The Art of Protest – Politics Finds Artistic Expression in Hong Kong

January 10, 2013

Editor: Billy Leung
Reporters: Thee Lui, Caleb Ho, Lindy Wong, Vicki Yuen

In April 2011, Chinese political artist Ai Wei-wei was taken into custody by Beijing authorities. He was secretly detained for 81 days, sparking international outcry and protests in Hong Kong.

Ai’s detention seemed to galvanize artists in Hong Kong, who had been introducing political elements into their art works in recent years. His face began to appear on Hong Kong’s streets in Banksy-like graffiti.

Art Citizens was founded after Ai was detained. The group gathers artists to “fight against all kinds of ambiguous censorship towards artistic practice, and to develop different forms of expressions creatively”.

Founder, Kacey Wong-Kwok choi had been determined not to create politically-related works. That changed after Ai was arrested, but Wong still chooses humour to express his political views. For example, during the July 1^st protest last year, he called himself the “Real Cultural Bureau Chief” and steered a pink tank named the Cultural Bureau.

The suspicious death of the former June 4^th dissident and Hunan labour activist Li Wang-yang in June 2012 prompted another wave of protests. In one rally, protesters calling themselves “We are all Li Wang Yang”, tied white cloth over their eyes and read poems to mourn for Li, while others played music.

Kitty Hung Hiu-han was one of the organisers of the event and is an editor of the Chinese Literature magazine, Fleurs des Lettres. Hung’s preferred method of delivery for political messages is poetry as she believes it is a medium that manages to be both succinct and provides room for multiple interpretations..

Other artists choose other forms. Fong So, a former journalist who is now a Chinese painter, agrees with Aristotle that “Man is by nature a political animal”. He thinks it is important to tell the audience the truth, while they may interpret some more meanings than the artists overtly provide.

As a form of protest, art can take on many forms. It can be challenging and provocative and it can be subtle or direct. Unlike ‘conventional’ political protests and speeches, the art of protest is more abstract and ambiguous. It leaves room for audience to have different interpretations. Sometimes, the abstract nature of the work may mean it can avoid being censored heavily as the meanings may be too subtle to judge.

Historically, there has always been a relationship between art and politics. For some artists In Hong Kong, art has become a form of protest.

Singing in Sign

January 9, 2013

Editors: Kritzo Chan Reporters:Nicole Chan,Astina Ng,Yan Cheng, Stephanie Yee

Sign language songs help promote sign language, not harmony between deaf and hearing say Deaf advocates

On a Monday night, a group of people were practicing sign language songs at the YMCA Y’s Men’s Centre for the Deaf. Alongside music, there is expressive sign language incorporated to reinterpret a song.

Back in 2002, the YMCA has launched the first sign language song competition and constant sign language song workshops to welcome groups from both the hearing and the deaf to join, in an attempt to promote sign language, i.e., the culture of the deaf, to the hearing people, fostering a community of mercy and understanding.

They may perform different songs with various music genres chosen, like “Christmas is Coming to Town”, “It’s a Beautiful Day”, “Glorious Days”. With the lively sign language reinterpreted and the flow of music, participants could grasp the chance to express themselves in sign language via such artistic performance.

Nowadays, Hong Kongers become more aware of the culture of the deaf. With the help of the mass media, people are now more knowledgeable of what the deaf people are experiencing. Learning sign language songs is a vital way to introduce the hearing to the world of the deaf. The sign language song workshop is an effective medium in helping people to know more about the culture of the deaf. With the combination of music and sign language, people may now find it a more interesting way to learn sign language.

Added to the music and the sign language comes the dramatic body movement which can further facilitate the story-telling effect of sign language songs. The Hong Kong Sign Language Musical Theatre has been an illustrator of that. They have been using dance and rhythm of music to express a song in sign language to tell a story to both the hearing and deaf.

