by Betsy May Veloo (a self-confessed Malaysian Hong Konger)
As the pilot made the announcement that we were about to take-off, I buckled up, switched my electronic devices to flight mode, looked out the airplane window and bid a silent farewell to Malaysia…”See you in a month’s time, I whispered to myself.”
I was going to Hong Kong, the place I had lived and worked for more than 30 years. It was not my first trip back since leaving the place after retiring…I was there in 2022, shortly after countries started lifting their travel restrictions imposed during the Covid-19 pandemic.
Visiting Hong Kong in 2022 was an experience not to be forgotten. The once-bustling airport, one of the busiest the world, was shuttered down. Travellers, all masked up, were ushered to narrow corridors on arrival. No one could see the once bustling shops and restaurants – everything was closed off.
After the stringent testing for Covid-19 and the intense scanning of travel documents, we were taken, in buses, to the hotels of our choice to be quarantined for a week.
Once allowed to leave the hotel, I hit the streets. Hong Kong appeared alien to me. The usual hustle and bustle and the energy that made it “The city that never sleeps” were notably absent. I told myself Covid19 did this, like it did to every other places it touched. Shops and eating places were closed, larger malls were opened but many in-stores there remained closed.
I was in Hong Kong for a very short time for some business and left quickly because Covid-19 was not totally eradicated.
I vowed to return… It was ok, I said, Fragrant Harbour (Hong Kong’s Chinese name) will bounce back, it will return to its former glory despite Covid-19 and the political turmoil earlier.
I did return… nearly three years later.
In “Search” of the Hong Kong I Knew
Only last month, I excitedly packed my bags for the trip to my “second kampung”, as a friend described it.
Arriving at the airport, I felt like it was a “homecoming”. I didn’t feel like a tourist, I felt like a Hong Konger again, as I exited through the “Hong Kong Residents” immigration digital checkout point.
However, I noticed that Chek Lap Kok airport was not as busy as I thought it would be. It was the timing, I tell myself. Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I jump into the airport train, something I missed doing during my 2022 trip. I gazed out as the train whizzed past familiar places.
The first thing I did after settling into my temporary accommodation was to venture out to soak in the sounds and sights. I was going to take the underground trains, which I knew so well since my days in Hong Kong. I could name each stop even before the train arrived at its station and the colour of the individual station platform walls.
I had psyched myself for the crowds, on the streets and in the trains…how wrong I was. Am I in Hong Kong, I asked myself?
Later, my ex-colleagues would inform me that there seemed to be “fewer” people on the trains because a couple of new routes had been added. I studied the map of the underground train network and true enough, the massive construction works that were taking place across Kowloon and the New Territories while I was still working there, had been completed.
They are now up and running and this could explain the seemingly fewer people on the regular stations I used to take. Planners were smart enough to “divide” the commuters along the train routes although their destinations were the same. Very intelligent planning indeed, I thought.
During my heydays as a journalist, I had to wait sometimes for the third or fourth train before I could get on or rather, get shoved into a carriage.
Sometimes, due to the massive crowding on the station platforms, I would just leave to take a bus or taxi…even then the double-decker buses would be chock-a-block and taxis were hard to come by. The solution then…start your journey much, much earlier.
But, the situation seems better now, without the shoving, pushing, cursing and swearing, and as an ex-colleague added: “Sometimes, you can actually get a seat!”
I made my way to a favourite tourist hotspot – Victoria Harbour front. It was around five in the evening. I had taken the “not-so-crowded” underground train to the tourist district of Tsim Sha Tsui. I got off the train, thinking, “Ahhh, this is where the crowds would be”. But, I was disappointed. Where are the mainland tourists, and the other visitors?
I didn’t have to walk off the sidewalk into the busy streets to avoid the oncoming surge of pedestrians!! I texted one of my ex-colleagues: “There are fewer tourists from mainland China because of the economic downturn there,” he explained.“Elsewhere in the world, too, the economies are not doing well.”
True, I thought. Many nations, including Malaysia, have not really recovered from the after-effects of the Covid-19 pandemic.
So, I took a leisurely walk to the harbour, not before stopping by the iconic Mister Softee, a white, red and blue ice cream truck with Blue Danube blaring from its speakers. I was sure glad these vans were still dotted around the territory in touristy spots and people were still queuing for their ice cream. I, too, got myself an ice cream cone and as I savoured every mouthful, my eyes wandering around …so few people, yet again. “It is the timing,” my ex-colleagues kept reminding me. “You are going out during non-peak hours.”
Where Are the Long Queues…?
But not so long ago, there was no such thing as peak and non-peak hours in Hong Kong. It seemed that every day and night, you can see people spilling onto the streets, darting here and there, walking so fast as if they had somewhere important to go, or they were just wandering around, in droves.
Even the queues for buses and trains – where shoppers would be lugging their overloaded shopping bags – were notably absent. This took me back to the time when I first arrived in Hong Kong in the late 1980s.
While I was queuing for the minibus to go to work, an elderly man cut in front of me, and I protested. He turned to me, wagged his finger and said in a loud angry voice:
“There is a space here between you and this woman. So, I came to stand here. If you don’t close the space, other people will get in here. This is Hong Kong. You must stand closer.” (A kind woman in the queue interpreted his Cantonese rant for me)
At the time I thought…where in Malaysia did we stand shoulder to shoulder, or breathe down each others’ necks when we were lining up.
