第8章 Discovering Hong Kong

Despite Hong Kong's high density of population and narrow streets, the city was quite clean but what made me jump was people clearing their throat behind me and spitting on the street. I recalled a government campaign on TV against littering and spitting. Since then this has changed a lot and it is now very rare to see people spitting on the street.

People were dressed more casually than in France. It was summer and a lot of them were wearing shorts and flip-flops. French were more fashion-conscious even when they went to their local bakery to buy bread in the morning; self-conscious of what others might say, they liked to dress well. Working women and men were mostly dressed in black suits. I found out that Hong Kong women were conservative and did not like to expose too much skin. There were mixed couples but at that time Chinese men married with gweipos were not as common as gweilos married to Chinese women.

I had seen photos of bamboo scaffolding in the encyclopaedia, the Million[11], when I was small and it was hard to believe that this old method was still in use in the 80s. I was astonished to see construction workers clambering on poles and erecting scaffolding without any safety belt.

The streets were full of things that were new to me. I could not read the huge colourful neon signs, except the trademarks which were in English characters like those of cigarettes and photographic equipment. The billboards and signs seemed to stretch across the street, looking like tapestries being hung outside the buildings to dry. And at nightfall, these tapestries came to life, lighting up the streets with white, yellow, green, blue, and red neon.

Besides horse racing, public gambling was illegal in Hong Kong. Private mah-jong schools were often well hidden. However, there were a few schools highly visible on Lockhart Road. Behind their closed doors I could hear the fierce players inside. The clinking and slamming of tiles were deafening. I pitied the neighbours especially as these schools were open 24/7. In fact, the "students" of these mah-jong schools were playing for real money.

Chinese pharmacies were particularly getting my attention. The combination of the different smells of plants, roots, and animal parts was quite weird and the appearance of these bizarre products baffling. Yan could name a few of them like deer antlers, ginseng, Cordyceps, and bird's nests but many others were unknown to him. I was asking Yan so many questions and most of the time he could answer them. But instead of appreciating his patience, I could not understand why he could not always provide me with an answer.

Des Voeux Road West was lined with shops selling "dried delicacies from the sea and mountains". Large quantities of dried foods–sea cucumbers, scallops, octopus, oysters, abalones, snow fungus, red dates, longans, etc–that I have never seen in France before were exposed in boxes on the sidewalks in front of the shops. Snake skins and fish were left to dry on the ground and on the cemented rooftops of the tram shelters. I was worried about hygiene due to the heavy traffic but Hongkongers seemed unconcerned.

I could not figure out the shops with a huge sign of a bat holding a coin. Their doors were open but a screen was preventing passers-by to peek inside. Yan told me that these were pawn shops. This kind of service, once numerous in France, did not exist anymore and people took their valuables to a specialised public institution to pawn them.

There were huge colourful banners set up on bamboo poles and displayed in front of the Chinese traditional restaurants. These posters skilfully made with colourful papers were announcing forthcoming events such as wedding banquets and birthday celebrations. Measuring 10 feet by 10 feet, the sign publicising the wedding of a loving couple could hardly be missed. I was not sure if I ever wanted my own wedding announcement on a big sign like this.

Buildings were very young compared to the 16th-century old edifices in the old area of Lyon, but were already dilapidated. Why did they age so fast? Was it due to the weather's humidity and temperature or the construction material?

Residential buildings in Hong Kong were often called courts and mansions, and had auspicious names with characters like "fortune", "happy", "brilliant", etc. In France, private housing complexes' and villas' names were often related to the locality or the surrounding vegetation.

I had never seen so many opticians, hardware stores, and jewellery shops on the same street. The traditional Chinese gold jewellery is made of 24K pure gold which had a bright yellow colour. The French 18K gold colour was softer and more discreet. There was a period in the late 80s in Hong Kong when 24K jewellery was fashionable and some companies were selling contemporary and unique designs like the 12 Chinese Zodiac animals. Gold jewellery was usually offered as wedding gifts and some of them were not meant to be worn but bought for their symbolic value. I recall one friend who was offered a necklace representing a pig and her suckling piglets as wedding gift. Pigs represented good luck and prosperity in the Chinese culture. I had always associated pigs with messiness and it was interesting to see how an animal could represent something in one culture but something else in another.

