Cheung Chau, Hong Kong: A Trip Back to 1992

Once upon a time, I lived on an island called Cheung Chau. An hour away from Hong Kong Island by ferry, Cheung Chau was my home from 1992 to 1996 - a walkable island with no vehicular traffic, shaped like a dumbbell. Today marks my first trip back.
Arriving at the ferry terminal, I hand over exact change for the ticket, too embarrassed to attempt to use Cantonese, which I used to speak fluently. I decide to take "ordinary class", since it is what I used to take with my family. (I later pay the extra HKD$7.50 for "deluxe class" on the trip back, wanting the panoramic views.) The ferry has a handful of passengers, some newspapers, and boxes of fruit, since the island relies on the ferry company for freight service.
As I sit on the ferry, I realize that there's no set precedent to the journey that I am about to undertake. There are books on backpacking Europe, taking working holidays, moving to new places, and attending weddings. The same can't be said about visiting an island that symbolizes your childhood, yet hasn't been visited in 15 years.
An hour later, disembarking the ferry, I see a McDonald's and can't help but giggle. On monthly family outings to Hong Kong Island, McDonald's would be the special treat, since it wasn't available on our island. Also new are some bed and breakfast ads and some clothing stores that make the island of my childhood look like it's about to transform itself into Manly Beach.
Instinctively, I walk toward the top of the hill, "back home". Unfortunately, I can't remember which laneway to take! I figure out that it's probably the most crowded laneway. A girl appears with the uniform of my old school. A sign says "Peak Road". I'm definitely headed in the right direction.
It takes me about 10 minutes to get to the top of the hill - a hike that lasts 30 minutes in my memory. Our first apartment appears. After another short trek, I pass the playground where I used to play tic-tac-toe. The tic-tac-toe board has been replaced by a matching game, with the words China, Australia, and Africa on one side, and the images of a giraffe, a kangaroo, and a panda on the other side. I think I got the better end of the stick.
Next to the playground is the running track. I take a nostalgic walk around it. Then, it's a short walk to the seminary where my dad taught. It appears that the whole seminary is headed to the chapel. After passing our last apartment, I decide to ignore the "no trespassing" sign and head onto the campus. I pass the homes of old friends, our beloved basketball court, and the dorms. What's missing? The stray dogs. Come to think of it, the dog poop has mostly disappeared from the island.
Continuing the walk toward my old school, I become incredibly grateful at the opportunity to live on this island for 4 years. It was a place where I could roam freely, explore, treat my home like a giant maze.
My old school has roughly tripled in size, thanks to a new multi-story classroom building to complement the single-story building of my childhood. I sit on a bench next to the school, preparing to take a picture. A student, perhaps 10 years old, tries to open the gate, fails, and begs me for help. Unable to speak his language, all I can do is gesture to the store, hoping that he will ask someone else for help. If only he knew that I used to go to that school...he'd probably think that the educational system has failed miserably.
After some more treks on familiar routes, I do what I have done too many times on that island, and in many of the world's great cities - I got lost on purpose, wandering aimlessly. It's a joy to feel like a kid again.