The American International School of Hong Kong

AIS Emblem with a rather gross looking brown trail coming from it.

I attend school at the Asian American International School here in Hong Kong. While that might sound like it offers a limited cultural experience and is filled with Americans, it is anything but. In my grade, there are three other white kids. There are quite a few Indians, and then the remainder of the school's population is Asian. The point being, I am a minority in all of my classes, and I am almost always the only white person in the room (besides the teacher). It is a strange feeling, walking in the halls and hearing no English, but it's what makes life fun, right?

Last year, when I first entered the guarded gates (so children don't escape, my guess) of AIS, I left in tears. My school is communist. Communist? American school? What? Yes, you read me correctly; Communist. How is it communist? you might be wondering. Well, they detest individualism, have crazy dress code policies (unless it's a free dress day, but I'll get to that later) and are incredibly strict over things one need not be strict over. Some of their rules include: no makeup, no nail polish, only one bracelet allowed, and you must be wearing black leather shoes with white socks (blue or black socks in the winter).

 Sometimes the school work is too much and it kills the students.

I'm truly beginning to think that the only thing American about the American International School is its curriculum. Out of all my teachers, only one of them is American (we're hard to come by in Hong Kong). The others consist of two Canadians, one French, one English, and one (half) Hong Kong person. The International is definitely represented. Even my principal is British, and the head of the school is Australian.

Even still, it's not a terrible school. If anything, it's a very immersive experience. I get people to practice my Cantonese with (whether I want to or not, though they mostly just ignore me) and I get to be a minority. There are only 79 students in my graduating class (myself included), so it is a very small school as well which leads to more intimate relations (well... sorta, it's a bit more clicky that I'd like). You get to know everyone you're graduating with, and almost everyone in the high school it seems.

 View from the second floor of the High School building.

When it's not too hot, I sit at the tables behind these people playing basketball. 

So, despite the challenges I face (being excluded from conversations because they're in Korean or Mandarin or Japanese or Cantonese at too fast a speed and having to battle for my individualism), I continue waking up at six am every weekday morning and taking a bus to a train to another train and then to another train and then walking for ten minutes (1 hour journey), effectively traveling across the three main islands of Hong Kong to get to school, and then do it all in reverse to get home again.

My first train on my way to school, Tung Chung on the Orange line, direction: Hong Kong.

View from the Orange Line train.

 Another view from the second floor.

Walking home to the metro.

In June I will be graduating in blue, white, and red, and triumphing onward into the world with the experience of being a minority and fighting for my individuality under my belt.

Rain on the basketball court at AIS