I started writing the name of the city where I bought my books inside the cover, under my name, as a way of showing off my travels. The habit stuck. Most of my books bought after 2012 are marked with either “Jackson, MS”— the city where I attended college or “San Antonio, Texas”—the city I’ve lived the majority of my life. My collection is sprinkled with a few other cities—Kolding, Denmark, where I bought a copy of Hamlet, in Danish, Basel, Switzerland, with a vintage copy of Grimm’s, and among my other copies, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, bought in Hong Kong.
Summer 2013. I packed my life into a forty-pound suitcase for the summer and went to live with thirty something other college students in Hong Kong, teaching High School English. I wanted to “be in the moment” while I was there and only packed one book with me. Yes, life in Hong Kong was extremely busy. We often got up to catch our buses and trains before six in the morning and most of us didn’t return to our dorms until at least midnight. I loved how busy I was that summer. I loved spending time with new friends, exploring the city, eating at a different restaurant every night, but it was exhausting. I would arrive at my dorm too wound up to sleep, so I would read. I’d already finished my only book by the end of the first week of teaching. I borrowed books from others in my dorm, but I felt strange constantly asking to borrow books.
Near the end of my teaching term, three girls from another class invited me and another teacher to accompany them to a book fair on Wan Chai. The ferry ride from our train was short but enough to make me feel a bit seasick. Then we arrived at the Golden Bauhinia Square—the golden statue guarding the Hong Kong Convention and Exposition Center. The central room was filled with book stands and eager book shoppers.
Unfortunately for me, few of the books were in English, but I am always in the mood to simply browse books. I loved seeing the Cantonese covers of familiar books. Magazines were popular at the book fair and I had been wanting to buy several issues of my favorite magazines, but I had a budget and was determined to find one book I could read. Then, just as it was about time for us to catch our train, I found the Bloomsbury booth. Situated at the front of the booth, were the newly released Harry Potter covers in paperback. I picked up Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,knowing I had two copies at home already, looked at the price tag, and marched over to the cashier. I paid 90 Hong Kong dollars, or around $11.50 USD.
I savored the book over my remaining weeks in Hong Kong. I read it as slowly as I could bear. Near the end of my summer in Hong Kong, I grew weary of teaching. My days were long and I felt my anxiety like a black cloud. I needed my little escape into Harry’s world, even just one chapter at a time. When it was time to go home, my fifteen-hour flight was delayed and I missed my flight home. I was stuck in the Dallas airport, hungry, broke, and jetlagged. I had nothing I could do until my new flight was arranged but open to page one and begin again.
The Bloomsbury copy features Harry’s patronus on the front, a stag standing between the demeantors and the reader. It’s a story for another time, but during this same trip to Hong Kong/China, my small teaching group discussed what it means to stand in the gap for someone, to be their guardian and protector. Harry’s stag patronus was his protector and guardian from the demeantors who steal joy and every good feeling.
When I was feeling lonely, afraid, and worn thin, I bought a copy of a familiar book. I created a safe space for myself, protected from my worries. This copy will be in my collection until I no longer have any books. Which is to say, I’ll always have my HK copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkban.