365: A Vow

I asked for a sign on my trip to the immigration office. A white dove. Naturally, the whole 45 minutes on the upper deck of the bus, I was wide-eyed, on the lookout for a bird that was probably busy doing a day job in a wedding chapel somewhere.

The first trip hit a snag which could have been avoided if Dodeng Daga simply trusted my visa-processing skills. I have done this twice, after all. When the immigration officer interviewed me, I was a syllable away from being called stupid because of the inconsistent document that I gave them. Said document was the genius plan of Dodeng Daga who, while not really a rat, certainly resembles and thinks like the vermin.

I was given an appointment schedule for the 29th of July, just a couple of days before my visa expires. Surely it was not the sign I was hoping for. The walk out of the immigration office was a long one. I felt lost and rejected even though there hasn't been a decision yet. Still, a landslide of questions were upon me. I dodged the people passing by like a ball in a pinball machine. Each time I hit a passerby, BING!--a thought, ZING!--an idea, TOINK!--a worry. What if I won't be extended? What if I had to leave within two days? What if I can't find another job soon enough? Where should I go next?

With all those thoughts running through my brain, I didn't notice an old friend approach my side. It was Adam. Perfect. I needed a hug. He said two words: "hello" and "wait". He traded me for a phone call so, after ten minutes, I waved goodbye and grabbed some comfort food at 7-11.

By then the afternoon was just making everyone in Wan Chai sticky, irritable and thirsty. I wasn't spared of course as I itched to get on the bus. I savored the trip back home thinking it might be one of the last long bus rides I'll ever have in Hong Kong.

When I got home I can only think of one relief--a shower. And there in my small bathroom, the sign has been sitting there all along. A new bar of white Dove soap. I know we tend to force patterns and meanings into our lives but whether or not it's the sign that I was looking for, it was just what I needed at that moment. I soaped away the sweat, washed away the tears and relieved my tired spirit.

A week later and with a renewed sense of hope, I headed back to the immigration and got my visa for another year.

I had promised a few things to that imaginary dove. And keeping this blog up and running again for at least another year was just one of them. Let the countdown begin.

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