Sunday morning, I arrived in Hong Kong, and I was in a mood.

It had been over 45 days since I’d had a room to myself, tasted Jif peanut butter, or used a computer. I was burnt out from traveling and wanted to cross my arms, stomp my foot and pout. More than that, I wanted to go home. I had one more night in Asia, and was heading home on Monday afternoon.

Or so I thought.

I took a deep breath. “One more day of traveling,” I told myself. “Then two days to travel home.”

I arrived in Hong Kong knowing that there had been protests across the city and in the airport and saw the aftermath at the arrivals area. A few protesters were there handing out informational pamphlets and holding posters. In fact, they wanted to have conversations to educate travelers about why what they were protesting was important. I had a couple of quick conversations and went on my way to find the bus and head into town.

What was Hong Kong like during the protests?

Hong Kong was so lovely! I spent the day with my Couch Surfing host taking the bus up Mount Victoria and walking around the harbor. We took ferries and had a little photo shoot and lovely conversations. We cooked dinner in his home and heard some shouting outside. He lives in an important tourism area, and we saw a parade of a few hundred protesters saying their piece. The police came and monitored the situation, and it was all over within an hour.

Later on, I went out alone to go see the harbor by night. There were no remnants of a protest on the street and I felt completely safe. Life in Hong Kong had resumed.

My couch host told me that the protests were planned to be in one of three areas the next morning, but that all of them would likely impact my bus to the airport due to crowds.

Heading to the Airport

I had an 8 pm flight and decided to leave his place at 3- I figured it would take an hour to get to the airport but left plenty of extra time for issues. I arrived at the airport at 4 pm to be greeted by crowds of people chanting. They held up signs, and they held up traffic. It was announced while we were still on the bus that the airport was being shut down, and that every flight after 4 pm was canceled.

The protestors had snacks, took naps, chanted, and gave information to the public. Their words are being heard worldwide as they try to hold on to the strings of their democracy.

And me? I got back on the same bus and went back to the city.

My couch host was amazing and let me go back to his place even though he was at work. I called everyone I could think of to figure out my flight situation – the booking site didn’t have the flight registered as cancelled yet, my credit card told me I could file a claim later, the US consulate was closed for the day, and the airline’s website and phone systems had crashed.

I was tired, I wanted peanut butter and my own bed and to stomp my foot and just. be. home. But here I was, spending another night in a city that I wouldn’t have otherwise chosen to visit, sitting on a couch trying to find the cheapest way home.

Yes, cheapest. I was never in danger. The protests are controlled and most of the violence is coming from the law enforcement, not the protestors. I was nowhere near either of them. Price took precedent over safety, because safety wasn’t a concern as long as I wasn’t on the front lines of a protest.

Getting Home

Long story short, I purchased a ticket from HKG –> ORD –> AUS and got into Austin only a half an hour after I would have landed in Dallas had my original flight stayed the same. I was able to get a full refund on my canceled ticket and took the hit on my new ticket.

I went to the airport the following morning a few hours before my flight and got through security and customs without issue. When I landed in Chicago, I had myriad messages telling me that the protests had gotten worse and shut down the airport again. Thank GOODNESS I got out of there. I was ready to be home.

So here I am in Austin, still with the same 30L backpack and 8 pairs of underwear. My beautiful friend Brittany and I are hanging out for a few days before I head to Dallas by bus on Friday.

I Must Be Grateful

I’m grateful that the people of Hong Kong are being heard. I am grateful that I could get a refund on my original ticket. I’m grateful for my couch host being so incredibly gracious, and for my credit card company insuring my travels so that some of the additional expenses are covered by insurance. Of course, I’m grateful for all of the people that reached out offering to help me find alternate ways out of Hong Kong, and some even offered their points or other monetary means to help. I’m grateful that I am in a position where this was an inconvenience rather than a safety issue, and I’m grateful to be sitting in a coffee shop in Austin, drinking American coffee and eating Jif.

The Bottom Line

If you take nothing else away, take this: Hong Kong citizens are fighting for democracy. What was an inconvenience to me is detrimental to their voice. They are being painted as terrorists by one of the biggest governments in the world for standing up for their fundamental freedoms and ability to uphold their own constitution. Their cultural identity is being threatened. When you watch the news, know that the demonstrators are millions of peaceful people resisting communism and being met with police brutality and China’s heavy hand.