There were more police officers on patrol than in France but their look was less menacing than French police. Was it because of their summer uniform? They were wearing khaki shorts which made them look like youngsters. But with their gun attached to their belt, they were providing a sense of security to everyone in the street. But jewellery stores were guarded by watchmen (at that time most of them Indian men) and I realised that Hong Kong could also be a violent city. But considering the number of armed robberies, these watchmen were not a real deterrent against heavily armed gangsters.

Banks were also protected by guards and had TV screens allowing people in the street to watch the current share prices and the fluctuation of the current days' stock markets. I was amazed to see people of all walks of life packed in front of banks raising their heads and looking at the screens. I had never seen that in France.

Wanchai

The street level of Hennessy Road was lined with shops but some stores, like the supermarket we used to go, were located in the basement of buildings. The products' labels were partly in English and partly in Chinese. Some were only in Chinese. Customers were buying fewer things at one time and the shopping trolleys and packaging at supermarkets were smaller than in France. I recognised the biscuits and the canned food that Yan used to buy in Chinatown in Paris. In the toiletries aisle, I could not find anything I used to buy and was at a loss as to what to choose amongst all these brands. There were many Japanese products, totally unfamiliar to a French woman lost in the maze of numerous narrow aisles.

When we walked on Hennessy Road, we always met the same beggar dressed in dirty rags with terribly tangled hair. Even in the summer heat he still wrapped himself up in newspapers. His legs extended on the sidewalk, seemingly ignoring the world in front of him. Like the other pedestrians I avoided his slouched body while holding my breath. Sitting on the ground in front of the CC Wu Building, he often ate food out of a white polystyrene box brought to him by people living in the neighbourhood. The container was filled with white rice topped with a few slices of roasted pork. This beggar's attitude was quite different from those in France who only wanted money and showed their discontent if we ever tried to give them food.

Before reaching Causeway Bay, behind Wanchai fire station, there was a small outdoor area where a few street sleepers were gathered. Further up under Canal Road Flyover, better known as Goose Neck Bridge, a few old ladies were hitting paper figures with shoes. Yan told me this was called "hit nasty person". The paper figures represented the "nasty person", i.e. the enemy of the clients whom these ladies were paid for to hit. Yan did not want me to stop and look. He did not feel right to watch this old folk custom.

The Wanchai Mass Transit Railway (MTR) station was a 10-minute walk from Yan's home. When I first visited Hong Kong in summer 1985, the Island line had only been in operation for a few months. I was amazed by its modern system and brand-new trains. The stations, concourses and corridors were bright and well-lit. What a difference compared to Paris Metro which was old, not always clean, but often smelly. Even the newest Lyon Metro, which was only 11 years old, was not that clean.

Central and Tsim-Sha-Tsui

Central and Tsim-Sha-Tsui were two other areas worth a visit, maybe even more touristic than Wanchai. Central, the business and financial district, was characterised by high-rises, brand named shops, and a few buildings from the colonial era.

I was eager to visit the museum of teaware on Cotton Road to see real Yixing clay teapots, the famous and highly prized purple-red clay pots that I had learnt about in my art history class. The exhibits were housed at Flagstaff House, a colonial-style building which was also worth visiting.

Every day throngs of office workers crossed Des Voeux Road Central at lunch time in front of the buildings of Hongkong and Shanghai Bank (HSBC) and its neighbour the Bank of China (BOC). A pair of guardian lion statues facing each other and placed in front of each one of these two edifices provided good feng shui to the banks. The setting position of these figures was extremely important and if they ever need to be moved, the timing had to be determined precisely by a feng shui master. I realised later that not only big corporations wanted to know how to harmonise the space and set their offices but also some individuals had their home inspected once a year. These two banks always competed for being located in a taller building than its neighbour. In 1985, BOC building was taller than HSBC building but later it was dwarfed by a new–the current–HSBC building[12]. Then, in 1991, BOC headquarters moved to Bank of China Tower[13], which was, at that time, the tallest building in Hong Kong.

