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Keeping Ukrainian culture alive

Reporters: Charley Ho Cheuk Ying, Roy Ng Po Shing, Erica Hwang Seowoo, Daniel Paek Kieon

Editor: Lorraine Chiang Lok Wing

Ukrainian artists run workshops and concerts to keep their culture alive, as cultural hearitage sites are under attack.

Home Sweet Home – Editor’s Note

Troubled by personal issues, mental illness and economic difficulties, street sleepers are struggling to find shelters in parks, tunnels and bridges. In the periscope section, Varsity reporters zoom into the lives of homeless people to find out what difficulties they are facing when living on the streets.

Some homeless manage to restructure their life and are preparing for the Homeless World Cup 2024 in September. Led by a female team manager, the team of male footballers are doing weekly training for the big game.

Starting from campus stories, some students in China start doing nail business in their dormitory. A group of Hong Kong students are working hard to promote tchoukball in the city. Some university students from China have formed a platform to help other students arrange dating partners.

In Hong Kong, Varsity reporters explore how independent bookstores survive in Hong Kong, and how volunteers in the city gather leftover bread from bakeries and redistribute them to the needy. Reporters also speak to elderly ballet dancers, and virtual YouTubers in Hong Kong.

In China, musicals featuring women’s stories are gaining popularity, and a television program is helping families to find their lost loved ones.

In the context of war worldwide, Varsity reporters interview Ukrainian artists and Vietnam veterans who use different media to convey messages of peace. Burmese students leave their home country to avoid mandatory conscription order. 

No man is an island. As conflicts arise around the world, we witness the ripple effects in our own surroundings. In this issue of Varsity, we hope to take you on a journey, starting from where we are, to observe the ongoing changes happening around us.

Enjoy your read!

Kamun Lai

Managing Editor

Introducing Tchoukball

Hong Kong university students play tchoukball and hope for more support to develop the sport.

By Daniel Koong

Out of his passion for the sport, Adrian Ip Tsun-hei set up the first tchoukball team for the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK) to promote this niche sport in Hong Kong. 

“I started playing tchoukball while studying in secondary school. I used to play football like everyone else but then I suffered from a serious leg injury. Then I  considered if I should continue playing sports that might cause injuries and stop me from improving my athletic ability,” the Sports Science and Physical Education major says.

“I am lucky to have the opportunity to play this sport. It gives me a sense of excitement, and it doesn’t require physical contact as other sports like rugby,” Ip adds.

Adrian Ip Tsun-hei suffered an injury while playing football, leading to irregular bone growth in his knee, which pushed him to pursue a non-contact sport instead.

Tchoukball is a sport invented by the Swiss biologist Hermann Brandt in the 1960s. After seeing many athletes suffer from serious injuries in competitive sports, he believed modern sports should have educational value and contribute to building a well-developed human society. 

Brandt created this non-contact sport, inspired by handball, volleyball and squash. It could be played outdoors, indoors and also on the beach. 

The size of tchoukball is similar to handball but more grippy and sweat-resistant so players do not need to play with resins on their hands. 

The court is the same size as a basketball court but with two tchoukball frames and two three-metre D’s drawn up at each baseline. Only kneepads are needed. 

Each team consists of three to seven players and takes turns to attack. They aim to throw the ball to the rebounder and make it bounce outside of a certain area without letting the defenders catch it. The name tchoukball comes from the sound when the ball rebounds off the frame.

“I am a Year One student and found no tchoukball team at CUHK. So I decided to be the first one to set it up. I have passion, and I want to contribute more to the sport,” the 20-year-old player says.

“But the process has not been easy. I had to start everything from scratch. It took me around half a year and I had to overcome many obstacles,” he points out. 

Adrian Ip Tsun-hei believes tchoukball being unpopular in Hong Kong made it harder for him to get support to set up the team.

“About 30 members are required to start a team and it takes me a lot of time to gather the people. This sport is not well-known, and I want to find people who are genuinely passionate about it,” Ip adds. 

Ip secured support from the Physical Education Unit Department in setting up a tchoukball team, providing some resources they needed. 

“But we still need to book and set up the field every time by ourselves. As we are using a basketball court, we need to arrive half an hour earlier to set it up,” the CUHK tchoukball team captain says.

Timon Chong Yui-chung is a player from the EdUHK tchoukball team, a team which Ip wants his team to play against. 

“I will not see the establishment of CUHK tchoukball as a threat. Instead, I am glad to see that tchoukball is developing in universities and even in Hong Kong,” the EdUHK tchoukball team player says.

