I lie to myself about pollution

I spent a year deluding myself that the Tai Po District of Hong Kong was (relatively) wholesomely clean. Then I hiked up Cloudy Hill on a ‘clear’ day and fully realized that China’s industrial epicenter — Shenzhen — had been just over my shoulder:

View of Shenzhen from Hong Kong (Tai Po)

View toward Shenzhen from half-way up Cloudy Hill in Tai Po (Hong Kong).

The small houses in the front, are “village houses.” Next back, the taller apartment blocks, are in Fanling, which is still in Hong Kong. Then, squinting through the smog, the skyscrapers, are in Shenzhen, China.

Shenzhen had been there all along. Shenzhen, a city of 11 million (official) residents working in factories making all of the crap the world buys, is in my backyard.

Intellectually I knew that it was there, but the view from Cloudy Hill forced me to fully appreciate how close I am to China’s first “Special Economic Zone” and industrial engine of growth.

And forced me to appreciate its impact on air quality. Standing on Cloudy Hill, but looking away from Shenzhen and towards Hong Kong’s Sha Tin and Sai Kung districts, one still sees haze, but also a lovely blue patch in the sky:

View from Cloudy Hill, Tai Po toward Ma On Shan

View toward Ma On Shan (eastern New Territories) from Cloudy Hill in Tai Po.

Both of these pictures were taken within minutes of each other.

In Tai Po, I am certainly lucky to miss out on the higher levels of roadside pollution that exist in Central and Kowloon. The pollution readings in Tai Po are generally better than either of those areas.

But my hike up Cloudy Hill forced me to realize just how close I am to the manufacturing heartland of China. It seems I’ve swapped breathing bus fumes for breathing industrial emissions.

The border between Hong Kong and Mainland China is stark. The Hong Kong side is relatively rural, mountainous and green — the key to my delusion of wholesomeness. Just over the border, however, is instant urban jungle:

Source of satellite image: Google maps.

Border between Hong Kong and Mainland China. (Source of satellite image: Google maps.)

It’s not hard to tell where the border is, is it?

Of course Tai Po is still cleaner than my former home of Zhuhai, a Chinese city whose sunset’s glowed a gorgeous orange-y red from industrial pollution:

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Zhuhai, China in 2005. (Photo source: my mom, Linda Brown)

For now, I’ll comfort myself with the knowledge that we’re entering the side of the year with relatively low air pollution. (With thanks to Phil at “Hong Kong (and Macau) Stuff” for pointing this out.)

Hong Kong Wishing Festival: “The Hope Will Be Real*” (*even if your house won’t actually fill with gold)

wishing placard and orange

I re-visited the Lam Tsuen Wishing Tree this week, but unlike the deserted scene back in mid-December, it is now center-stage to the “Lam Tsuen Well-Wishing Festival.” We joined the many, many families visiting during this week’s Chinese New Year holiday.

The purpose of the festival is to make wishes for the new year. My daughter wished for a puppy (she meant toy puppy, right?), but most people wish for health, wealth, happiness, success, or romance.

Most attendees chose to make their wishes via the traditional “tie your wish to an orange and throw it into a tree branch” approach. An artificial tree is constructed for this purpose as the original Wishing Tree is supported by metal struts and off-limits for the time being as it recovers from many previous decades of wishing.

Temporary Wishing Tree

Artificial Wishing Tree

Wishers can buy an artificial orange with red wishing placard. Free-form wishes can be written on the blank side of the placard. The other side (pictured up top) contains a check-list of popular wishes. These standard wishes are quite interesting to read, so I’ve reproduced the English version here (complete with the occasional grammatical error):

I hope to receive a fortune

May my small capital makes a huge profit

May my house be full of gold and silver

May I receive profit from all sides

May I thrive and prosperous in business

May my basin and bowl full of fortune

May I have distinguished guests coming all year round

May this year usher in wealth and prosperity

May I have abundance of fortune year after year

May I have prosperity in all kinds of business

May I work successfully

May I be promoted to a higher position

May I make great progress in my studies

May I come in first in examinations

May I achieve the highest status possible

May there be perfect harmony between my partner and I

May I have abundant life

May I have a happy family

May I have peace in my whole family

May all my wishes come true

May I be youthful and beautiful

May I have good health

May I be energetic and vital in life

May I have success in dating

May I have my perfect match

May I give birth to a son

May there be peace and prosperity in my country and between all people

May we have world peace

May me country prosper and may the people be at peace

May I travel safely

May I have good luck and a long life

May I always have good luck and a long life

There are many other means of making wishes at the festival, including by floating candle:

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The grandest method is by large, ornate lantern:

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A lantern wishing for happiness

Some also paid special visits to statues for their Chinese Zodiac year, each of which held a piece of candy in its mouth in hope for a “sweet year.”

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Dragon holding a sweet for a “sweet year.”

Do well-wishers see all their dreams come true? The Wishing Festival itself hedges its bets with its motto:

“The Hope Will Be Real”

Colorful bamboo signage at the Wishing Festival

Slingshots, Strawberry Fields and Body Language

Ting Kok strawberry fields

Searching for strawberries in Cantonese sprinkled with mime. We found her busily hauling metal pots around the giant, but empty, outdoor Tai Mei Tuk BBQ King. She was the only employee on-duty at 10 am on a Monday morning. Our group was hunting for a nearby strawberry field and followed the clanging noise through the BBQ to ask her directions.

Finding her, I started to say “where is strawberry?” in blunt Cantonese before remembering that I had no idea how to say “strawberry.” So I punted by using the Mandarin word for strawberry and said: “cao mei bin douh aah?”

She smiled at the children. She did not know what I was trying to ask her.