Despite the attempt to integrate the hearing and the deaf, sign language song itself has in turn cast disappointment on the deaf people. Initially, there were deaf people joining the sign language groups, however, now they have all quit as they cannot catch up with the rhythm of lyrics, or simply, they cannot hear well.

Throughout the whole process of learning the sign language songs, there are various expectations and thoughts among the learners. As some have suggested, they regard it as merely another kind of entertainment which excites them and makes them feel “happy”.

Ultimately, the goal of introducing sign language songs is to initiate a community with understanding and integration between the deaf and the hearing.

On the contrary, the two founders of Hong Kong Sign Language Association take a different view from the hearing. The deaf have a community with their own language and culture, which should be respected and understood by the hearing. They do not have to be integrated into the hearing community.

Neither should any side give way or give up anything for the merging—— two sides should have an equal footing with each other. Understand, respect and appreciate, is definitely the key to a real “integration”.

December 2012 – Our Place, Our Home

December 18, 2012

This issue of Varsity looks at the relationship some Hong Kongers have with the places they call home:

Many young Sheung Shui residents say they feel alienated from the place where they grew up since it became a parallel traders’ hub, but the new town they know is already a world away from the rural backwater Sheung Shui was just a few decades ago

Being down and out does not mean mean you have no dignity. Street-sleepers in Sham Shui Po tell Varsity about their life on the streets and the unwritten in their community

The residents of Choi Yuen Village fought an ultimately unsuccessful campaign to save their homes but they never lost their ties to the land. Now they are still striving to build a new village despite red-tape and delays

A Place Called Home

December 18, 2012

Home is, as they say, where the heart is and this issue of Varsity begins by looking at some of the places Hong Kongers call home.

An apparently spontaneous movement to “Reclaim Sheung Shui” in September highlighted the concerns that have been building up about the dramatic changes in Sheung Shui. Residents vented their anger over the disruption caused by mainland parallel traders’ activities.

It is easy to forget that before Sheung Shui became a rather chaotic traders’ hub, the area was occupied by farmland and rural villages. This was transformed first by large-scale public housing and then private residential developments as urban people moved to look for more affordable housing. Varsity talks to different generations of Sheung Shui residents and hears about their affection for their town.

An abrupt clean-up operation in Tung Chau Street in February this year swept away the homes and belongings of 19 street sleepers in Sham Shui Po. While passersby may consider street sleepers as living in a borrowed place, they have, over time developed certain rules among their community and connections with some nearby residents. They may be living rough but they are keen to maintain their dignity.

After the demonstrations and campaigns against the demolition of Choi Yuen Village, some villagers accepted the government compensation and planned to build a new village. It has not been easy and they have encountered a lot of difficulties. Construction of their new houses is expected to finish in late 2013. The years of struggle have left many of them exhausted and what keeps them going is the wish for a stable home.

True family ties are not just written in blood. In the Our Community section, Varsity hears the stories of adoptive parents and children who come from different racial backgrounds.

In the Lifestyle section, we explore the cultural fusion in Yau Ma Tei by looking at how the arrival of local artists and cultural workers have injected new vitality into this old district.

Enjoy, and perhaps it will remind you of your own stories about the places you belong to.

Billy Leung Tsz-hong

Managing Editor

Winds of Change Sweep through Sheung Shui

December 18, 2012

Parallel traders merely the latest new phenomenon in this former rural backwater
By Ian Cheng and Natalie Cheng

Sheung Shui station is the last stop on the East Rail Line before passengers in Hong Kong reach mainland China. Positioned close to four major access points to the Mainland, today’s Sheung Shui has taken on the feel of a modern day Silk Road trading post with Chinese characteristics.

Cross-boundary parallel traders crowd the platforms of the train station with cartloads of parallel goods, ranging from milk powder and cosmetics to iPads and mobile phones, turning this former sleepy market town into a hub for those who buy goods in tax-free Hong Kong to resell in the Mainland.

