A long time coming...

It's funny, the things that confuse us.

Last Friday, for me, it was silverware.

I spent a long weekend in the Philippines, where I met up with a college friend and her traveling companion. We spent the whole time in Manila, which is, in my opinion, a completely skippable city; if you find yourself in the Philippines, do yourself a favor and get out of the capital as fast as you can. It was a slow weekend, partly because the city is pretty difficult to get around -- the taxi drivers had to stop and ask for directions on several occasions, even when we were traveling within the same section of the city; the traffic is atrocious -- and partly because my friends were laid low by foot-and-mouth disease. It was no fun for any of us.

But sitting in a restaurant, I did have an epiphany of sorts: I have been in Hong Kong long enough for the strange to become the familiar.

When we sat down for dinner, I spent about 45 seconds looking for the chopsticks. I spent another 20 staring at the fork and spoon beside my plate, wondering what I was supposed to do with them. I did a double-take when the waitress refilled my glass. These things never happen in Hong Kong. Actually, I was amazed that we didn't have to flag down the restaurant staff. I actually told my friends, "You never get this kind of service in Hong Kong." It's true: I usually feel like I'm fighting with the waiters...

I also had to remind myself every time we crossed the street that the cars were coming from the opposite direction. And that people don't speak Cantonese. (Not that I do, either. Not really.)

It's funny the things we get used to. It's not that I never use spoons and forks these days -- but I usually use them at home (or in the office, when I bring food or grab a quiche or a salad or something). Of course, there are forks in Hong Kong restaurants -- but usually not the kind that serve Chinese (or Thai or Vietnamese) food. When I eat in a restaurant that serves Asian food, I expect chopsticks. And seeing a fork on that table in Manila threw me for a loop.

Another thing drove home the fact that I've been in Hong Kong a long time: My work visa, which is good for a year, expired yesterday. I'm back in the country legally, but as a visitor.

But this time, I'm a visitor who has an inkling of how things work around here. And that's a good feeling to have.

A friendly reminder

So, things have been a bit crazy since I got back from the Mainland last Friday. A better blogger than I would have told you all about it by now, but you're stuck with me: the girl who has barely unzipped her suitcase. What, you expected photos, already? Puh-leaze.

I'm a bit occupied at the moment fighting off a plague of ants.

The one thing I did get accomplished this week: I voted. I didn't fashion a voting booth in my shower using a pirate flag like somebody I know, but I did sit at my kitchen table and fill in (most) of the bubbles. And then I took my ballot to the nearest FedEx office, since they're mailing absentee ballots of overseas voters for free.

The friendly reminder of the title: Go vote. If I (and several other Americans I know) can do it from halfway around the world, you can do it from there.

Even if FedEx isn't around to send in your ballot for you.

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Also, if two-plus years of campaigning haven't gotten you in the election spirit, this will. I'm looking forward to seeing what the next 6 days bring.