© keeweechic 2001-2007

 

My Apartment Building - Harry.

In the apartment block where I lived in Fortress Hill, I seemed to be the only westerner residing there, although I did one night see a Caucasian male, I think visiting his girlfriend. The people on my floor all tried to speak to me and at least greeted me, if they could say nothing else. When I first moved in, there were surprised looks on the faces of the security guards, to whom every morning I would say ‘Jo san’ (good morning). After a couple of mornings, they were all saying Jo san back. At night I would say ‘hello’ as I came in, always smiling. One in particular lovely old guy, took a shine to me and decided to try and have a conversation. His English was very limited but after a lengthy process one night, we established that my name was Laurie and I lived in B7 6th floor and his English name was Harry (I forget his Chinese name). He would be on from 7.00p.m. until 7.00am. and from then on if I came in while he was there I would ‘hello Harry’. He would smile away and say ‘hello’. While collecting my mail or waiting for the lift he tried a conversation with me asking me if I was married, Ian had just been staying with me. I explained no, that was my Goh Goh (brother), to which he replied ‘oh, much older’. Then he asked if I was Italian, as I was very nice and very beautiful. I suppressed my amusement and said no, I was from New Zealand, but thanked him. I thought it interesting that he should think only Italians were nice and beautiful looking, and wonder what encounter he had had to think that. He was a lovely man, the father/grand-fatherly type and I truly wished that I could have spoken more than just a few words in Cantonese to be able to have a proper conversation with him. Harry seemed to disappear after Chinese New Year.  

One night I came home to find both lifts that I could take, out of action, I could not understand the signs and the only lift working was one that started at the 13th floor (I was on the 6th). The guard at the time could not speak English but realised that I was not sure of what I should do (although I thought I would have to take the lift to the 13th then walk down). He gestured to me, and I decided to go with him. Sure enough up we went to the 13th floor and then he showed me the stairwell and proceeded to walk down with me. On every floor he pointed to the floor number and after a couple of floors I realised he did not know which one I was on. Having learnt to count to ten in Cantonese I said ‘Lok’. ‘Ah’ he said and kept going until the 6th floor. This was a real personal service and not extended to anyone else. I never found out his name but when he was on he would release the front door for me without me having to put in the code.  

Stanley

On one of my many visits to Stanley Market out the back of Hong Kong Island I found a little shop away from the market area that I had seen advertised. The shop was very small and sold an assortment of baking needs, non-dripping candles, gifts and other goodies. A old, diminutive Chinese lady looked after the store, she was quite an amusing sight with her floppy Holly Hobby type hat. She started up a conversation on my first visit and asked where I was from. On finding out that I came from NZ she quickly disappeared and returned with a tub of NZ yoghurt which she insisted that I sit down and eat, telling me how wonderful it was. Trying not to offend her, although not really hungry, I sat and we chatted. I found out that she had come from Shanghai some 25 years earlier. Her English was very good and she was just so full of interest in anything you wanted to tell her. She had never been overseas but had obviously read a lot and engaged others in conversations in order to find out about the countries of their origins. Her eyes would widen and light up, she had such a thirst for learning about such places. She told me that in Shanghai she had this wonderful English cookbook which had great tips in it, one of which she told me, was rubbing a cut garlic clove around a salad bowl before putting the ingredients in, she said it was so wonderful. She asked me if I knew about it.

On leaving Shanghai she was unable to bring any of her books with her and had tried in vain over the years to find the same book. On my next visit I called in to see her and when I left she gave me a jar of Paul Newman salsa. I told her I would bring my brother back with me on my next visit for her to meet. A couple of months later I walked in and she remembered and said ‘this must be your brother’. We were both given candies. She was such a delight and again I could have spent hours talking to her. She probably had been through so much hardship during her life and yet she possessed such enthusiasm in life. On another visit she told me hat Deli France had just opened in the market, so when I finished shopping I took her back a sultana pastry for her lunch. She kept insisting that she was on a diet even though there was nothing of her. I ended up walking out with a gift of a box of Carrs water crackers. I couldn’t win! I was to go back and visit her many times including the day that Princess Diana died. She had her English channel radio on and told me the news as soon as I walked in the door, she was quite distressed. It was on this visit I found out her name was Ruth. I visited Ruth prior to leaving Hong Kong and asked if I could take her photo. She said there was no need for photos as the memories were the photos, she also believed that if you took a photo, you would not see each other again. I was prepared for this as a lot of Asians do not like their photos taken but it would have been nice to have a picture of her to go with my stories. Her little shop never got any easier to move around in with merchandise being all over the floor and only a small track for one person to walk through it all.    