The rapid development of Sheung Shui in recent years has caused some parts of it to become unrecognizable. More and more shopping centres have sprung up and the types of shops found in the town have changed as well.

Pharmacies, jewellery shops, and health care retailers and chain stores, mainly catering to mainland consumers, have multiplied, pushing out independent local businesses.

“Things cost more and there are fewer choices,” says Leung Wai-sze, a freelance writer in her early thirties who has lived in Sheung Shui since the age of two.

In September, protesters responding to a call on the internet to “reclaim” Sheung Shui, gathered outside Sheung Shui station. They complained that parallel traders had pushed up the prices of local goods and caused disturbances to daily life for residents in the town.

Leung wrote an article later that month, describing the changes and impact of development in Sheung Shui since the 1980s.

“I tried to interpret my feelings… that is to say if I want to ‘reclaim’ anything, then it is the life that we had always enjoyed before [in Sheung Shui],” she says.

The article struck a chord and was widely shared on social networking sites. Among those who share her sentiments is Andrew Choi Tsz-hong, a 22-year-old journalist who was born and raised in Sheung Shui. Choi feels uncomfortable about the changes to his home town to the point where he feels it is gradually being stolen by mainlanders.

“Shopping in Tsim Sha Tsui is acceptable, as Hong Kong is a tourist place, a shopping paradise. However, Sheung Shui is not for tourists. Buying daily necessities that are supposed to be for local residents is not a normal phenomenon,” Choi says.

Down and Out in Sham Shui Po

December 18, 2012

How the street sleepers find their place on the street
By Rene Lam and Nicole Chan

Right on cue, there is a “pop” sound and the floodlight switches off. This means it is 8 p.m. The scent of brewing Vietnamese tea mingles with the stench from the rubbish station and the smog from West Kowloon Corridor overhead hangs in the air. A group of homeless people chitchat, gamble and unwind after another tough day.

This scene plays out every day in front of the Jade Market in Sham Shui Po. It is less than a home but at least it is a refuge to a community of street-sleepers.

The area became a hub for street people in the early 2000s after their previous spots in Yau Ma Tei and Mongkok were cleared for redevelopment.

Street sleepers in Hong Kong can be generally divided into three categories, people with mental health problems, drug users, and the jobless elderly. Their family members have abandoned them for various reasons and with no other alternatives, sleeping on the street is their last resort. The majority are men who mainly fall into the first two categories but there is also a community of Vietnamese former asylum-seekers.

“For some, Hong Kong is a blessed place,” says Fung, a street sleeper in his 50s. Looking out from the footbridge he sleeps on, Olympic City and the new and fancy West Kowloon residential developments are just a stone’s throw away.

When Varsity visited him, Fung had been sleeping there for one week. Before he settled on the street, he used to rent a sub-divided unit in Sham Shui Po. He recalls that the space was the size of a single bed. The fleas and the odour due to high humidity and poor ventilation made it unbearable to stay any longer.

Life is simple. During the daytime, street sleepers stroll around to find their friends, go to the library to read newspapers and listen to groups of the elderly singing in the park – Chinese opera on weekdays and old pop songs at weekends. They usually stay within walking distance as they cannot afford public transport.

But life is not completely free on the streets. There are certain hidden rules Fung feels obliged to follow. For instance, street sleepers usually put their important personal belongings on or near to their mattress. Everyone’s mattress marks their own “territory”. He explains he never sits on others’ mattresses, for fear of being accused of thievery. Also, he only sleeps beside someone he knows.

“This is not a hotel. You cannot sleep wherever you want,” he says.

Choi Yuen Villagers’ Brave New World

December 18, 2012

Shared memories and old ties help Choi Yuen villagers find ways to build their new home
by Kris Lee And Caleb Ho

Many people in Hong Kong dream of a good salary and a comfortable flat in the city. These are among the goals that drive them as they commute to work every morning.

