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Tammy Cheung Documented

Varsity peeks into the life of homegrown independent director.

Reporter: Nectar Gan

The office is small and cramped. Several tables are stuffed into the space and the shelves overflow with books. Amidst the jumble of paper and books, Tammy Cheung Hung discusses details of an overseas collaboration with her colleagues.

Cheung is one of the leading figures in Hong Kong’s independent documentary circle. She has directed nine documentaries to date and founded Visible Record Limited, which specialises in the distribution and promotion of documentaries.

Cheung’s documentaries touch on various social issues in Hong Kong, such as education and the elderly. Her first documentary, 1999’s Invisible Women follows the lives of three ethnic Indian women in Hong Kong. In the film, Cheung explores gender inequalities and looks at the lives of ethnic minorities in Hong Kong.

Invisible Women announced Cheung’s arrival as a local documentary-maker but she only decided to focus on a full-time filmmaking career in 2002, three years after her debut.

Born in Shanghai and brought up in Hong Kong, Cheung had never thought of being a filmmaker. Her childhood aspiration was to be a social worker, but she gave up on the idea because she thought it would be too tough a job to handle.

She has had a varied work life as a prison guard, teacher and a translator for a bank before finally settling down as a full-time documentary filmmaker in Hong Kong. Of her decision to become a filmmaker, she says: “My attitude back then was just to have fun and try it out first.” She was not too worried about failure. “It didn’t matter because I could always go back to my old job [in a bank].”

Cheung’s twin passions are film and social affairs. The latter drove her to study sociology at Hong Kong Shue Yan College (now University), while the former led her to study film in Canada.

The love of film was kindled before Cheung left for Canada. She chanced upon Japanese director Nagisa Oshima’s film Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence starring David Bowie and was blown away by it. It dawned on her how powerful visual communication was and how underlying problems in society could be highlighted through film. She hoped to one day inspire people, the way the film had inspired her.

The Show Carries On

Amazing Race Asia winner Sam Wu finds his stage in the classroom.

Reporter: Stephanie Cheng

Standing in front of the classroom is a dapper young man in a fitted grey flannel blazer. He is Sam Wu, an English instructor at the City University of Hong Kong (CityU). From his appearance, few would guess that this Singaporean dandy is a former winner of the world-renowned brutal reality show – the Amazing Race Asia.

In 2008, Wu and his local comedian buddy Vince Chung took part in the third season of the show. According to Wu, the selection process for the show included a physical, psychological and personality tests. “There were hundreds of teams applying and I didn’t expect to be in the final 10. The truth was, we were the back-up team. We weren’t even in the first 10,” he says.

Perhaps it was destiny; one team was disqualified. Wu and Chung were the last-minute back-up team. “They called me on a Monday and I had to leave in two hours,” Wu recalls.

Wu and Chung did not even have time to take official leave from work. Since Wu was under a confidentiality agreement at the time, he could not explain to his boss the reason for his sudden leave.

Wu remembers clearly how his boss replied: “Okay, but be prepared to lose your job.”

The race lasted for a month, during which Wu and Chung competed against nine other teams and travelled 21,600 km across Thailand, Vietnam, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Macau, India and Oman.

The Amazing Race Asia is famous for its gruelling and challenging tasks. “I had to get a tattoo, it’s my only one. I had to do bungee-jumping, clean an elephant, eat cockroaches, centipedes, and frogs,” says Wu. “I did everything that I’ve never done in my life.”

Wu, who peppers his conversation with Cantonese words, describes himself as a “very gwai [well-behaved]” person; he does not do things that are “extreme or stupid”.

“I like safe. I love a safe and familiar environment,” he says. For Wu, joining the Amazing Race Asia was a significant step out of his comfort zone. “I wanted to challenge myself. I wanted to see what I could achieve basically.”

Despite his determination, neither his family nor friends believed that Wu could actually win.

“My sister thought I would be eliminated in the first episode,” Wu says, giggling. While Wu has never been athletic, he somehow managed to survive the challenges.