“We also call it ‘gentleman ball’ in Chinese. Any physical contact is considered a foul. Penalties will be given for any act of roughing, tackling or tripping,” he adds. 

“But the sport is not boring. Unlike other non-contact sports like badminton or tennis, players share a court with the opponent team. We need to shoot within three passes and the possession can switch instantly,” Chong says.

Timon Chong Yui-chung attends three-hour training sessions twice weekly for the EdUHK tchoukball team. (Photo courtesy of Timon Chong Yui-chung).

Arthur Li Ho-cheung is the current head coach for the Hong Kong tchoukball team. He studied at EdUHK and is now studying for a master’s degree in Psychology at CUHK. 

“I came to the Hong Kong Institute of Education (now EdUHK) in 2013 and they also set up the tchoukball team that year. At that time tchoukball teams were set up at three tertiary education institutions,” Li says.

“Now more universities are having tchoukball organisations, a club or a team. But it is a pity that not every team works well,” he adds. 

“Many teams are set up by groups of like-minded enthusiasts coming together. Without sufficient policy and financial support, it is difficult to sustain operating a team in the long run,” Li says.

Apart from running the Hong Kong team, Li is helping out in holding different tchoukball competitions.

“To get government approval for the sport, we need to hold at least three championships in the next five years. We will be holding the Asia Pacific Tchoukball Championship this year,” Lee says.

“We need to book the pitch and organise everything by ourselves. And what I often need to do is to communicate with the government and get permission. We need to apply for changing the use of the sports centre as it is not built for playing tchoukball,” he adds. 

“There are three main goals in the future. The first goal is tchoukball being officially recognised. The second goal is to get more resources so we can promote the sport in the community. The third goal is to achieve a higher world ranking for both men’s team and ladies,” he says.

Edited by Liam Hordijk

Sub-edited by Lorraine Chiang

Homeless Football Team

A football team in Hong Kong composed of homeless individuals who participate in international tournaments and overcome challenges through football.

By Charley Ho, Roy Ng & Daniel Paek

Saphire Ho Hoi-ting is leading a group of male football players who are former drug addicts and gamblers to get ready for the Homeless World Cup 2024, which will be held in Korea in September, the first time for the game to be held in Asia.

“The team has started training since April last year. We meet every Tuesday and Friday night to do training and each session lasts for two hours,” Ho, who works in the fashion business, says.

“As team players, they have to show a good attitude and fulfil the attendance requirements.  Players must join at least 80% of the training sessions,” she adds.

Founded in 2001, the Homeless World Cup Foundation hosts the sports event every year. This year,  nearly 50 teams will take part in the week-long tournament at Hanyang University in Seoul. 

Unlike World Cup matches, each game has two halves of seven minutes with a one-minute interval in between each half. 

The team manager says it is important to be friendly but firm when managing the football team. 

“There are two sides of my management: the soft side and the tougher side. I talk to them and check on them. But when it comes to the players’ responsibilities, I tell them strictly about the rules, expectations and the importance of punctuality,” she says. 

“When there are problems in the team, I prefer talking to them directly by WhatsApp messages, phone calls and even fact-to-face chat. I try to show my support for them and encourage them,” the manager says. 

Ho shares gender is not an issue when dealing with a team of men and stresses building trust is the key. 

“I find it easier to work with men as there is a lot less gossip. I can also communicate with them in a more straightforward manner. Trust is a complex thing, especially as a woman working with a group of men. It takes practice for me to show my care for them,” she says.

Without any training in social work and counselling, Ho sometimes has to seek help from others when dealing with issues related to the team. 

“The biggest challenge I find in managing the team is handling players’ emotions, as they have different backgrounds and stories. I try my best to understand them more by chatting with them,” Ho says. 

“The previous team manager comes from a social worker background. But I don’t have such training, so sometimes I seek help from volunteers and social workers,” she adds.

The manager has overcome challenges by her passion and love for soccer and the team. 

Ho has always shared a great passion for sports. She is a former freelance sports commentator for Cable TV. She learnt about the Hong Kong team through a friend.  

“Sports have changed players’ lives. When I see them engaging in training, I think sports have helped them a lot…I remember a mother who shared that football helped her son to get back on his saddle again…what she said made me feel so touched,” she says.

“I think football is a magical thing. It requires teamwork and it helps show people’s real personality, facilitate their communication and enhance friendship. It grooms teamwork spirit, discipline and positive attitude,” she adds. 

The manager hopes people can be more understanding and compassionate when they come across the homeless in the city and appeals for support to the Hong Kong team.

