I Left My Heart In...

As much as this blog is about my life in Wrangell, Alaska, it’ll just as much become about my life not in Hong Kong. As I’ve already done, I’ll draw inspiration from comparisons, what Wrangell lacks and how Wrangell, in other ways, somehow makes up for these losses. Sometimes I’ll grapple to find these ways.

Something I truly miss about Hong Kong is the dancing. I didn’t take advantage of it enough at all while I was there – to think I had ample opportunity, essentially every night of the week if I wanted, to be in a room or rooms full of people dancing. I miss those nights at Amnesia, Jewel or Yumla, or more embarrassing, those nights at Insomnia, Venue, or Mes Amis where we lost ourselves and didn’t care how we looked, who was looking. As girly or corny as it sounds, we just wanted to dance. That energy is lost in Wrangell. Instead I find in people the passion for hunting moose, fishing, walking one’s dog.

That’s not to say that if people in Wrangell were transported and placed in a dark room full of dancing people, they wouldn’t join in. Obviously, they’ve been in bigger cities, bigger bars or clubs in bigger cities, where dancing has taken place. I wonder if during weekend nights in Wrangell, there’s this widespread craving or mass desire to dance. Maybe even someone in their fishing boat right now thinking these exact thoughts? Perhaps? Or is it just me?

When I leave Wrangell, will I miss breathing in the clean, cold air as much as I now miss breathing in the hot, humid air of Hong Kong? That’s how it works, isn’t it? One home is replaced by another, one sentiment for a new one? I can just almost feel it now – what it was like to step out of an over-airconditioned building onto the street and feel the air cling to you. I love that. The heavy, drenched air.