On the other side was Statue Square with the statue of Sir Thomas Jackson, a chief manager of HSBC in the 1900s, and two water fountain sculptures. The larger piece was like a low wall adorned with rectangular blocks of different sizes and colours. Jets of water were splashing on the long relief sculpture. The second artwork was a bas-relief and water was falling from between each of the four panels representing stylised birds, leaves, and other natural motifs in yellow-earth and brownish colours. I would have liked to know who did these two ceramic artworks but could not find any plaques with the artist's name. Across the street on the east side of Statue Square was the Supreme Court Building which housed, later in the same year, the Legislative Council and hence thereafter was called the Legislative Council Building.

On Sundays nearby Statue Square, hundreds of domestic helpers from the Philippines were gathered on Edinburgh Place, Chater Garden, and in the vicinity of City Hall. They were accommodated by their employers and came to meet their compatriots during the only weekly holiday allotted to them. They were sitting on the ground on newspapers or plastic tablecloths and spent all day between them chatting, eating, singing, dancing, and even having some facial, manicure, or a haircut done by their compatriots. Some were even sitting in the passageway joining Chater Road to the Star Ferry building. Among them were a few Filipino men, who were often employed as chauffeurs in Hong Kong. I recalled what Yan had told me once in Nanterre that if I ever lived with him in Hong Kong I would have a helper. I did not need a helper yet. The salary of a domestic helper in Hong Kong was not high and many families could employ one. I was already aware of the advantage and the good fortune Hong Kong women had, as employing a full-time live-in housekeeper in France was very expensive and, even for the middle class, a luxury.

Yan asked me whether I could differentiate the Filipina from the Chinese women. I replied that they all looked more or less the same to me. They all had black straight hair and black eyes. Yan mocked me and asked me if I could recognise him among the other men. It was also very difficult to guess the age of Asian people as they looked younger than their actual age. Elderly usually dyed their hair (unlike in France) and the few youngsters who had auburn hair were remarkable. The few ones with blond hair were even more noticeable and looked like the triad members depicted in the movies, with tattoos of dragons and other signs on their forearms and calves as well as flashy 24K gold chains. Later with more exposure to Asian faces I started to differentiate facial features better. Similarly, at that time, I could not distinguish between Tagalog and Cantonese and the two languages were both incomprehensible for me. In French we would have said, "It's Chinese!"

At the exit of the Chater Road underpass was the Star Ferry Pier, where the ferries crossing to Tsim-Sha-Tsui and Hung Hom, on the Kowloon Peninsula, departed. Newsagents were gathered in front of the entrance of the Star Ferry Pier. There was also an English language bookstore and a fast-food called "Maxim's", not to be confused with "Maxim's of Paris"! Next to the Star Ferry Pier was the City Hall where Yan and I would later get married.

In Edinburgh Place old men were pulling rickshaws and trying to get the attention of tourists. They tried to entice me to take a ride in their vehicle. It must have been exotic but I did not feel like a tourist and declined their invitation. On the plaza an old man was selling tuberose buds for a few dollars. I recognised the pleasant scent of the small white flowers that taxi drivers were putting on the dashboard of their vehicle to cover the cigarette smell.

Also in Edinburgh Place many tourists were lining up, waiting for a taxi to bring them to the Peak Tram terminus to take the funicular railway, the quickest way to reach Victoria Peak, and admire the scenic view from there. One of Yan's secondary classmates had driven us to the Peak one evening and I was astonished by the spectacular view. Two years later my sister brought me to a panoramic point in Los Angeles but after having seen Hong Kong at night it did not look very special.