Educating Idealists

Devoted professor, Chow Po-chung shares, his views on teaching

Reporter: Ben Lam

On a Friday afternoon, Chow Po-chung returns to his office after back-to-back meetings. His desk is stacked high with books and papers. Unread emails await him in his inbox. Yet the busy 38-year-old assistant professor puts his work aside for two hours to talk to Varsity.

You might wonder why Chow is so busy. He teaches just a couple of courses, one of them being political philosophy in the Department of Government and Public Administration at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK). Unlike many academics, he does not prioritise his time to win research grants, write academic papers and try to get published in the most prestigious peer-reviewed journals. Instead, he puts teaching first and foremost.

That means he spends most of his time teaching the students who are enrolled on his wildly popular courses. For Chow, teaching and learning does not just take place in the classroom. He plays music, shows movies and takes students hiking. He believes the best way to learn is to experience the world using all senses.

This is something Chow did himself from a young age. The teenage Chow enjoyed a lot of freedom as his new immigrant parents were preoccupied with work. He started to backpack around the Mainland with friends when he was just a Form Two student.

These travels influenced him deeply. He met people from different parts of the country and saw how others lived. “From this experience, I learnt what China really is. It is not an abstract concept. It is the concrete situation of how people live,” he says. “If you understand their situation, you will not make fun of them so easily.”

It is this sense of empathy that Chow wants to inculcate in his students, and which landed him in hot water at the height of the heated debate about mainlanders in Hong Kong last month.

In early February, anti-mainlander sentiment reached boiling point when some netizens published a newspaper advert comparing the behaviour of some mainlanders in Hong Kong to locusts. It followed inflammatory remarks by a mainland professor who described Hongkongers as “dogs”.

Chow posted a status update on Facebook in defence of mainlanders. He urged the public to stay rational, a view shared among many scholars. The response was immediate and some of it was vitriolic, the post was shared more than 400 times overnight.

He was accused of being a “traitor to Hong Kong”; some of his students even said they were ashamed of being his students. “He is swinging between two sides: speaking for mainlanders when in Hong Kong, speaking for Hongkongers when in the Mainland. These kinds of people who get benefits from both sides are the most hateful,” a student commented.

Chow is still surprised by the strength of the response and disappointed with other scholars who may share his views but dare not speak out. He, on the other hand, is not one to be cowed by negativity or to shy away from controversial issues.

Temples Get a Makeover

Temples go hi-tech in the quest for spiritual tranquility

Reporters: Caleb Ho, Nicole Chan & Rene Lam

 

Tailor-made Treats

Glamabox is a monthly dose of beauty delivered to your door.
Reporter: Nicole Chan

Imagine receiving a beautifully wrapped box every month. On unwrapping it, you will find five sample-sized beauty products from luxurious and reputable skincare and cosmetics brands. All will have been handpicked by the model, Lisa Selesner (Lisa S.) and her team of beauty experts.

“Glamabox” offers this box of surprises, delivered monthly to your door. It is a beauty subscription service headquartered in Hong Kong, and available in Asia.

 

Glamabox founder Lisa S.

“It” girl and founder Lisa S. has a mission – to share the products and services she discovers with others around the world. Lisa S. and her Glamabox team, who are fashion stylists and beauty experts, explore and try out different beauty products, seeking out the best ones for their subscribers.

In order to “tailor-make” each Glamabox, subscribers have to start off by filling in a simple “Quick Style Profile” online indicating their age, skin type, style and beauty preferences, before subscribing with a monthly fee of $108. The Glama-team will then review the profile and customise five personalised high-end beauty products for the Glamagirl each month.

Some of the products in the Glamabox are not yet available in Hong Kong, so subscribers can enjoy a sneak peek of the hottest products from around the globe.

Once you find something you like from the samples, you can order it on the Glamashop, the online retail store of Glamabox.
In the past few months, Glamabox has widened its range of beauty products to include nail polish, shampoos and conditioners, masks, eye creams, serums, mascara and lip balms, as well as vouchers for hair and facial treatments.

The Glamabox even delivers healthy food items. The February package included the Stephen James organic beauty-berry bar and three bottles of the Japanese beauty drink, Chocola BB Drink.