 “We need to understand their situation. Sometimes I also wonder why they resort to drugs and gambling, but perhaps sometimes things just happen. I hope Hong Kong people will support our Hong Kong team. And I hope that people who don’t know much about the homeless make an effort to learn more about them ,” she says.

Edited by Perry Kwok

Silver Swans on Stage

A group of seniors with no prior ballet experience performed a ballet show.

By Hanne Chan

Dressing in leggings and ballet skirts, a group of silver-haired dancers marked the end of a ballet performance with energetic smiles and an ending pose in the ‘fourth position’ — one foot placed in front of the other with both feet turned out to the sides.

Most of the 41 dancers did not have any ballet and dancing experience before stepping onto the stage at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre on 31st March, including 57-year-old Ann Cheung.

Ballet cheered Cheung with energy. “It makes me feel my moves lighter and look elegant,” she says.

Cheung had never danced ballet, not until she joined the Silver Ballet Camp held by Hong Kong Ballet (HK Ballet).

Held between March 29 and 31, the three-day camp enabled people aged above 55 without ballet experience to learn simple choreography with HK Ballet instructors. On the last day, they performed Swan Lake, the most popular ballet of all time, in front of their families and friends. 

As a businesswoman about to retire, Cheung joined the camp because she wanted to try something new, “The world is so big, why not explore every possibility it holds!” 

“I feel a hundred percent at ease with the help of our teachers, even if I count the beats wrong I can still catch up with their demonstration,” she says.

“I used to think that ballet is difficult and beyond reach from my daughter’s ballet experience and the ballet shows I watched— I believe this is a common misconception (in society),” she says.

The experienced HK Ballet instructors make it easy for Cheung and other participants. “They got us to focus on stretching and better body posture rather than mastering difficult movements like ballet kicks,” she explains.

Overcoming her past presumptions, Cheung finds ballet fun and chill. 

“Turns out it is not as difficult as I imagine, even people from different age groups are able to learn ballet. It is not a must to do a split or other difficult move, just try first and have fun!” she says. 

Cheung believes she will continue practicing ballet, “I get some bad habits on body posture when working and using my phone. I think ballet reminds me to maintain a proper posture, and stretching warm-ups are good for my health as well. I will take it as a sport to do.” 

A spotlight was cast on Chan Jim-waa, another zero-based dancer, during the group dance performance.

Being the only male in the group garnered a lot of audience attention, but the 63-year-old did not appear nervous. 

“Not only in this ballet class, but among all the past activities I joined in community centres, men are always the minority, so I have been used to it, ” he says.

Chan points out there are gender stereotypes about certain activities, including ballet, “Men may think that this kind of activity is a ‘women’s thing’ and not that suitable for men. Men would usually refuse to try it out,” 

“But I don’t think so. Retired men should also come out and have fun! Once you are willing to take the first step, you may discover things that bring you joy and fulfillment.” he adds.

Feeling happy about his performance, Chan says, “It brings me pride. One day, I can tell my grandson that his grandpa was once in HK ballet, in the first Silver Ballet Camp, and performed in the Hong Kong Cultural Centre. I can even show off my certificate!”

“It used to be my daughter dancing ballet but now I’ve found my inner child. It’s my turn to do ballet,” Chan jokes.

Half a year before the camp, Chan sustained a herniated disc in his lower back that he could not even walk and was admitted to the hospital.

“I have now recovered, yet it kind of gives me mental pressure that it will recur right before our performance,” he adds.

Despite all the worries, Chan performed on the big day with heartfelt happiness.

“There are things that you may never get the opportunity to try again, and that’s why I always embrace the chance to try things I’ve never experienced before, wholeheartedly, ” he says.

Chan believes that age does not matter when it comes to chasing dreams. 

“Perhaps each of us has our unfinished dreams, so why don’t we just try and chase after them? What matters is living with no regrets,” he says.

“Retirement is not the end, but an exciting beginning of living life to the fullest,” he adds., 

His belief is very similar to the motto of the ballet camp – ‘Joyful learning, ageless delight’. 

“Age is not the main concern when we do ballet. Many may believe that ballet should be taken up at three, but in fact a lot of people start learning ballet in their adulthood. Rather than age, one’s talent, passion, physical and mental condition matters more in ballet,” Vency Kwok Man-si, Senior Education & Community Outreach Manager at HK Ballet says.

Vency Kwok Man-si (front left) and participants interacting with the audience during the performance. (Photo Courtesy of Hong Kong Ballet)

“We do silver ballet for those who always want to dance ballet, but don’t get any opportunities to do it when they are young,” Kwok says.