The wharfs going to the outlying islands were located further west along the waterfront and Queen's Pier, where the governors had landed and two more would land, was on the other side opposite to City Hall. Private junks also departed from Queen's Pier and I could see groups of people who were waiting to embark. They were probably going to sail to one of the outlying islands to eat seafood or to the east coast of Sai Kung Peninsula to swim at Tai Long Wan. The Star Ferry Pier has been moved further west at the end of 2006 but Queen's Pier was demolished in early 2008.

Tsim-Sha-Tsui, on the Kowloon Peninsula, was even more crowded than Central. The double-decker buses of Kowloon Motor Bus were red and beige whereas on Hong Kong Island those of China Motor Bus were blue. The Clock Tower in granite and red brick was the only element left of the old Kowloon railway station. The Hong Kong Museum of Art and the Hong Kong Cultural Centre were not built yet, and the statue of Bruce Lee[14] and the brass star of Jackie Chan did not exist either. Yan showed me the building further up, the Space Museum, where he watched French films regularly during our separation. Facing the windowless egg-shaped building and across Salisbury Road was the Peninsula Hotel and its fleet of Rolls-Royces. Many tourists were taking pictures in front of the water fountain. We then followed a tourist into the hotel but we came out quickly because we felt out of place. Wow, all these chandeliers: it looked like we were in the Palace of Versailles!

Nathan Road was packed with tourists and lots of Indian vendors kept asking us if we wanted to buy "copy watch", pointing at their wrists. Other traders asked us if we wanted to have a custom-made suit and offered us their business cards. Of course we were not interested and ignored them. It was annoying to be accosted all the time. It was very hot and we popped into the many stores just to have a blast of air-conditioning. We did not stay too long inside as I had forgotten to bring with me a jacket and was afraid to catch a cold. Furthermore, the salespersons were turning their back on me to take care of local clients. Yan comforted me, telling me that they were not afraid of me but were only scared of speaking English. Due to the above observations, my first impression of Tsim-Sha-Tsui was not very good.

What I enjoyed most was the ferry ride back to Central. Sitting on the wooden benches, from the middle of the harbour, the high-rises looked much smaller but also more densely packed than viewed from the street-level. The view was magnificent. Each time a boat or a cargo ship sailed next to us our ferry slowed down or changed direction to avoid them and we were moved from side to side. The trip did not take long, then our ferry bumped into the berth and we were again swung from side to side while the crew members in sailor-style uniform were busy attaching a heavy rope around a wooden pole. No sooner the footbridge was lowered than everyone rushed to cross it to be the first to set foot on the ground. As always people were in a hurry.

The Chinese University of Hong Kong

One day Yan brought me to visit the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK) where he studied from 1978 to 1982. We took a cross-harbour bus, got off at the first stop after the tunnel, and walked to the train station terminus in Hung Hom. Behind the station was the Hong Kong Coliseum, a large multi-purpose room which looked like, from outside, a large rectangular tray.

When Yan was at CUHK he took the train once a week to go home on weekends. At that time, Hong Kong railway used a single-track system with passing loops at each station. There was only one train every hour and each journey typically took him one hour. On that day, however, it only took us only 30 minutes to reach University Station from Hung Hom, due chiefly to the previous year's electrification and conversion to a double-track system which had increased the train frequency and speed.

The campus situated on a hill between Shatin and Tai Po in the New-Territories, enjoyed magnificent views of Tolo Harbour and the surrounding countryside. It was certainly a place conducive to academic pursuit, unlike Wanchai which was abuzz with activities of various kinds–legitimate or otherwise. That day was a very hot one, and we took a shuttle bus up the hill to the United College. I suddenly recalled a ghost story that two Hong Kong friends we met in Paris were told when they were both at CUHK. It was said that some students had seen a ghost in one of the classrooms. Hiiii!

Yan was very proud of his alma mater and retained fond memories of his student days that had changed his life. He had made a lunch appointment with a French Jesuit Father and a Great China specialist who was a lecturer at the university. He recounted his student life and experience in France to him and that he could not understand what people were talking about during his first month in France, albeit his two years of training in French in Hong Kong. However, he had adjusted fast. I wondered if I could do the same should I decide to permanently reside here in Hong Kong.