Christmas

Christmas in Hong Kong shops and stores was very much like you would recognise in any part of the world. Large obtrusive perfectly formed Christmas trees took centre stage in major shopping complexes Little Santa houses stood close by with cloned Santa’s patiently taking wishes and requests from tiny ones that only knew Christmas to be a time of getting presents. While the exchanging of presents was a common practice in Hong Kong, the origins of Christmas were lost on the majority of the population as Christianity was not a major religion in Hong Kong. The outdoor decoration surpassed anything I had seen in New Zealand and Australia with a switchboard of coloured lights arranged and commingled in designs depicting themes of Christmas covering the entire frontages of buildings and walkways. A carillon of tinkling bells could be heard emanating from decorations with the usual joyous carolling being broadcasted throughout central p.a. systems. From early December, sales were everywhere to entice the shopper, unlike in Australia where sales normally begun directly after Christmas.  

Just a couple of days prior to Christmas was the Chinese Winter Solstice celebration, the shortest day of the year. This night was important for the Chinese families who gathered together for a celebratory dinner. There were the obvious Christmas parties going around the Hong Kong community with some of the hotels advertising Christmas lunches/dinners. Golden Harvest’s contribution to Christmas and it’s staff was a one hour lunch, buffet style, outside in the studio area. The directors were clustered together for photo shots and the odd chat to a less senior person, but no mixing with the ordinary staff ever occurred. At the end of the hour, it was back to work with the only consolation of finishing at 4.00pm. In our small GV area, I organised a little Kris Kringle, which finally for me made it seem a little more like Christmas. Christmas eve on the TV. was full of Christmas shows both recent and old which again evoked a little more of the festive season in me.  

Christmas day itself seemed to fall a little flat. In my situation and not knowing anyone here, it really was just another day. I spent the morning trying to get free lines out to New Zealand to telephone my family and in most cases the call got through to me from their side a lot quicker. The last Christmas day I experienced in Hong Kong was cool but lovely and sunny and by lunchtime I had decided to walk through Victoria Park to Causeway Bay and see if I could get inspired with a little more spirit. The park itself was quiet with just a few old people sitting around scanning newspapers and a reasonable number of Filipinos gathered in preparation for some Christmas carolling. The stores themselves seemed unusually quiet and even though there were plenty of pedestrians on the streets, I still felt this atmosphere of oneness. Maybe it was the aura I was creating for myself when normally on this day I would be around friends or family. Very few shops were closed, mainly smaller ones but to most retailers, it was business as usual, still trying to catch the last minute gift buyer. A lot of the sales would continue on until Chinese New Year since in 1998 it followed only a month after Christmas.

Unlike my first Christmas in Hong Kong, I was not rushing out with the camera capturing the decorations and festivities, however when I did go to Tsim Sha Tsui at night I found that there was a definite lacking in the decorations from the year before. Nathan Road which had been ablaze with illuminated illustrations up the median of the road, only had colour lights strung up. The usual shop frontages were bare in comparison to the previous year. There just seemed to be a wind down of the lavish decorations I had previously seen. Whether there had just been an exhaustion of displays over a year which first had celebrated Christmas, then Chinese New Year and the Handover celebrations or whether there was a wind down in the acknowledgement of Christmas with the newer Motherland influence, I was not sure, but most definitely, it was not as spectacular as my first year.

On the evening of Christmas day, Candy our secretary came over to my apartment and we bravely ventured out by bus to Jumbo Floating Restaurant at Aberdeen. It was a tourist spot that I had yet to see in the evening when this floating palace was brilliantly alight in the darkened waters of Aberdeen and the only access was by small courtesy boats that ferried people back and forth. The restaurant itself was not busy with mostly Asian people from other parts of Asia rather than Hong Kong residents eating there.

This Christmas was particularly bad for Hong Kong, the tourist figures were already down and airlines were promoting special packages in order to try and bring the dollars back into the country. Prior to Christmas a deadly virus known as the bird flu was found with several people eventually dying. So little was known about the virus (called H5N1) that in desperate measures to contain its further spreading, the decision to slaughter and gas 1.3 million chickens was made. In two days 770,000 had been destroyed. While the World Health Organisation was saying that cooked chicken was ok, many restaurants were taken chicken dishes completely off their menus. My local sandwich shop where I always bought my chicken sandwich for my lunch also stopped selling chicken. Many experts were called in from overseas to try and determine whether the virus was communicable person to person, which had never been known before, but it was interesting to note that none of the many hundreds of poultry vendors in the territory, were any of those affected by the virus. Local markets were sanitised and even other species such as geese, ducks, quails and pigeons were being considered for extermination.

