had lost all my words. I raked my brains of the simplest Cantonese phrases
that I practiced in the mirror like a lunatic in the months prior, but nothing came. My sweaty
fingers tugged at my favorite cardigan which looked like a child’s pinafore next to my fellow
architect’s immaculate suits. I clenched my jaw in an act of desperation, trying to mask my
nervous fear with a cloud of strength and confidence. I stepped forward, a single word slipped
from my mouth.
“Can-” Everyone turned. Their piercing brown eyes seemed to see right through my
shaky facade; they seemed to laugh silently at me, chortling at my plea to fit in; even little
Jeanine -who reached no higher than my shoulder- seemed to smirk ever so slightly at her
partner from across the room. “Bathroom?” I continued, my words choking in my throat
as though someone had cinched a noose around it. It was the only phrase I remembered.
The balding manager with round glasses that perched atop his head smiled a little
condescendingly, like the way one would coo at a young baby, and point me down the hall.
Away they turned, and once again I was left alone in the steely office.
I missed the taste of home. The boiling Xinjiang spices that made your eyes water and
your nose run, but filled your heart with the warmest embrace. They say the Greater Bay
Area was the national centre of opportunity, with newly started up industries, not only
were employment prospects bright for fresh graduates, it also promised space and support
for entrepreneurship and innovation. It was going to be the best living environment: clean,
hi-tech, a one hour commute zone from everywhere you could possibly want to be. Though
these fantasies may be true for people with bubbling personalities and aspirations as high as
the sky, like Jeanine, it was not what I wanted. Right now, standing in the office, squinting
at the unfamiliar Traditional Chinese characters on the wall, I just wanted to be home. Even
though we were from the same country, we spoke a similar language, shared the same history,
the people of the Greater Bay Area felt alien.
I powered through the weeks to come, mindlessly burying myself in heaps and heaps
of architectural paperwork. I had learned to ignore the chuckles that would fill the office
throughout the day, the playful banter that the men in the two cubicles adjacent yelled over
me, the gnawing loneliness that consumed my joy. Until one day, one fateful day, Jeanine and
I were sent on a business trip to Guangzhou together. Alone, just the two of us. Simon wasn’t
there to fill the awkward silences with his mundane anecdotes about his breakfast; Lisa wasn’t
there either to suck out all the fun and scare us into focusing; even the stray cat that lingered
outside the office door every morning wasn’t there as a source of small talk. It was just me
-exasperated, tired, awkward- me, with the brightest ‘it-girl’ of the firm.
“Grab some food before we go?” Jeanine, pristine as usual, popped in from behind. I
looked down at myself: a plain knitted sweatshirt that fit like the ones my Nanna made and
a pair of straight-legged pants that hung a little too long. She handed me a cup of coffee, the
one with my name and cute little heart drawn next to it. “It’s homemade: gluten-free, dairy-
free, nearly all fat-free.” Jeanine laughed casually, sliding into the booth opposite me. Not
knowing what to say, I smiled forcefully, took a large gulp out of the cup; the singe of the
coffee as it burnt down my throat didn’t make it any better. As if reading my mind, Jeanine
handed me a bottle of unopened water out of thin air, “here.” Once again, Superwoman
saved the poor country girl.
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