Day 2 (2/2):
Shaping “Make Believe” together.
“The 15-Year Transfer / Refactoring”
Kowloon, Hong Kong.
Itinerary

Wednesday, Aug 21, 2024
Rain 28°
Kerry Hotel, Victoria Harbour

16:30 | Peer Group Mentoring

Let’s get back to the venue, it’s time to stop playing.

I am here in vintage denim and a worn-out polo.
A mistake leads me to a room of black-suited heavyweights.
Out of place? Certainly. I move to the right circle.

Three round tables.
A sea of people hesitant to sit.
“Where should I be?” I ask.
“Your role?” the staff replies.
“Mentee.”
Suddenly, a tea menu appears. Red, green, or something else?

At the Open Source table, the air is stiff with heavy responsibility.
“Hello there,” I break the ice.
The youth share their ages. Then, my turn.
“Are you serious? I thought you were barely thirty,” they stare.
The world stops for a second.
In Japan, they guess late thirties. Here, another decade drops.
The downside? No one offers me a seat on the train. A daily routine.

Shuffle. International table: Georgia, Korea, USA, Mainland.
No Japanese. Just me.
“Who are you?” the mentor asks.
“From Tokyo. Just an infrastructure newbie with some AWS certs..”
I open my modded ThinkPad. ArchLinux, running for 20 years.
“Cool.” “Splendid.” “Sit.”
Accepted.

A community is an organization. Hard to maintain.
The focus shifts from tech to management.
Sometimes, it’s better to stay silent.
I surrender to their youthful heat for an hour.
A veteran mentor says:
“If you love this world, simply keep learning for a lifetime.”
I agree. I just want to know. The new things. The new world.
Infrastructure dissolving into the application layer—my map of the future remains unshared.

18:00 | Social Gathering

In a random booth, eyes meet.
“Where you from?”
“Tokyo.”
“Super cool,” says a guy from San Jose, CA.
The talk turns into a loose, nonsensical chatter.

He’s a smartphone geek.
I show him a photo of my Sharp’s’smartphone(Windows Mobile) from the first iPhone launch.
“Damn! We’re being fooled by the Japanese again!”
We laugh. Then I mention Pioneer’s 90s liquid crystal phones(J-PE01).
He makes cheap woofer sounds with his mouth.
“Pioneer? The loud speaker guys? Ten years ahead of us? Boss, we’re going to Japan. Now.”
The CEO, packing up the booth, joins in. Two hours of travel plans.

“I’ve forgotten business. You’re actually funny.” “An American calling me funny? How offensive!” Drunk on talk, we forget to eat. The food is gone. The CEO offers a pinch of sushi. We talk California rolls. I know California. It was the first soil I touched after leaving my country alone, desperate, in 2002. The year after the September 11 attacks.

20:00 | Closing

Two hours gone. The crowd scatters.
Dusk falls.
In Hong Kong, even the night view has a price.
The million-dollar night returns.

Google Maps says an hour’s walk through Kowloon.
I buy a McDonald’s meal, find a bus stop 10 minutes away.
It’s humid. I skip the long walk.

21:10 | Through the downtown area

A long bus route.
I watch the neon ruins from the window.
No trees. No flowers.
Something—liquid or dust—falls from the sky onto people’s heads.

Smartphone habits are different here.
No one takes photos. Especially the young women.
“Don’t take photos. Don’t get caught,” a whisper in my mind.
No one walks while staring at a screen. That’s a Japanese trait.
They hold phones horizontally, talking into microphones like speakerphones.
Earphones are rare.

21:50 | Becoming an unforgettable bond.

Back at the hotel. People like those in seedy Biohazard wander about.
I push through and close the heavy glass door.

An elevator. A young mother and her daughter appear.
“After you.”
The magnetic card reader is stubborn. She struggles.
“Which floor? Can I help?”
I slide the card for her.
“Not local… where are you from? China? Korea? Wait… Japan?”
Her face softens instantly.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming.”
A message like a plea. A shadow of 2020.
It’s a weight I cannot carry alone.
“I’m not much, but Hong Kong and Kowloon are always in my heart.”

They wave at me until the door closes, as if I were an actor from Tokyo.
Their smiles are a reward too grand for a man without a family.
May those expressions last forever.

Back in my room, I open a 15-year-old record.
A tram on Hong Kong Island.

Rush hour.
No one offered a seat to the elderly.
I stood up for an old woman.
The locals stirred. Not in English, but with softened eyes.
Surprise. Welcome.

It’s all I can do.
But that is how small things become an unforgettable bond — shaping our “Make Believe” together.

Chewing on a burger, I finish writing in an hour.
I had already drafted it during the quiet moments at the venue.
After all, I wanted to go out and play.

23:00 | Lingering Night

The last midnight.
I walk through the streets of the old Kowloon Walled City area.
Wandering long after the date has changed.

• Day 2 (1/2)
• Index
• Day 3