There is no place in the world with more emotion embedded in the landscape for Sean than in the former Portuguese colony of Macau: every small alley, tea shop, and pastel building seems to connect to some memory of time spent there in the probably forty visits he has made across nearly a quarter century.  The schizophrenia of Macau — in which monstrous casinos built on land newly reclaimed from the sea obscure an old town of narrow congested lanes and a poetic rhythm — long made it feel like a secret love, unappreciated by most.  When Sean lived in Hong Kong in early- to mid-1990s, Macau was his sanctuary and in the city’s small cafes, writing in his journals and sipping a macchiato, he became a familiar presence among the long-mixed Eurasian community of Macanese.  Macau has a true hybrid culture, born of 500 years of Portuguese rule, where a Buddhist temple will sit at the intersection of streets named for Don Quixote and Sancho Panca.  But the Eurasian community was dispersed by the end of Portuguese rule in 1999 and Macau, though still loved, plays a different and less urgent role in Sean’s life now.

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