Kwok notes HK Ballet have consulted The Chinese University of Hong Kong Dance Medicine Research Clinic for elderly-appropriate ballet movements.

“When I first met the camp participants, I emphasized that safety comes first. If you feel you are unable to keep up with our kicks or bends, don’t force yourself to do it,” she says.

As one of the dance instructors in the camp, Kwok holds the Silver Swans License from the Royal Academy of Dance, which certifies her to deliver safe and inclusive ballet classes for adults over 55. 

“Teaching elderly is actually similar to teaching children. Instead of professional language, I use simple wordings to let participants easily remember the movements. For example, when they are waving their hand towards the left side, I tell them ‘the wind blows to the left’, ” she says. 

Kwok says the camp is magical. “Among the 41 participants, only four have dancing experience, but all of them managed to learn and perform the whole routine, including a one-minute group dance in just three days!” 

Participants performing a group dance
(Photo Courtesy of Hong Kong  Ballet
)

She adds that she was touched by her enthusiastic ‘senior students’. 

“Especially for a participant who struggled with coordination and performed in the front row, she was able to dance at last. Overwhelmed with joy, she kept saying ‘I did it’ while hugging the instructors,” she recalls.

“Another participant brought her whole family to watch the performance. Usually, we only reserved two seats for participants’ families and friends, but she bought three extra tickets for her family, including her daughter and her mother. With three generations gathering together, her mother even said that they can join the camp together next time,” she adds.

To spread the healthy and heartwarming energy, HK Ballet will continue to hold silver ballet activities in the future. 

“We will do the camp again. Definitely! ” Kwok says.

Edited by Charlotte Wu

Sub-edited by Lilac Ye

Home Sweet Home

The homeless struggle to live as their belongings and living space are stripped away by the government.

By Charley Ho, Roy Ng & Daniel Paek

Sleeping in Tung Chau Park in Sham Shui Po, Ah Bing stays alert for her belongings every day after all her belongings were dumped as rubbish by government contractor cleaners in 2019. 

The 60-year-old homeless woman is angry that everything she had was taken away. “There was no prior notice, and all my clothes were suddenly treated as rubbish. Most of my belongings disappeared,” she says.

“I am extremely sad about losing the clothes that my sister gave me before she passed away. Every time I mention it, it makes my heart ache,” the street sleeper who prefers to be addressed as Ah Bing adds.

On the eve of the 2019 Winter Solstice, homeless people sleeping in Tung Chau Street Park in Sham Shui Po, had their belongings confiscated and discarded by the Leisure and Cultural Services Department and were evicted by riot police in an anti-crime operation.

One of them was Ah Bing. Together with eight other homeless people, they took the government to court and each received HK$100 (US$12.78) in compensation after two and a half years. The court ruled that the government had failed to properly handle their belongings during the park clearance operation. 

Despite the favourable ruling, no apology to any of the homeless people has been issued.

The Small Claims Tribunal later also rejected an appeal regarding the amount of compensation, ruling that the adjudicator is not required to make unnecessary inquiries into the issue of mental distress.

The Court ruled that the plaintiffs failed to prove their actual losses from the clearance operation, upholding that HK$100 (US$12.78) was a suitable amount for symbolic compensation on July 21, 2022. 

Street sleepers not only risk having their possessions taken away, some homeless even face forceful eviction.

Sleeping under a bridge, Chi Goh, 62, now struggles not just to keep his possessions but his spot on the street. He is forced to stay about 100 metres away from a subway where he used to sleep, as fences are installed in the Cherry Street Subway in Tai Kok Tsui.

A section of Cherry Street Subway was blocked with fences due to “maintenance work”, according to a notice jointly issued by seven government departments on March 15, 2024.

Fences in the Cherry Street Subway in Tai Kok Tsui have been installed for “maintenance work”, which prevents the homeless from living there.

The Yau Tsim Mong District Office says it received numerous complaints about the accumulation of miscellaneous items leading to obstructions, environmental hygiene problems, and public safety concerns. Renovation and beautification works on the affected section are expected to be completed this summer.

The Social Welfare Department says it coordinated outreach service teams to visit and assist the affected homeless before blocking the subway and on the day of the blockage. They also advised the homeless to access assistance services. 

While facing forced eviction by government action, Chi Goh finds it hard to find affordable housing.

As a freelance driver, his monthly income is unstable, ranging between HK$10,000 and HK$29,000 (US$1,279 to US$3,711). 

According to the current public rental housing policy, a one-person household cannot earn more than HK$12,940 (US$1,656) per month and has a net asset over HK$286,000 (US$36,566) to be eligible for public housing.  

