Rainy October when we arrived at Hongkong for a five-day vacation and on our third day stay, it was pa’s birthday. Ironically, upon arrival to this affluent former British colony, pa got sick. Ma and pa quarantined themselves at the hotel for one whole day but with instant medication from my physician brother. After a quick recuperation from mild fatigue, he later enjoyed the remaining vacation days. That week the weather turned gloomy in the city. Thick gray clouds roofed the islands while showers of rain dripped over the windowpane of the classic yet modern elevating tram when we reached this breathtaking famed peak. The tram was designed elegantly to transport tourists atop Victoria Peak - acropolises for the rich and famous denizens of Hong Kong. The islands escalated beautifully with various rainbow colors that awed us. The view turned to a postcard shimmering in my sapped mind. It had eased my childlike admiration to the megacity and virtually massaged pa’s body aches, becoming therapeutic for a weakening soul. At dusk steel and glass skyscrapers and modern architectural wonders reverberated with glowing bright colors. There was magic at the harbor. Its natural beauty entwined by western and eastern cultures. The rain soaked us at the view deck sighting various shapes and sizes in the skyline and skyscrapers magnify its own uniqueness and wonder. The dancing lights of the buildings glittered. Neon lights on both sides of Hong Kong and Kowloon extendedly surprised tourists. I ought to know that time and by now I understood the slogan of HK - "The City of Life!" Here, buildings are constructed and designed with the primordial influence of feng (wind) and shui (water) to cast away bad spirits to welcome luck. This is a belief of putting things into equilibrium and harmony. Chinese people are generally superstitious. They love every single drop of rain. Having appropriated this blessing with prosperity and money. Remember shui? The next day’s tour was Ocean Park. But the couple had been arguing, especially that pa wanted to buy Chinese herbs to increase his sex hormones. For an old man seduced at enhancing his ego in bed. "No! Stop mimicking me when I say these words to you…China cures everything! Then you laugh at me! Why? Is it true when I say that medicines in China are miraculous?" pa’s arguments to ma, as I recalled. "I thought you had already the viagra," ma would instead tease him. At night my brothers and me went out to stroll in Mongkok. A night market with fake goods splendidly for sale. We shopped, haggled and bargained. As a good observer, not until that night, I’d learned that the area used to be a fusion of blacks, whites, browns and yellow people. Surrounded by enterprises, chains and bazaars. Glowing and bright billboards emblazoned with Chinese characters hanged on tall edifices. The city is alive every night! Young sultry girls ramped fashionably in soft-core attire of sophisticated sleeveless and satin fitted jeans. Malicious it may be, but as a recourse, sexy to the eyes. Lovely girls haggled too for lower prices at the stalls. A throng of shoppers made me goofy of buying many pirated items. How tempting though in my pocket. The mass wave curled the aisles of the busy streets and my brothers sought for remembrance and pasalubong (souvenir gifts). Walked here and there. Then, my adventurous feet dragged me in a hoop of shops to search for palmtop computer but I ended up at the restaurant with hot braised noodles, congee and a glass of tea. After we shopped, suddenly, I felt woozy by the mass wave. So, we rushed off from the MTR (Mass Transit Railway) and emerged from the subway, then we window-shopped again along Nathan Road at the Kowloon side. The night was still young, so we stopped at Seven Eleven convenient store where many Chinese bought and drank San Miguel beer. As a proud Filipino, I took pride for a Filipino brand going global. Gorgeous local celebrities promoted the ads of San Miguel beer here. Some of the managers of this mighty Filipino brand were even Caucasians and Chinese. Without any bias, our San Miguel beer tasted better than the green-bottled Tsingtao (I don’t know if I spelled it correctly), the local Chinese beer. FYI: there was even a huge San Miguel plant in Shenzhen (just adding ego on this Pinoy global brand). The following day families, friends, troupes and individuals congregated at the hotel lobby. The petite tourist guide head counted, checked the vouchers, explained restrictions, and replied at reactions on our trip to Guandong. Afterwards I stepped on the shuttle. Immediately I occupied the first row with Ian at my right side, just behind the Cantonese driver. Behind us were Christian and Carlo on the second row. And behind them were ma and pa on the third row. Out the window, I glimpsed the Vietnamese restaurant where we had our dinner last night and saw a cute waitress. But this time, in my daydreaming she had been cooking in the sampan. My imagination instantly lured my mind but it was interrupted by a high-pitched voice. "A friendly reminder. Avoid buying medicines when you get to Shenzhen," uttered the guide in her