No doubt, the residents of Tin Shui Wai in the northern New Territories share similar ambitions as they rush to offices in Kowloon and Hong Kong. Not so Fancy Fung Yu-chuk who farms 30,000 square feet of land in Pat Heung, Yuen Long and follows the time-honoured cycle: plough, sow, water, weed, feed and harvest. Then she delivers the produce to customers by bike.

Fung was born and grew up in Choi Yuen Village, which was demolished in May last year to make way for the Hong Kong section of the Guangzhou-Shenzhen-Hong Kong Express Rail Link. Some 500 people in 150 households were forced to move despite staunch protests.

Some of them decided to build a new Choi Yuen Village and since May last year, they have been creating an organic farm on rented land near the site of the new village. The farm, which they have named Pioneer Field, is jointly owned by some of these villagers and a few non-villagers.

Fung’s home may be gone, but her attachment to the old village, to the land and to the people, has not diminished.

“Shek Kong Airfield and Shek Kong Military Field used to be our playground. We let our cattle out to pasture there and ran around with bare feet. This is what differentiates us from children who grew up in the city, they never had these experiences,” Fung says.

Although she has moved to Tin Shui Wai, she still comes to the new village to farm and to see her old friends and neighbours. “My homeland has been demolished now, where else could I go?”

Hong Kong Rainbow Families

December 18, 2012

Race no barrier to family ties in interracial adoptions

By Vivian Ng

A white mother is holding the hand of a little Chinese girl on the street. They talk to each other just as any mother and daughter would but you soon notice that passers-by may stare at them for a moment. Some seem suspicious, even annoyed, while others may give them a wide, cheerful smile.

According to Victoria Woodyatt, this is exactly what she and her daughter Jessica have experienced in the past. The seemingly disapproving stares come from those that disagree with interracial adoption. They question whether it can replace the blood link between mother and daughter and the cultural links between members of the same ethnic group whereas the friendly looks come from those who appear to support it.

There are usually around 100 adoptions in Hong Kong every year and according to the group, Mother’s Choice, around a third of these are interracial adoptions.

The Social Welfare Department has accredited three non-governmental organisations to work with its Adoption Unit, namely the International Social Service Hong Kong Branch (ISSHK), Mother’s Choice and Po Leung Kuk. These organisations arrange and process the adoptions.

Under the government’s adoption programme, priority is given to matching children with families of the same cultural or ethnic background to minimize the cultural changes and the child’s adjustment problems. Single people also have the chance to adopt, but they, together with the non-ethnic Chinese families, are usually at the bottom of the list.

People who want to adopt a child can go to any of the four approved units to start their applications. They have to provide comprehensive details about their family background, income, education and adoption motivations in their application form and provide supporting documents.

After being informed of any new cases of children given up for adoption, the Adoption Unit will discuss placing the children with suitable families with the NGO’s. Social workers will then let qualified applicants have some basic information about the children they are being offered and let them decide whether they want to go ahead.

If the applicants decide they would like to adopt the child, social workers will conduct a home study to assess the family’s readiness and suitability for the child. It takes between six months and two years to process the applications, depending on how quickly the applicants can provide all the required documents.

The adoption cases will then be referred to the Court after six months. Once the Court grants an Adoption Order to the families, follow-up work from the social workers ends.

Safeguarding Personal Data

December 18, 2012

Consumers combat cold-callers as law strengthens privacy protection

By Viola Yeh & Yannie Mak

There can be few adults in Hong Kong who have not received unwanted direct marketing ads in their letter boxes and email inboxes, or received cold calls from companies they have never heard of, selling services they are not interested in. Often, we wonder how they got our addresses and phone numbers.

Concern over personal data reached new heights in 2010 when, after months of denial, Octopus Cards Limited finally admitted it had sold the personal data of two million Octopus Card holders to third parties, for a total of more than HK$44 million. This information included their names, telephone numbers, gender, identity card numbers and even Octopus Card purchase histories.