Then I realised…this was Hong Kong where space was constrained and sheer numbers of people found here make queuing a way of life. Long lines were not only found at bus stops and trains, they were also a common feature at restaurants and eateries.
However, during this trip, the long queues at bus and train stops as well as at eating outlets seem to have disappeared.
After devouring my ice cream and reminiscing about queues, I continued my walk to the harbour front. It was a cool evening, despite it being summer. With such nice weather I was expecting see scores of tourists as well as locals at the waterfront. Again, I was disappointed.
I looked at the harbour and across the waters as the lights of the tall buildings on Hong Kong island slowly lit up, one by one. I must admit Hong Kong has one of the most beautiful skylines in Asia, whether seen from the Peak, on the island, or from the Kowloon harbour side.
It was after 7 pm, by now people would be “booking” their space at the waterfront to ensure they get a clear view of the 8 pm nightly show, called “Symphony of the Lights” where key buildings on both Hong Kong Island and Kowloon, will participate with music and laser light displays. But the crowds are missing.
I had remembered, some 20 years ago, whenever I brought family or friends to the harbour front to catch the light show, we would be there by 7 pm to ensure we get a vantage spot. “So early?”, they would complain.
Are the changes within me?
At the waterfront, I willed myself to feel that energy, the “can-do” spirit that embodied Hong Kong…that energy that first drew me to say “yes!” to the first job offered to me decades ago (although the salary was way lower than I had wanted).
I just could not feel it now. When I called up one of my sisters to complain about the lack of “oomph” in Hong Kong, she exclaimed: “Whaaat? Are you crazy? You miss all that crowd, the noise, the long queues…? Perhaps you are looking at the wrong places or perhaps, the change is within yourself.”
The next day I continued my search for that elusive Hong Kong energy. So, I decide to check out the flea markets…the famed Mong Kok’s Ladies’ Market, the Temple Street Night Market and
my very own “alternative” flea market and of course, the iconic Star Ferry…a one-time favourite of tourists far and wide. Here’s what I found:
a) There were few tourists at the Mong Kong Ladies market…yet again. The vendors are now mostly run by the Hong Kongers themselves instead of the mainland women they’d hire…the shirt-pulling, arm-grabbing women, who would yell after you…”How muchie, how muchie? You want how many?” I must admit I don’t miss these aggressive women…this was the only silver lining I found there.
b) The Nepalese vendors, who usually sat on the sidewalk with their wares displayed on large carpets, have just been obliterated from the Temple Street Night market.
c) The “fortune-telling” street was still there, the tents were still there but the fortune-tellers were nowhere in sight.
d) Worse, the actual Temple Street market seemed to have shrunk in size. An ex-colleague tells me that the vendors now would start closing by 9 pm or 10 pm, depending on the number of visitors.
e) The ride on the Star Ferry, which plies from the business district of Central on Hong Kong island and Tsim Sha Tsui, and vice versa, offers breathtaking views of either side of Victoria Harbour. But, sadly, there were very few passengers. In fact, there were more lifejackets on board than passengers!
But the most shocking thing of all was just how early restaurants and other eating establishments closed. I was having a meal with some friends at a fairly upmarket restaurant when the waiter came up to ask us for our last orders – it was only 9 pm.
Looking at my shocked expression, one of my friends explained: “People are now going across the border to cities, like Shenzhen, if they wanted to eat out. Much cheaper over there. Don’t forget, the economy here in Hong Kong is also facing a downturn.”
Two Homes Sweet Homes
On the night before my departure from Hong Kong, I found myself again sitting on the steps of the Hong Kong Arts and Cultural Centre and looking across the harbour towards the lights on Hong Kong island. I felt confused and a little sad. Where was the bustling Hong Kong that I knew? Where was that lively, energy that I longed for?
I just could not feel it. I head back to pack, puzzled, bewildered and feeling a bit let-down.
As I sat in the airplane the next day as it taxi-ed down the runway for take-off to Kuala Lumpur, my sister’s words echoed in my ears. She could be right…I am not the person I used to be…maybe the changes are within me. I am now much older, though not necessarily wiser. I am now slower in many ways, and the energy I was looking for in Hong Kong was actually the energy I was looking for within myself. Hong Kong did not lose its “can-do” spirit. It was slowly bouncing back, as it always did, from the political upheavals and the Covid-19 pandemic.
“We will be fine…we always come back stronger,” an ex-colleague reassures me as we bade farewell the night before.
I looked out of the window of the plane to see the Hong Kong skyline slowly disappear from sight, and I suddenly felt a surge of energy and a yearning for the sight, sounds and smells of Malaysia – my “first” kampung.
How lucky I am, I thought. I have “two” kampungs. They may disappoint sometimes or make me extremely happy at other times. I am just lucky to have “two kampungs” to go home to…but now, I have lots to delve into and explore within myself on these enthralling matters.
Betsy May Veloo is a self-confessed Malaysian Hong Konger who spent a considerable length of time in “Fragrant Harbour”
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