soft and mangled English, "they may be cheap but a lot of complaints have reached the travel agency. Let this be a secret, though," she said and otherwise the tourist guide could be kicked out from her job. Warning is a precaution. "But China cures everything," in pa’s words but we laughed at him. As the shuttle drove away everybody had taken the seats. Christian had been talkative and excited while some tourists had been attentive to the tour guide on our way to the station. After a smooth travel on the Kowloon Canton Railway (KCR) to our destination, we fell in line again upon reaching this China’s southern gateway. This time we were paired by twos – while we stood up and watched Chinese people come and go at the immigration. Unfortunately, a snake-like queue bored our zest at the stiff immigration rules. Hongkong and Shenzhen denizens abide astringent rules here even since Britain turned over the island to Mainland China in 1997. In fact, detached lanes were separately built to segregate HongKongers from Chinese Mainlanders. In a sudden haste, all of us turned obedient to the guide’s instructions when we finally crossed the Hong Kong-Shenzhen border. The perception of a Chinese communist iron-fist discipline innately prevailed in us as we stepped in to Shenzhen. We eavesdropped and chuckled at the intonation of the people here as they spoke Cantonese, the lingua franca in Guandong province. But mass wave cropped up again my sight in the new megacity. Honestly, even with sophistication apparent in this young industrialized southern city, I still saw Chinese men spit around and street children slept in sideways which were invisible in Hong Kong. Then, we started touring this 20 something year-old city. From a simple, meager fishing village, it rose up to becoming a mighty economy with spacious roads and high rise infrastructures. Though still minimal (but will continuously boom) compared to its giant capitalist neighbor HongKong. It has become China’s new experiment to catch up with capitalism. It flourished and kept on prospering. Here we smelled the scent of China. The aroma of lychee was everywhere. Up to now the place is known for this special delicacy. Every July of the year is the Lychee Festival in the city. People here are pompous of their lychee - the sweet, delightful fruits. Even ancient emperors and empresses commanded their men to harvest lychee fruits from this southern place, gifted with fine weather. The richness of its soil had been suitable also for lychee tea. For ages, this was the beauty secret of a beautiful empress (I don’t know in which dynasty) who in her old age, her youthful beauty encompassed among the thousand concubines. With that fantastic story, ladies in the tour became so interested to buying the beauty secret. Apparently part of our tour was a free acupressure – purely electric transmission (not the acupuncture with needles on it). Colossal oriental Chinese herbs and wildlife species preserved in huge bottles inside the experimental room. It aimed to broach to foreign people and launch to tourists the power of ying and yang (the balance of nature), and pa ultimately was gladdened. Midday, after trips to museum, lychee teas, laureate lunch (experts deemed that Canton cuisine is one of the best cuisines in China but what we discovered here were oily served Chinese foods - I just prayed that chefs used olive oil in cooking to appease my mind that those were indeed healthy), lychee orchard. Tired and sleepy poses in front of many grand spectacles and tourists destinations. Then we yearned for shopping before heading to a fantastic cultural show that night. Shopping never elapsed from the minds of our fellow Filipino tourists. Plenty of cheap goods were for sale in this world’s largest factory. All sorts of fake Gucci bags, Nike shoes, and etc., were found here. Carlo bargained for a pair of Nike shoes to a beautiful saleslady. As she sought a good item, suddenly, a salesman stoked her to my brother for 500 HK dollars (but he negotiated for 200 HK dollars. Perhaps the price was right). My bohemian brother was not totally surprised of the hanky-panky inside the factory. The funny thing was, the stoker even coached him where to do it if he liked the deal. Probably they could do it in the dressing room. After a while, the saleslady moaned softly as he perspired after the unlawful act. Midnight when we arrived at the immigration. A throng of visitors, of course, thousands fell in line again. Children most especially were already tired. But our brisk tourist guide from Shenzhen was restrained of entry to the border. In her kind act to accompany us to the other side’s territory and turn over us safely to her counterpart tourist guide in Hong Kong who had patiently waited us. She bid goodbye in her melancholic face when stern officers barred her. We pitied her. But nothing we could do about, not even enough for the small amount of tip given by the few of us. When we reached Hong Kong – Asia’s city that never sleeps, we were worn-out but filled with joyful recollections. At last, the twinkling lights of Asia’s New York kicked our spirits alive again.