“The government traces my annual income from the past, and the amount has exceeded the limit…  But I can’t afford to stop working for a year just to apply for a public housing unit. It’s unrealistic. I don’t expect anything from the government. I’d rather rely on myself. They have their heads in the clouds,” he says, adding he has to cover his other living expenses.

Chi Goh has moved his tent and possessions onto the Cherry Street Bridge after fences have been placed in the subway.

And he does not want to reveal his plight to his family. “I don’t want my son to know about my situation and I don’t want to bother my son who is now in a relationship,” he adds.

Social worker Ng Wai-tung, a community organiser at the Society for Community Organisation, points out that many street sleepers are unwilling to take legal action or engage in dialogue with government officials to solve their problems.

“They don’t want their families to find out they are street sleepers. They are worried that their identities might be exposed if their court cases or meetings with the government are reported by the media,” Ng says.

Having helped the homeless in the city for more than 20 years, Ng says they have very limited housing options, and social welfare support for them is inadequate.  

“The cheapest sub-divided flats cost HK$4,000 (US$512) a month in rent, while cubicle apartments with shared bathrooms cost at least HK$2,000 (US$256). The price per square foot is among the most expensive, while the living conditions are the worst. The flats are stuffy, noisy, and infested with fleas,” Ng says.

“The number of homeless people has doubled since 2014, yet the government has only increased the number of temporary shelters and hostels by 10%. There are about 1,470 homeless people now,” he adds.

Ng notes that many temporary shelters are located in remote sites with limited access to public transport, and the homeless are also worried about security issues in the shelters such as theft due to the lack of lockers.

Ng also points out that only less than half of the homeless are receiving Comprehensive Social Security Assistance. “They generally want to make a living on their own and don’t want to bother others. I hope this vulnerable group will soon be destigmatised, and that Hong Kong will become a compassionate community,” he says.

Edited by Lorraine Chiang

The Journey of a Young Fighter

Chen Tze-kin shares his journey with a rare disease on his YouTube channel to inspire others.

By Winnie Li

Suffering from a rare disease, Noddy Chen Tsz-kin cannot wear clothes by himself and even a smartphone is too heavy for the 15-year-old to hold.  

The illness Chen has is Duchenne muscular dystrophy, which causes progressive muscle fibre degeneration and weakness.

“I need my mum’s help to wear my clothes,” says Chen, who was diagnosed with the sickness when he was only one year old.

“I have to leave home 20 minutes earlier so that I can arrive at school on time because the nearest MTR exit has no lift with it,” the Form Three student says.

Tsz-kin with his mum in a charity funding event (Photo courtesy of Chen Tze-kin)

Despite his disability, Chen leads a very busy life with his studies and YouTube channel.  

His channel “Snail Tszkin”, launched in 2020 so far has 15.6 thousands followers. 

“I name the channel snail because every move I make is slow like a snail,” he says. 

Chen does all the script writing, shooting, and editing by himself, and it takes him about six to seven hours to prepare a five-minute-long video. 

The secondary school student shares his daily life as a disabled person in his channel, hoping to encourage others who suffer from disabilities like him to lead a happy and fruitful life. 

“I started thinking of being a YouTuber after joining an ultramarathon in Gobi Desert in 2018. I want to tell people that a lot of things are possible through my YouTube channel,” Chen says.

Tsz-kin doing sharing in school about his story (Photo courtesy of Chen Tze-kin)

Chen went to the Gobi Desert and Kyrgyzstan to join ultramarathon competitions in 2018 and 2019 with Wheel for Oneness (WFO), which helps the disabled to join marathons.

Since the whole journey was video recorded, Chen started to get used to camera shooting.

“Me and my mum have never thought of going to the desert. I was very excited when I knew that I had the chance to join the trip,” Chen recalls adding that when he joined the competition he was nine.

During the competition, Chen recalls he and his teammates came across a dune as tall as the International Finance Centre (IFC) in Hong Kong, which is 412 metres tall, during the long march in the Gobi Desert.

“A team of 40 carried me with a rickshaw. It was a challenge to go up the dune, but we decided to do it rather than picking another route,” Chen recalls.

“We wanted to show our determination to overcome difficulties along the way in the desert. We did not want to give up easily. We should try to deal with them,” he says.

Tsz-kin with the team in Gobi Desert (Photo courtesy of Chen Tze-kin)

Apart from the ultramarathon, Chen joined an activity “Dreams2Gather” held by the Adolescent Medical Centre of Queen Elizabeth Hospital in 2013, which helps disabled children make their wishes come true. 