So I started miming eating, like eating a strawberry. This did not help as she just thought we wanted to eat at the BBQ King, which was obviously closed.

I bent down and pretended to pick strawberries. I was getting warmer. A few more tries and I heard her say “sih do be lei?”

It turns out that “strawberry” in Cantonese is an English loan word. That is, it’s a word which Chinese characters were selected for to mimic the English sound of the word: 士多啤梨. So my “strawberry” and her “sih do be lei” were just close enough for us to understand each other.

It was happy smiles all around as she pointed us back across the black gravel parking lot and around some jungle-y overgrowth.

Strawberry fields come into sight. After walking past a mini-junk yard and a few village dogs, we could see the strawberry field before us:

Strawberry field in Tai Po

A beautiful sight on a perfectly warm, sunny day in mid-January.

The fields had been heavily picked over the weekend and we hunted carefully up and down the rows for ripe berries. My young picker and I came away with one pound of pinkish, but still sweet, organic strawberries for 50 HKD.

Slingshot at the ready. The two ladies weeding the rows were also charged with keeping the birds off of the fields. Diligence was required as the birds were a problem: almost every time we spotted a perfect deep red berry, we clamored over the rows only to find a bite or two had already been taken by one of birds.

The ladies’ first line of defense was a loud, deep call: heeeeeyyyyyy-ooooooooohhhhhh, heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyy-ooooooooohhhhhh. But if too many birds persisted, one woman would pick up her slingshot and fire small stones in the direction of the birds. This was only marginally effective, but fascinating to watch:

Firing the sling shot in the strawberry field

The slingshot

Warm sun, combined with strawberries, mountain vistas, and on-going bird-abatement theater, made for a perfect winter morning in Hong Kong.

Location details. Winter is strawberry season in Hong Kong. The organic field we visited is opposite Ting Kok Village, just off of Ting Kok Road in Tai Po District. The closest MTR stop is Tai Po Market on the East Rail Line. From there, take KMB bus 75k or a green New Territories taxi.

Click through for location details for Tai Mei Tuk BBQ King, which is right next to the strawberry field:

Click through to Google location map of the very nearby Tai Mei Tuk BBQ King

Once you get close, look for their banner, which can be spotted from Ting Kok Road:

Ting Kok Village strawberries

Dragon Boat Fever: Hong Kong’s culture of contagion avoidance

Like many Hongkongers, we spent last Saturday at the dragon boat races in celebration of the Tuen Ng Festival. A great morning of heavy monsoonal rain alternating with blazing hot, humid sun. Like a spa day really: cooling shower, sauna, cooling shower, sauna.

The boat races themselves were great fun to watch. We went to our “local” races here in Tai Po, but I’m not going to share a picture of the colorful races. I want to share this:

 I’ve already mentioned how hard-core Hong Kong schools are about contagious disease prevention. Turns out festival organizers are just as aggressive.

There is such a high awareness of contagious diseases here (obviously because of the reality of SARS and the fear of Avian Flu and Swine Flu pandemics). Sick people who must leave home wear masks, elevator buttons are often covered with frequently replaced plastic sheets, hand sanitizing get is ever-present, and they scan everyone entering Hong Kong for fever.

I have to say, I really appreciate it. In case of pandemic, it might just be one of the best places in the world to be. They have their shit together and they are ready.

[Comic] Trying (desperately) to get around Hong Kong on a very rainy Saturday

Now that I’ve recovered, I’d like to give a big “thank you!” to Expatially Mexico, Global Anni, and Fly Away Home for nominating me for several blogging awards last week! I am truly honored. Details here.

Life lessons at the Tai Po Mega Mall

Soulless “Mega Mall” (photo from Chinese Wikipedia)

May 1st being a public holiday in Hong Kong, we headed out in search of anyplace away from our empty house, the sandflies in our neighborhood, and the buckets of rain falling from the sky. We ended up at the “Tai Po Mega Mall.”

To picture the Tai Po Mega Mall, imagine the second floor of most of a town center’s buildings converted into shopping space and connected by covered pedestrian sky bridges crossing every road. But wait you say, that sounds like every shopping center in Hong Kong. Well, then imagine it as a good, but decidedly second-tier shopping complex out in the New Territories. Starbucks: yes. Designer clothing boutiques: no. So actually, it might just be the perfect mall: everything you actually need without being too fussy.

To people on Hong Kong Island itself, or Kowloon or even Shatin for that matter, it might as well be the dark side of the moon.

Despite a morning spent at a mall, my daughter learned the following (the littlest one just happily goes wherever we drag him):

Japanese grocery stores are always full of interesting snacks. We explored Yata and were delighted to find packets of weird colored gelatin, loads of “Hello Kitty” branding, and other aggressively cute snacks.

People sprawled out in the middle of pedestrian walkways are often not actually sleeping. They point at their upturned hats with spare change because they are in search of some more coins. My daughter was originally rather perplexed as to why anyone would sleep where: (1) it’s dirty; and (2) they’re likely to be stepped on.

It is not polite to point and stare especially at old, crippled people. A lesson discussed after she pointed and gawked at a poor little crunched over man walking with a cane.

Slightly off-the-beaten-track public walkways always smell of urine. Or, as she said, “my nose is full of pee smell.”

Semi-literate adults are hopeless. The disappointment was evident when I couldn’t read every sign we passed. I need to redouble my efforts.

Lesson for me: Better planning is needed before the next holiday.

Lesson for you dear reader: The Tai Po Mega Mall is probably more authentically “Hong Kong” than that shot of a fake junk with non-functioning sails bobbing in Victoria Harbor that graces every guidebook.