A Tale of Two Barbies

Until last night, the last time I went to a barbecue was on the 1st of February this year.  It was a small affair - just four of us, enjoying a few beers, some good food and the view of Happy Valley from Mr and Mrs L's rooftop garden.

Mr L has a fantastic (and really quite big) barbecue and the food was excellent.  I was living the high life - quite literally, as you can see from the view.  But at that point, I was living alone in Banbury, had no visa, very little work and was, to be quite honest, not feeling great about going back home or about life or the future in general.

Last night, exactly eight months later, I went to another barbecue - a very different one.  In place of the gas-powered behemoth (which, incidentally, I secretly covet), we had some charcoal, some bricks and some wire mesh.  Instead of the view of Happy Valley, we had a view of the low-rise houses surrounding us.  In place of the spacious rooftop, there were about a dozen of us, fitting into an area about a quarter of the size.  

But now I'm living, with S, in Hong Kong, have lots of work and feel happier and more positive than I can remember feeling in years.

I'm not trying to make a point about the income disparity in Hong Kong, although it's there, if you look for it.  HK is not a perfect place but very rich people and very poor people live side by side in many big cities.  I'm not trying to make some kind of student-politics class-war point about how you don't need big barbecues and stunning views to be happy - Mr & Mrs L have worked (and continue to work) hard and no one can begrudge them what they have; given the choice, believe me, I'd take the barbie and the view.

No, my point is that if you'd asked me on 1 February to predict what I would be doing and how I would be feeling on 1 October, there is no way on earth I would ever have been correct, no matter how many guesses I had.  In the intervening months, so much has changed - much of it good, some of it deeply painful.  Some I'm happy about, some makes me cry, even now.  But none of it could I have predicted.

And that's my point, I think.  Those two barbecues bookended a period of my life during which I underwent more changes than I could possibly have imagined, which have resulted in me being - overall - the happiest I think I've ever been.  So I guess my point is that, as trite as it sounds, you never know what's around the corner.  The future isn't set in stone, there's no predetermined fate for us.  As bad as things may be at any given point, nothing stays the same forever and there is always the possibility - perhaps even the probability - that things will improve.