In mostly one piece...

Anyone who believed I would actually make the Monday deadline that I set in my previous post is, indeed, about as blindly optimistic as a turtle training to race a jet plane.

Unless, of course, that jet plane happened to be scheduled from BWI to Newark.

After a whirlwind lesson in flight delays, a quick trip to the Windy City, and a flight in which time lost meaning, I am pleased to report that I find myself in a cozy 2-bedroom, no pillow, no blanket living quarters. Of course, I'll be better settled in by the time you read this. I write, knowing full well I have not received my WiFi login yet. It is 4 AM, but the hustle, bustle, and screaming is still alive and well outside my dorm.

Today, I met the other exchange students, and our local student ambassadors. A very friendly bunch. A New Yorker, formerly of Israel, a charming London lady, a Canadian born madam from Canada, a rather tall German gentleman, a young lady from... California, I believe... and a few others, perhaps? I've a terrible memory for trivia about a person's life, when the interesting experiences they've experienced are far more enticing.

I've not yet met my roommate. I'm told Hong Kong citizens do not sleep, according to my student ambassador, until roughly 4 AM. There are beautiful decorations in the halls. I may do more exploring later.

Perhaps the most interesting experience I had today was with a local student. While we were checked into our rooms, she brought up some of the signs around campus. She asked if we knew what the Umbrella Protest was (I quickly gathered this referred to the protests so scarcely mentioned in the US news, of Hong Kong versus China's government) and explained that the signs were from that.

She told us that the protest had lasted for a "little while, when we gathered to demonstrate displeasure to the Government's actions." And that it had "stopped". This last bit was the most curious to me, and I asked what she meant by that.

She replied that the protest stopped when they found that the government did not care about the protest. Pressed a little further, she said that the government and police were mighty, and that the police had stopped them. They used... violence.

The way she said it was so... meaningful. Like the use of violence by the police was above and beyond. In America, our protests truly have violence at their heart. Death and blood is common news. Police brutality is often the subject OF our protests, and end up being dispersed by, again, police violence.

Our ambassador talked of the art they created during the protest. I've never seen that on our news. Our protests are angry, destructive... I will grant that there is a powerful message in destruction, and where there is a message, there is the room for artistic relay.

To put it plainly, yes, a car on fire is art.

But a protest of creation and calm is just so... moving...

I've promised my dear mother that I will not involve myself in this conflict, and I don't intend to break that promise. But this conversation brought me great insight into the way that Hong Kong people communicate.

I shall likely talk of this further.