While no real panic emerged over the virus scare, people were being cautions in checking with their doctors if they developed cold or flu like symptoms – myself included, especially since I had not experienced a cold in more than 3 years and then suddenly found myself with a full dose. World news was certainly watching and reporting on the progress in finding the cause of the virus and possibly caused unnecessary anxiety amongst would-be travellers to the territory. All imports of chicken from the mainland were banned pending further investigation and with the biggest festival of the Chinese calendar looming, it seemed that the all important chicken dish was going to be missing from the dinner table this year.   While the bird flu mystery would continue to baffle the medical profession, Christmas was quickly forgotten. Preparation for the Chinese New Year began with a lot of the electric decorations remaining to be reused with only slight changes to accommodate the Lunar New Year theme. The buying frenzy would then continue for new outfits for welcoming in the New Year which was certainly a more important occasion. Of course the western New Year was celebrated to a degree as well. Everyone just gets seems to get involved with everyone else’s festivals and celebrations.    

Golden Harvest Studios

The guards on the gate would always have smiles on their faces and wave or try and say something to me in Cantonese, otherwise ‘bye bye’ was the only English they knew. I never knew whether they thought I could understand them or not. one in particular was a bit of a character and was always telling me that the shuttle bus was there (around the corner waiting) and to hurry, when it was not, or telling me I was too late and I had missed it when there was still one more trip for the shuttle bus to make. I soon learnt that he was having me on. Candy taught me that ‘Mo Tsare’ (pronunciation only) was no shuttle and ‘Yau Tsare’ was yes shuttle, and ‘Pie Doory’ was queue up. When I first used these Cantonese words on the guards, the surprised looks on their faces was my payback. Those in the queue were also amused and surprised that I was speaking Cantonese.

The drivers were always standing around at night waiting for the ‘masters’ to drive them home. Candy and I would say goodnight to them all and one stated saying to me something additional which I had to get Candy to translate ‘lang loyn’ which meant ‘beautiful lady’. She taught me to say a response back ‘lang zhai’ (nice man) or Lay ho ho yan (good looking guy) which just broke them up the first time I said it, but seemed to hit the male ego in the right spot. It didn’t take long before they were all putting in their little bit in trying to get me to say a little more Cantonese. One driver would sometimes drop me at the MTR station if I was late for the shuttle and he was leaving at the same time. They were all nice people and very friendly. Raymond Chow’s driver actually lived in my building – that really was a coincidence although I very rarely saw him.

The Amah's who cleaned and did other things around the studios were also very friendly, usually only able to say ‘hello’, ‘good morning’ or ‘bye bye’ in English. With a little coaxing I tried getting one of them (May) to learn a little English which used to make her giggle at her own attempt and then babble on in Cantonese to me. Moi was another one that was always smiling and even learnt my name although she could speak no English. I did not think they were used to being treated so informally or perhaps equally and rather enjoyed it even though they could not understand me. I rather think that most of the staff treated them just as ‘Amahs’. The cups were all collected off the desks at the end of the day and all washed and put away for us in the our cupboard. There were always so many menial task workers around the studio, some quite old. Raymond Chow was known for keeping people on especially in the old age.

Jackie Chan could quite often be seen at the studios as he has an office there. He would usually turn up in a variety of different coloured track suits, sometimes holding press conferences out in the car park. Christmas eve when leaving the office, he stopped his car in the driveway and offered me a lift into town. While I should have been bowled over and in awe of him had I been a local, I was kind of surprised that he would offer since he did not know me or even my name. He chatted a little and sang his own version of ‘Santa Claus is coming to Town’ changing the words to Deng Xi Ping (meaning the Chinese are coming to town). When he dropped me off, I got a kiss on both cheeks and a merry Christmas. I did not like to admit to him that I had never seen any of his movies, but all this seemed to have quite an amazed affect on some people who knew of his notoriety.

After Candy joined us as our secretary she would quite often come back from lunch with other girls within Golden Harvest and report on all the questions that had been asked about me. I seemed to become something of a fascination and she was repeatedly asked what was I like, what did I eat for lunch, did I like Chinese food, what was I like to work for and what did I do at the weekends. I listened with quiet amusement at the novelty of being the object of curiosity. Some, that had had conversations with me, even briefly like Casper the accountant, told Candy that he thought I was a bit Asian (presumably by my knowledge and appreciation of Asian culture). Simon once voiced what others had before, that I must have been Asian in a past life. Candy always told people that I knew Hong Kong better than she did. I think being the only female Gweilo in the studios gave some people the chance to ask questions about us ‘aliens’ as Candy would call us, and get some answers to their intrigue.   I was quite often being called on by the girls in the office to help them write a letter in English or being telephoned to ask the meaning of certain words. I also proof read letters/faxes that Rosalie typed, first for her spelling or interpretation and secondly for Steve’s grammar. All this had a positive effect on me as it made me stop and think about the way in which I was wording my own letters and not just simplify words out of laziness. You soon learnt that in trying to explain or ask something and receiving a blank look, you did not just simply repeat the same question, you looked at another approach in asking the same thing in a different way. You also had to be aware that when asking a question you quite often got a yes when really they meant no.

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