“Although I’m affected by the disease, it doesn’t limit me from exploring the world,” Chen says.

Thanks to the help of the centre, Chen took a helicopter ride to see the scenery of Victoria Harbour.  He met Steve Ma Chun Wai, a Hong Kong singer and shared his thoughts at human library Lingnan University with other disabled children who joined Dreams2Gather.

“Since my life is shorter than others, I don’t want to spend my time feeling sad. I want to explore the world. There are a lot of people leaving me supportive messages on my channel. They also have helped shape who I am now,” Chen says.

Chen also wants to help others despite his condition. 

“Sometimes I do sharing sessions in school. I receive help from others, and I want to help others by spreading positive vibes in life. I don’t think doing nothing is a choice.  We should explore our interests instead of giving up,” he says. 

Chen also joined a course “Jin Ngo” in Chinese last year, which means “show me”. It is a speech course arranged by Hong Kong Rehabilitation Power, an NGO that helps the disabled to find jobs.

Chen is interested in doing speeches because he thinks that it is similar to running his YouTube channel and sharing about himself.

“I think it is more powerful to communicate with others face-to-face than sharing through videos, so I want to do more speeches in the future,” Chen says.

Edited by Jasmine Lam

Sub-edited by Nicole Li

Survival of Hong Kong Independent Bookstore

Independent bookstores in Hong Kong offering unique collections and beyond.

By Mike Chu

Independent bookstore owner Dexter Tse woos customers with his comprehensive selection of books about Hong Kong history.

Tse is the owner of Lion Ink Bookstores. Lion Ink is a member of “ABookClub”, which is composed of smaller bookstores in the city. Each bookstore has its own niche collection of books focusing on one theme. 

“As people have been getting more interested in the history of Hong Kong recently, I want to provide Hong Kong history book lovers with a rich selection of books on the subject to cater to their needs,” says Tse, who studied history at university. 

Tse, who has been running his bookstore for two years, tries to offer something that mainstream bookstores cannot provide.

“Compared to mainstream bookstores, independent bookstores are more focused on the process of book curation,” he says. 

The store is located in an attic in a private flat on Tai Nan Street. 

“We have limited space to store books so independent bookstores are selective with their collections featuring a particular theme,” Tse says.

Apart from limited space, another challenge for Tse is sourcing books. 

“Books we source from Taiwan are sometimes held for inspection by the Hong Kong Customs for a few months before we can take them back,” Tse says, adding that it usually happens around July and October. 

“By the time the books are returned to us, we miss the best-selling period for new Taiwan books, as customers have already bought them online,” he says. 

Apart from selling books, Tse also hopes he can provide some public space for residents nearby. 

Tse is not alone in creating unique experiences for readers in independent bookstores. 

Sharon Chan, who runs Mellow Out in Kwun Tong, organizes events ranging from author sharing to boxing classes for customers. 

Mellow Out, an independent bookstore in Kwun Tong. (Photo courtesy of Mike Chu)
Mellow Out does not only sell books, but also hold events. (Photo courtesy of Mike Chu)

“I live here and I feel like Kwun Tong is lacking a place for people to gather around and have fun,” Chan says. 

The most memorable event for Chan was a dog adoption event in June 2023. “It was really funny to watch puppies running around inside a bookstore. It was quite a unique experience,” she recalls. 

Still, the ultimate goal for Chanisto is to encourage people to buy books at her store. “By holding events here, I hope people can take a look at the books too and perhaps buy some of them,” the bookstore owner adds.

Chan also wants to connect authors and readers by hosting meet-and-greet sessions. “They can have face-to-face chats to exchange their thoughts and ideas more,” Chan adds. 

Traces of Books, located in Fortress Hill, does not sell or lend books to others. While it sounds odd at first, the owner just wants to offer readers a place to read. 

Traces of books, located in a half-empty mall. (Photo courtesy of Mike Chu)

“I believe books can heal people’s souls. So I want my bookstore to be a place where people can experience this power,” bookstore owner Map Tang, who is also a social worker, says.


All categories of books can be found in Traces of Books. (Photo courtesy of Mike Chu)

No staff is deployed at the store, as Tang wants visitors to enjoy solitude when reading.

“My store cannot accommodate many people. It is like a mini town hall for people who just gather around and read, and maybe even chat,” Tang says. 

Tang is not optimistic about the future of other independent bookstores. Many bookstores have ceased operation recently, with Mellow Out announcing they will close their physical store in Kwun Tong due to “violation of the building’s rule”. 

“This is a new Hong Kong, and we have to get used to it and move on with our life. We still have a long way to go,” Tang says. 

