God's Idea

Almost everyone said, “You’re going to be the only Black person in Hong Kong. Why are you even considering studying abroad there? I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

People thought I was crazy.

Maybe everyone is right, I thought.

I shouldn’t go off to study abroad again. What am I thinking?

I was emotionally exhausted. I had made up my mind—I wasn’t going to Hong Kong.

But I still needed to make a final decision.

I dropped to my knees, begging, looking, and hoping for a sign.

Within days, God showed me that sign.

Almost everywhere I turned, I saw something related to Hong Kong.

I really wanted to go. But I was skeptical.

So, I gave myself a deadline to decide.

On the day of my deadline, I ate at a restaurant in San Francisco I’d never been to before.

When I got my food, it came with a fortune cookie that read, “Pack your bags. You’re bound for a new destination.”

That was God speaking to me.

There are good ideas—and there are God ideas.

This was a God idea.

And just like that, I was boarding a plane for a new journey.

I vividly remember my flight. I sat between an older gentleman and a young woman.

About eight hours in, the plane started shaking. I was petrified.

I looked to my left—the young woman was crying.

Then I looked to my right—the older man was chuckling.

I was shocked by his reaction. I couldn’t find anything funny, so I gave him a confused look.

That’s when the dialogue began.

He gently reminded us, “We’re much safer in the air than we are on the roads.” He said he flew often and understood how we felt.

The young woman wiped her tears, and we began introducing ourselves.

We talked for hours. It was easy. It was comforting.

They supported my decision and assured me I’d love Hong Kong. They even gave me a list of places to visit in Asia, foods to try, and fun things to do.

I started to feel excited again.

After that 16-hour flight, though, I was hit with brutal jet lag.

I felt terrible for about a week and a half—headaches, fever, stomach aches, no sleep. I was sick as a dog.

And that’s when the doubts crept back in.

Did I make a mistake coming here? Why does everything feel off? I miss home. I have no friends. I feel completely alone.

Mentally, I checked out.

I locked myself in my dorm all day, every day.

Depressed.

My roommate would say, “Get out and do something. Don’t just let the days go by.”

You’d think that since I had already studied abroad before, I’d be more accustomed to this. Ironically, it was his first time abroad, and he was the one encouraging me.

One day, sitting alone in my dorm, I began praying.

When fear tried to silence what God had already put on my heart, I sought Him for help.

And God gave me power.

It felt like I mounted up with wings and soared.

Everything changed.

From then on, I made every day my masterpiece.

When I finally stepped out into that colorful, chaotic, fantastic city, it left me jaw-dropped.

It was nothing like I imagined—it was even better. It exceeded every expectation.

This place was unreal.

It dazzled me with surprises until the day I left.

I’ll always remember my first real outing. The energy was unforgettable.

Masses of people moved at frantic speeds. I felt invisible.

They pushed past me, closed doors in my face, didn’t say hello, didn’t make eye contact.

It was rugged. Unforgiving.

I remember feeling a peculiar kind of loneliness, surrounded by the biggest crowds I’d ever seen.

Even when I looked visibly lost, no one offered help.

The social climate was a shock.

Over time, I learned that interpersonal interaction there was rare.

For contrast—when I visited Thailand, I met some of the kindest people ever.

Different cultures. Different vibes.

Still, Hong Kong was something special.

I spent a lot of time eating. The food options were endless—everything from cheap eats to upscale gourmet.

I tried all kinds of dishes — dim sum, roasted duck, curry fish balls, pineapple buns, and egg tarts that melted in your mouth. Every bite was a new adventure.

And I shopped often.

It truly was a shopper’s paradise.

They had everything you could ever need. I quickly understood why people there are seen as so fashion-forward and well-dressed.

Beyond that, the public transportation system stood out the most.

It was clean, efficient, and, best of all, cheap.

We often took taxis, which were reasonably priced. I can still hear the drivers cheerfully shouting “Taxi, taxi!” as we piled in.

After long nights of partying, we’d always taxi home.

The nightlife was electric—alive seven days a week.

Each neighborhood had its own scene, and everything was walkable.

Because of Hong Kong’s reputation for safety, you felt comfortable going out, whether drinking at bars or even just hanging outside 7-Elevens with friends.

Funny enough, people didn’t always party inside bars—they partied in front of them.

New York may be “the city that never sleeps”, but Hong Kong moved even faster.

A New York minute was a Hong Kong second.

There was always a new place to eat, a new sight to see, a new memory to make.

It was an urban jungle—surrounded by oceans, mountains, harbors, old temples, and towering skyscrapers.

Hong Kong offers some of the most breathtaking views in the world.

It also offers one of the highest qualities of life I’ve ever seen.

At times, I felt like I was living in a dream.

I remember praying constantly for deeper, meaningful relationships—and in Hong Kong, I found them.

Some of my closest friends came from that experience.

I met people from all over the world.

It’s a cultural intersection—where East and West blend effortlessly.

The people are globally minded, thanks to their constant exposure to diversity.

It draws in ambitious professionals from every industry.

And these people became my best friends.

We hiked, we dined, we explored, we traveled to other countries. Game nights, movie nights, beaches, parties, horse races, junk boats—you name it, we did it.

We lived it up.

Sometimes I’d randomly break down in tears—from happiness.

I was so close to not coming... but God had other plans.

In hindsight, it’s funny remembering those who warned me against going—just because I’m Black.

Yes, I often got stared at.

Some tried to sneak pictures; others boldly asked.

It could be frustrating—or fascinating—depending on how you look at it.

In China, seeing someone like me isn’t common. So their curiosity made sense.

People would joke, “Malik, you should charge for photos!”

But I never did.

My skin isn’t something to hide—it’s something to celebrate.

The world needs to see it. Embrace it.

I’m in countless photos, throwing up the peace sign, smiling, owning my Blackness.

I remember during Chinese New Year, I took a photo with one family—and suddenly, I was taking dozens more with others.

When I asked “Why?”, they’d say, “We’ve never seen someone like you before.”

That’s why we need more Black men and women to travel.

This was my calling.

It was bigger than me—it was for the culture.

And I’ll never forget it.

I’ll always remember petting lions, feeding monkeys, cleaning elephants, and exploring islands in Thailand.

Riding the Bali swing, enjoying floating breakfasts, living in luxury villas, and beach-hopping in Indonesia.

Swimming in a rooftop infinity pool, seeing the Twin Towers, and hiking through Malaysia’s oldest tropical rainforest.

Gambling and partying in Macau. Visiting the Venetian. The Mandarin’s House.

Every day in Hong Kong was unforgettable.

A part of my heart will always smile when I think about that experience.

I thank everyone who played a role in it.

Until we meet again—may God bless you, as He has blessed me.