I'm going to Hong Kong

I'm going to travel 16 hours that way (points West) this Saturday, August 23rd and am scheduled to return December 23rd. That's four months in Hong Kong. While on that side of the planet, I hope to travel through China, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand and maybe even India, Egypt, or Israel. These travels outside of Hong Kong will depend on research, time, money, and impending xenophobia--er, homesickness.

While I'm in Hong Kong, I will be studying at Lingnan University. Lingnan is a small, liberal arts university located in the Tuen Mun district, which is part of the New Territories. My classes will be in English, as English is one of the official languages of Hong Kong. The English influence is because Hong Kong was under British rule until 1997, when it was handed back to China. It is now a Special Administrative Region and functions under China as "one country, two separate systems." It is supposed to be a separate system until about 2047. The other main language is Cantonese. I've learned a little basic Cantonese (that is, "Gno ng sihk tang Gwong Dung Waa" or "I can not understand Cantonese"). 

I suppose it would be wise to take a course in Cantonese while in Hong Kong. However, I don't want to burden myself with too much academia while in a different country. Also, I'm not sure I have any intent to use Cantonese in a career. Of coarse, learning a language must be wonderful for the brain. This would be my argument for registering to learn a language where the letter "a" could theoretically mean nine different things. I guess this isn't much different than the English language at times. In fact, I'm guessing these nine concrete tones would prevent much of the difficult ambiguity, sarcasm, and double-meaning someone deals with when learning English or other languages. Now all I have to do is master the low-falling, very low level tone.

One thing that I am curious to find out about Cantonese, as I've mentioned to a few of you, is how people adhere to the differing tones when expressing emotion. If each tone must coincide with the spoken word, will I know I'm being scolded for spitting on the sidewalk, or just assume the Cantonese-speaker complimented the distance of my hawked lugi? I'm guessing I'll figure it out. I don't think Sapir or Whorf would argue that a language turns people into emotionless robots or an incomprehensible cross-cultural nightmare like these Russians playing chess.

I plan to discover much about the mysteries surrounding Hong Kong and will share them all with you on this blog. Pictures, addresses, and other fun stuff will come soon!