Edited By Perry Kwok

Sub-edited by Cynthia Hu

Rescuing leftover Bread for the Needy

NGO redistributes leftover bread which might end up in landfill to the needy.

By Alexia Leung and Pauline Yau

Carrying bags full of baked goods on their shoulders, volunteers collect surplus bread from bakeries in Wan Chai to help people in need every Friday. One of them is Sachin Mital, who shares that it is the rightful act to offer a hand.

The volunteers of an NGO, Breadline, pick up leftover bread from bakeries on Hong Kong Island and in Kowloon at closing time and distribute it to those in need across the city. 

“I do this because I think it is my moral responsibility and obligation–not even a choice. If I have the privilege of not worrying about where or when my next meal will come from… I think this is the least I can do to play even the smallest part to minimize someone else’s suffering,” says the management trainee at the University of Hong Kong.

“I had just finished my tutoring and immediately left so I could reach here! We come every Friday night to pick up (bread) from Causeway Bay and go back to Tsim Sha Tsui to distribute them,” he says.

Mital adds that he also tries to invite others to join. 

“I shared the charity work I do in some community groups at the University of Hong Kong. One of my friends who tried this quite liked it. Even when not volunteering, I am more attentive and try to provide food or water (to the homeless) wherever I can,” he says. 

Another volunteer, Adrian Wong On-hing, starts volunteering after learning about the project from a friend.

 “I just hope to do whatever I can to help the charity so that more homeless people can be supported,” he says. 

 “Usually my Fridays are for resting, but now I go to the charity. I think the time spent on charity work is negligible considering the difficult conditions homeless people face,” the sixteen-year-old student says. 

Wong shares that volunteer work makes him treasure what he has more. 

“I believe the experience makes me more mindful. Wasting food makes me feel guilty, as now I know I have the luxury of wasting it while others have a hard time getting it. It is quite heartbreaking when I am having fun while there are people starving in the cold,” Wong says.

Mital and Wong are two of the 1,500 volunteers of Breadline, which has helped give new life to over 350,000 loaves of bread since 2020.

Collaborating with over 170 bakery and cake branches such as Maxim’s, Yamazaki, and Saint Honore, the NGO served over 160,000 breakfasts for those in need in 2023.

With the help of the charity group’s crowdsourcing app, volunteers connect with bakeries to pick up leftover bread so that food waste can be avoided and people in need can be supported. 

Currently, there are four drop-off points for the bread gathered from bakeries: Causeway Bay, Tsim Sha Tsui, Hang Hou, and Sheung Wan. Volunteers from different charities such as Hanuman Charity, Grassroots Future, Refugee Union, and Impact HK then collect the bread gathered by volunteers and distribute it to the underprivileged, including refugees, the homeless, and low-income families.

Breads are packed into boxes by drop-off points managers.

To ensure food safety, only bread without filling is collected for redistribution. 

“Pastries like cream roll cakes and cocktail buns are not wanted because they easily expire. Bread for redistribution must be individually packaged. Often, there are ten to thirty pieces of baked products left in this bakery,” a salesperson at one of the Saint Honore branches says. 

Breadline volunteers try their best to care for the underprivileged. 

Wong Fook-hing, who has been volunteering as a drop-off point manager in Causeway Bay for four years, takes the volunteers’ attendance, puts the bread into boxes, and redistributes the bread to volunteers from different charities.

“I bought these plastic boxes (which are used for packing bread) using my own money because I want to make sure their dignity is respected. The people who receive these breads are already in poor shape, so I just thought, why not give it our best and care a little bit more,” he says. 

According to the Environmental Protection Department, Hong Kong throws away 3,200 tonnes of food daily to landfills. Meanwhile, 20% of Hong Kong people live in poverty and experience hunger in their daily lives, figures from the Census and Statistic Department reveals. 

Hanuman Charity, one of Breadline’s partners, helps distribute the collected bread to the homeless.

Breads are distributed to the homeless.

“Breadline has been instrumental in supporting our NGO by providing us with edible bread that we can distribute to our regular recipients. This allows those who are homeless or the underprivileged to have access to food when they are hungry,”  Naveen Sadhwani, founder of Hanuman Charity, says. 

“Currently, our NGO has up to ten volunteers to help distribute bread and regular meal bags we prepare,” he adds. 

Breadline’s founder,  Daisy Tam Dic-sze, shares that it is important to cater to the special needs of different needy groups.  

“We try to find individually wrapped bread, which is more hygienic for redistribution, especially for the homeless, and also soft bread for the elderly,” she says.  

