Thereโs something to be said for getting it wrong without the slightest intention. We call it miscommunication. Thereโs a lot to be said for living in Hong Kong as an expat and never quite getting it right. Nobody shall be blamed โ itโs just an occupational hazard of living in this melting pot of cultures. I know it because Iโve lived it for seven years.
Getting it wrong
My first instance of getting it wrong came in the form of the โexโ. At the time, about six years ago, I was running my own fitness classes when a local restaurant owner, Min, mentioned she was keen to join us gals; of course, I invited her along. My โBodyburnโ routines, taken outdoors with soothing sea breezes, were a regular event. Min was keen to shake up her yoga for something more gruelling and weight-shedding. My class was exactly that.
I often invite women to my classes. Sometimes they follow through; sometimes they donโt. I know that finding time for an hour of self indulgence in the form of squats, lunges, tricep dips and a good deal of isometric torture in the evening isnโt always easy. It takes a great deal of courage and a distorted sense of objectivity to do this stuff.
But back to the โexโ. I received a text one night and I guess the timing wasnโt great. Iโd just broken up with a man who lived on Lantau Island and flew in the air above Lantau Island a lot. The Christmas wreath on the door of his apartment all year round should have indicated to me his need to celebrate Christmas with many women all year round, but I fell out of that short relationship feeling crushed. Infidelity is a sharp wound.
Then came the text: โI want to have ex with youโ โ with the sign-off, โMannyโ. According to my phone, the text was sent from the restaurant where I regularly order satay chicken. It must have been a chef or waiter whoโd sent it.
Who was this person? How dare he speak to me like that and assume I want a casual liaison? Did I look like a floozy โ the type of woman in need of instant gratification and a text to that affect? I was fuming. And, because I was hurting after having my boyfriend cheat on me, I immediately went on the attack. I replied to the text with: โWho are you? How dare you contact me! And how did you get my number? Do not contact me again or Iโm coming to get an apology from you in public.โ
Epiphany
It was not until midnight when I was out with friends and sharing this story that I had my epiphany.ย โMannyโย must be the restaurant owner โ who I knew as โMinโ. And all she was doing was trying to convey her desire to attend my Bodyburn class… Iโd sent her an abusive text after sheโd used โexโ in a sentence that Iโd interpreted wrongly, mainly because of the syntax and definitely because of a language barrier. How embarrassing. Like really embarrassing.
The very next day, I went for Eggs Benedict in the restaurant and Min was there, with a smile on her face. I approached her without hesitation and apologised. I donโt think she really knew what I was on about, and sheโll probably never realise that her perfectly normal request for exercise, signing off with a name I didnโt know she used, made me mistake her for someone asking me for sex. But then, if youโd received a similar text signed off with what could be a manโs name, donโt you think itโd be easy to misinterpret?
Maybe; maybe not. Itโs Hong Kong. Itโs also all about timing and how you see the world from your inner world. Itโs easy to get it wrong without even trying, and especially after a break-up. The moral of the story is: never assume; just never assume!
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This article first appeared in the Spring 2020 issue of Expat Living magazine. Subscribe now so you never miss an issue.
