The Paradox of Hongkong

The storm-cloud colored skies amidst towering skyscrapers and rain-drenched concrete pavements brought in a coldness that hung heavy in the air the morning we arrived in Hongkong two weeks ago. Hongkong – at least my memory of it – was always raining. Rivulets of rain came streaming against the airplane windows the first time I saw Hongkong a few years back. It was a dismal day that day. A tropical typhoon was sweeping the ultra-modern, über-sophisticated city. Apart from the blinking, distant lights, I could not discern shapes or features. As if to keep up with tradition, when I returned two years after, rain unseasonably began to pour in the middle of a blazing summer not long after we arrived. The rains lent a certain mystic to the urban Hongkong and cooled considerably the infernal city streets. It lead me to hurriedly scribble the following lines during an hour-long bus ride from the Saikung district to Wanchai: ““Pewter-colored day that should have been devoid of charm, but the rains weaved ancient magic as the clouds shroud the piercing skyscrapers in mystery, harking back to olden China where heroes fought and lived epic adventures.”

Heady and hypnotic - the busy streets of Mongkok

But Hongkong will always be beguiling to me for it is such a paradox. In the midst of a sea of humanity milling about on Nathan Road to the heady scent of the street food wafting all over, to the tacky and cheap tourist souvenirs you find in the night market of Temple Street to the sleek and fashionably up-to-date and terribly upscale malls, you feel the pulsating excitement. Something is happening here. Something grand and cosmic is taking place. You can’t miss it. There is a hypnotic beat that throb just under the beat of the night life, a mantra to get up and get going, an inescapable desire to race to the top, to change, to be tear off old things and begin anew. A phoenix-like magic overcomes the city to burn itself so that a brighter, younger, more vibrant self can emerge. However, Stephen, our guide to the local scenes of Mongkok and who grew up in the area, would tell us that some things never change. He pointed out the schools where he finished his elementary and secondary education, the old spots that refused to fade even in the midst of a burgeoning desire to innovate and change; the hawkers and the pimps of the old red light district and local eateries that still had the old-fashioned ceiling fans where he recalls famous stars of olden days would come to dine and be seen. There is a feel of ancient charm in the air as hotpots traditionally slow cooked using red-hot coals beguile and tantalize the passers by to take a seat among the scruffy looking backpackers and the well-dressed locals.

"There is where the refuse of the city are dumped."

We turn a corner, and then we come to a quiet part of Shanghai Street. Stephen pointed to a garbage collecting warehouse across the street where we were standing at. It reeked faintly of decay and refuse as trucks collect and dump the city’s garbage in this warehouse to be shipped somewhere later. He made us look to the second story of the building. He said that that place is a shelter, a temporary place for homeless persons. This center is run by the Salvation Army. This is where the poorest and the humblest can find hot soup and a bed space for the night. He gave an ironic snort. “This is where the refuse of the city are dumped,” he says. The quarters have no air conditioning system. It sits directly above the garbage. Imagine the smell during the summer season, he told us. “That’s so sad, “ I observed. “It’s not sad,” Stephen added, “this is Hongkong!” Then he told us about the lovely brick house where we were standing at. He said that this was a historic site. The government has spent a lot of money to restore this site. I forget why it was historic, but Stephen said that this was a special place. A brick wall was also restored. Just behind the landmark was a tall, luxurious condominium complex. “Look, they built it so high that those that live there cannot see what’s going on down here! They put up this brick walls so that they cannot see what’s on the street just opposite them!” Filled with emotion, Stephen pointed to the garbage disposal center and the shelter for the homeless, and then gestured towards the expensive historical landmark and the steel and glass building. “They stand so close to each other, but they do not see each other!” Stephen told us, “This is Hongkong for you!”

"This is Hongkong for you"