In the wake of the fiasco, the Privacy Commissioner on Personal Data (PCPD) issued a set of guidelines on direct marketing practices. But they were just that, guidelines lacking teeth. Those teeth have now finally arrived after the Legislative Council passed a set of amendments in July that will tighten restrictions on the use and transfer of personal data, impose strict regulations on direct marketing, introduce heftier fines for violations and make it easier for consumers to take legal action against those who misuse their personal information.

The amended ordinance creates a new offence of disclosure of personal data obtained without consent. Data users – organisations that collect data from customers and other individuals – are required to notify consumers about what their information will be used for and get their written consent before it can be used for direct marketing. Likewise, if the user wishes to transfer that data to any third party for other marketing uses.

If the data user discloses any personal data obtained without a person’s consent in order to gain benefit, they face a maximum fine of HK$1 million and a five-year jail term.

The changes also mean the PCPD will have greater powers to enforce the provisions and provide legal assistance to people whose data has been misused. This means people can pursue compensation claims without being deterred by enormous legal costs or necessarily going to court. The first phase of the ordinance came into effect in October, and the other provisions that include those related to direct marketing are expected to be implemented early next year.

A spokesman for the PCPD said the amendments were necessary because, “the collection and use of personal data in this era of ‘big data’ can create great economic and societal value. But they also pose immense risks to privacy and raise serious concerns about the protection of personal data.”

Cultural Crossover in Yau Ma Tei

December 18, 2012

Neighbourhood fusion of arts, culture and community

By Thee Lui

Yau Ma Tei is a familiar place to Hong Kong’s art and culture addicts. They can catch an arthouse movie at the Broadway Cinematheque and browse through the books and magazines at the Kubrick bookstore next door while taking in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Afterwards, they might want to attend a talk given by post-80s activists at one of the spaces run by local cultural groups.

Meanwhile, some construction workers, who have just finished work sit on the edge of the flower boxes outside the cinema and drink a can of beer or two. The historical Wholesale Fruit Market is a stone’s throw away and next to it and you may find food stalls selling cheap yet delicious beef brisket noodles.

Hemmed between the tourist spots of Jordan and the neon retail paradise of Mong Kok, Yau Ma Tei retains its traditional shops, trades and artisans. In recent years, the area has also seen the arrival of local artists, designers and cultural workers. They are drawn by the sense of community, authentic Hong Kong culture and relatively cheap rents.

The incomers include people like Simon Go Man-ching, founder of HULU Culture, a non-profit organisation dedicated to promoting local arts and culture. Go says today’s Yau Ma Tei is a fascinating fusion of traditional arts, grassroots culture, and a strong sense of neighbourhood.

“Yau Ma Tei still retains many distinctive community cultures and neighbourhood features that were prevalent during the 1960s and 1970s,” he says.

Although he was not a Yau Ma Tei resident, Go spent a lot of time hanging around in the district during his student days. He is impressed by the street culture and especially by the close, neighbourly bonds people there enjoy.

“I always chat with the neighbours. It feels like we have known each other for so long. The old people here are eager to share their experience with me. I appreciate their belongingness and gratefulness about where they live,” Go says.

Go was able to showcase Yau Ma Tei’s unique character when HULU Culture won funding from the West Kowloon Cultural District Authority and the Arts Development Council (ADC) to organise the six-month “Yau Ma Tei Cultural Celebration Project”. The project aimed to encourage active community participation through a series of community arts projects, exhibitions and performance activities. Although the Celebration Project ended in January, HULU Culture still organises heritage tours that take visitors to local sights such as Tin Hau Temple, the Wholesale Fruit Market and the Red Brick Building.

HULU Culture is not the only cultural group to make a base in Yau Ma Tei. In recent years, a number of young cultural enthusiasts have quietly moved into the neighbourhood. Woofer Ten was one of the first. It moved into a space in Shanghai Street provided by the ADC in 2009.