Hong Kong is a Beautiful Bastard Child

Hong Kong is not China.

This much is apparent to anyone who steps foot into the specially administrated zone; see the trams fully decked in advertisements, their lazy tracks traverse the island haphazardly, cutting through the surging foot traffic in fits and stumbles.

Under the multicolor buildings that are part English, part French, part modern, and part Oriental with spiraling outdoor staircases and elevated walking paths between massive malls; an international menagerie of people tours the city.

Today, its differences from the mainland are much more explicit, as Hong Kong is literally covered in Anti-Chinese and Pro-HK graffiti.

You’ll find the scrawls of a dissatisfied, proud, and indignant people in four languages. Chinese, both simplified and traditional, English, and because of Catalonia’s uprising as well, bits of Spanish.

This collection of language is part of why I’ve never experienced anywhere so unique, especially to me.

It’s kind of funny to me that I can communicate in two tongues that are both extremely common at different forms of mastery. English as a Native and Mandarin as an ABC [American Born Chinese]. However most common tongue [Cantonese] is completely non-understandable to me. But all of Hong Kong speaks two or three of these with fluency. As a result I can maneuver my way through most conversations with my combination and if we aren’t trying to discuss nuclear physics or religion I can be pretty well understood.

The history of the city, 99+ years of colonialism and bondage, gives us the context for why Hong Kong and Mainland are so different.

The very name is a response the smell of the perfumed air of the archipelago. The beauty and its strategic value is why England decided to take the island for themselves, establishing it as their main port and one of thousands of points of global colonial dominance.

It wouldn’t be enough. To expand, England would continue to take more territory, north of the islands. Today, 3 neighborhoods [New Territories, Kowloon, Hong Kong Island] and a half dozen islands are part of the Territory of Hong Kong, while the main island is the original Hong Kong.

One of those smaller landmasses is Lamma and it is beautiful. I take a day trip on the suggestion of a friend. It’s easily accessible from multiple ferry ports. Swipe the ~3$ fare with the same Octopus™ card that covers all public transport [and works in most storefronts as well]. The hike is wondrous, and well built. The coves are a beautiful combination of waves and surf on soft sand and a technicolor of rocks. The jungle is a vivid tropical green. In the bay buoyed by a foundation of tires and barrels, sits little fishing houses. These aquatic neighbors and the ancient villages that dot the island are dying communities as the youths generally leave for greater opportunities across the water.

In some ways Hong Kong is more Chinese than mainland, especially China’s major cities. China’s government has modernized so fast that walking through Shanghai is like walking through “Metropolitan Western Europe R’ US”, from the luxury brand flagship stores, to the spotless Starbucks and McDonald’s.

Not so in Hong Kong, where Asian family owned stores and brands are unapologetically next to the imports. True, the local diner can serve you steak and eggs or full English, but order two eggs any style on buttered toast and it comes with noodles or rice porridge. Something I’ve never seen before. Breakfast sets A through D give range to the English-Asian fusion cuisine.

Hong Kong-ers do not consider themselves Chinese. They are a separate culture. They compete in the Olympics under different banners. They proudly represent Hong Kong. And during the protests, that national fervor becomes an outright roar that catches the gathered crowds in waves. Over and Over. Free Hong Kong. Long Live Hong Kong. Hong Kong Forever. [And honestly? Blacken China’s eye. Invade Macau.]

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I spot an American flag, waved by a few young protestors. It’s Halloween weekend; I’m in my bright purple dashiki and I have a bag of chocolate candies.

This isn’t my protest. Because I am not citizen of Hong Kong. I can observe. I can support. I can hand out candy. I can wish cops, press, staff, protestors alike a Happy Halloween and to be safe. Because that is the humanity we are allowed each other. That I want to impress on to all people.

Because being there, I’ve learned that this has escalated. The protests are not dying down. They are getting restless and restlessness leads to violence and violence begets violence in an escalation that is all too repetitive in human history. A female shouts accusations at the cops about a dead relative. Cops in pseudo-military gear bluster their way through civilians. This isn’t war, but it might as well be a Civil War; the people are trying to distill a clear cultural identity in the murky waters of history and the bitter effects of colonialism, from the roots of its people, to the massive totalitarian government hungry for world domination.

However, in the day, the Hong Kong people are super polite, and very friendly. They know enough about internationals that there is no old Chinese man snapping 6 photos of blonde hair women as they walk down the street. There’s much less staring than in Mainland China, as if they understand that it’s rude and annoying to your peers. There’s a lot less spitting. A lot less smoking. It’s perceptibly less crowded, depending on time and place.

Still, there’s no escaping that it’s China. Roasted ducks, faces on, hang from windows. The characters are traditional Chinese. The people’s skin is olive, their hair black or dyed, their eyes brown or colored by contacts.

There’s no hiding from Big Brother. Every camera. Every check point. All the police on all the corners, now in riot gear.

There’s no escaping the Western influence. Huge light up billboards remind me of New York. Trams remind me of San Fran or actually, New Orleans. Brands like Gucci or Harry Winston are everywhere. The top of Victoria Peak, overlooking the island, has a modern shopping mall complex and a flagship Gordon Ramsey restaurant built into the mountain side.

A hundred years after the colonial invasion, the rape of country gave birth to a love child. Modern day Hong Kong is premier multinational Asian city. Hong Kong is beautiful. Hong Kong is unique in the world.

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The Hong Kong protestors are going to lose. Again. They will be enveloped further into the Chinese fold as the monolith of the new world superpower is ravenous and not remotely sated.

I’ll say what’s already been said. Hong Kong is the first battle of the new Cold War. It’s China against no one. Taiwan will soon become the next battle ground.

Will the international community respond?

Will we see these evolutions of Chinese culture become absorbed by the monolith of the Communist Party? Will Xi Jinping become akin to Mao and Stalin and Hitler? Envision and act on a world that is in their own image?

I don’t know.

I’m very fearful though. And I’m very proud of the Hong Kong-ers who are trying to take that stand. Alone in the world, calling for their rights.

Or not completely alone.

#FreeHongKong

Much love,

Winston

Big shout out to the Kumquat, Alex. Thank you for showing me your city, the dope mall rooftop, the ramen-spice fries, the froyo with the Parisian on the balcony, the shawarma. I met this guy in Shanghai eating Matt’s BBQ and poking fun at the passed out drunk. It was awesome to meet up again in his home town. Shit photo tho