Tam is considering expanding her operation to cover the northern New Territories by adding a drop-off point and developing partnerships in the area. 

“We are exploring opportunities with a team of cyclists called iBikeHongKong to see if they could be a good match for collecting bread in the Sha Tin, Tai Wai, and Tai Po areas because they are linked with cycling lanes,” Tam says. 

*Names changed at interviewees’ request

Edited by Sunnie Wu

Subedited by Sean Pan

TV programme serves as missing persons units in China

CCTV programme helps families look for loved ones whom have been lost for years.

By Cathleena Zhu

Liu Linlin now lives with her parents in Inner Mongolia and spends festivals with them every year after being apart for 19 years. 

Liu was given to a worker 30 days after she was born by her birth parents at a construction site in Hunan Province in 2000 because of financial difficulties.

She was then adopted by Xiang Minghua, a housewife. The baby girl was just 50 days old.

“My adopted mother raised me like my birth mother,” says the 24-year-old university student.

Liu was diagnosed with parotid gland cancer when she was seven. After comparing the DNA in her treatment tests, she learned that Xiang was not her birth mother.

Parotid gland cancer is a malignant tumor occurring in the parotid gland. The size is generally three to five cm, and its tumor growth rate is fast.

“I felt scared and was in great pain when I had my cheek surgery, but I didn’t want my adopted mom to worry, so I didn’t cry,” Liu recalls.

Liu Linlin, the girl with parotid gland cancer. (Photo courtesy of Liu Linlin)

In 2019, Liu’s disease turned into terminal parotid gland cancer in a checkup and was informed that she had only two to three months to live. That made her want to look for her birth parents.

“I wanted an explanation from them. At the same time, I was curious about what my birth parents were like,” Liu says.

Her adoptive mother, Xiang Minghua, was hesitant about the idea.

“I struggled with whether we should look for her birth parents. I wanted their financial help to cover her medical expenses. But at the same time, I did not want to lose Linlin whom I treat like my biological child,” Xiang says.

“I would also like to say sorry to her biological parents for not being able to look after their daughter. Otherwise, I would live with guilt for the rest of my life,” Liu’s adoptive mother adds.

Liu and Xiang sought help from the China Central Television programme “Waiting for Me,” which helps families find missing loved ones.

Those who seek help from the TV programme have lost children who were abducted. Some of the children were abandoned by their parents, while some fled home because of family pressure.

Liu was helped by Li Qiyue, the head of the missing person team of the TV programme and one of the hosts.

“After receiving Liu’s case in December 2018, we released a short video about her on the TV programme’s website. More than 100 media outlets have since reposted it,” Li says.

“Netizens from Inner Mongolia, Henan, and Hubei provided us with information and clues after seeing the post about Liu,” she adds.

Police and volunteers also joined the search. Liu’s father, who used to work in Qingshan District, Hubei Province, was finally located after a 10-month search that lasted from the end of 2018 to October 2019. 

Liu refused to hug her birth parents when they first met.

“We didn’t force the girl to do anything. We respected her decision,” Li says.

“The most important thing is to give Liu care and understanding because children who did not grow up in their biological family are extremely insecure,” the TV host adds.

“Waiting for Me” programme recording scene. (Photo courtesy of Li Qiyue)

Liu gradually accepted her birth parents after spending a day with them.

Today, Liu’s condition has been controlled effectively after treatment with the programme’s donation fund. She is more optimistic about her life and her family on both sides.

“We have no excuse for our behavior. We shouldn’t have given up our child,” says Liu’s birth mother, expressing regret for her actions when interviewed by the TV programme for an episode aired in October 2019.

“We owe Xiang who raised my child,” the birth mother adds. 

With the help of the national anti-trafficking gene database, police in Qingsha District, and volunteers, “Waiting for Me” has reunited more than 8,000 families on average every year since the programme was first launched in 2014.

Chen Shiqu, deputy director of the Criminal Investigation Bureau of the Ministry of Public Security of China, who is also the investigation and management staff of the missing person team, says most human trafficking cases occur in Henan, Jiangsu, and Shandong.

“With years of separation, the information we get from help seekers might be wrong or incomplete, which makes it harder for us to search. Some families are still not reunited because of this,” Chen says.

Since 2008, China’s genetic database has been set up and is regularly updated to help match children who have been lost for years to find their biological parents.

Chen says the database has helped crack more than 90 percent of the cases.

“We have zero tolerance for human trafficking. Special attention should be paid to the protection of the rights and interests of minors,” he adds.

Edited by Sean Pan

Sub-edited by Ryan Teh