Bonnie Tang Man-lam, a recent subscriber of Glamabox, is satisfied with the overall service and products.

“The best thing is that it delivers the box to my door and I don’t have to choose from the great variety of products offered in the market,” Tang says.

Glamabox gives you a little sample of different products, allowing you to discover and try new beauty products without stepping out of your door.

If you are dissatisfied with the contents of your Glamabox, you can give feedback on the website and adjustments will be made to fine-tune the next box.

Switch on Your INDIE Channel

Celia Chan Sze-ki thinks iMusic.hk gives every music lover a stage to perform and share.

iMusic.hk: your map of indie music, a platform to share and enjoy music
Reporter: Rene Lam

Some of you may have a beautiful voice but every time you sing on stage, stage fright just gets the better of you. So you might think that you are doomed to singing in the shower for the rest of your life.

Some of you may be sick of karaoke music manufactured by giant record labels. You keep browsing YouTube but there are simply too many videos to search to find a fine indie music channel.

For all frustrated music lovers, iMusic.hk offers an oasis that satisfies both your need to perform and to listen to original music. Set up in June 2008, it is a Hong Kong based music portal that encourages individual musicians to upload their musical works, be they original songs or covers of pop songs.

So how does iMusic.hk work?

Musicians get their own artist page after registering as members. Not only can you share your music in your channel, you can also publish the score and other related tags in the “vault” section. Besides, you can keep your fans up-to-date with any happenings by posting photos or creating blog entries.

iMusic.hk is also connected with several online radio stations, such as Uchannel.hk and UDpower.com, which allows you to air your music between their programmes and get your voice heard by a bigger audience.

For music lovers who enjoy listening to fresh voices, iMusic.hk is a platform where you can hear a range of sounds and styles.

You can also create your own radio station by arranging your favourite songs. Just click on your playlist every time you login and then minimise your channel window if you want to work to the beat. You can also act as DJ for your friends by sharing your radio with them.

Celia Chan Sze-ki, a 15-year-old rock ‘n’ roll lover, who made it to number three on the artist chart in iMusic.hk, treasures the opportunity to share her music. She thinks the website is a dream come true, a platform where she can upload her work and be a rock ‘n’ roll singer.

Since most of the artists own the copyright of their works, you can download most of the songs directly from iMusic.hk. The site specialises in audio sharing so the streaming speed is amazingly fast.

Another distinctive function is the community and event function, which enables any member of the site to invite other members to join a musical event.

In the world of Web 2.0, every performer has the power to get their voice heard and every audience member has unlimited choices.

All you need is passion and the will to make your own music at home, then broadcast your talent to the world through iMusic.hk. Now click onto iMusic.hk and enjoy your own radio.

March 2012 – The Language War

Under the Hong Kong government’s policy of  trilingualism and biliteracy, Cantonese, English and Putonghua are meant to be of equal importance. But in reality, the three are often competing.

This issue of Varsity looks at the language wars in Hong Kong:

Hong Kongers have leapt to defend Cantonese from perceived encroachment from Putonghua and in response to the pro-Cantonese movement in Guangdong

Some Cantonese-speaking parents in Hong Kong insist on only speaking English to their children

More and more schools are switching to teaching Chinese language lessons in Putonghua rather than Cantonese

 

 

Varsity March 2012 – Editor’s Note

Mind Your Language

Since the handover, Hong Kong has been pursuing a policy of bi-literacy and tri-lingualism, which stressesthe equal importance of Cantonese, English and Putonghua in our everyday life.

In this issue of Varsity, we look at how each language is competing for an equal footing in the city’s language war.

Moves to promote Putonghua at the expense of Cantonese in Guangdong have led to the birth of a pro-Cantonese movement in the province and in neighbouring Hong Kong. Here, activists are defending Cantonese as a language. Protecting Cantonese, they believe, is more than a cultural issue, it is a political struggle.

In the sphere of education, more and more schools are switching back to using English as a medium of instruction after the government more or less admitted defeat over its policy of mother-tongue teaching. A major reason for the failure was the resistance of many parents to abandon English as the language of the classroom. Some parents even strive to create an English-only environment for their children, even if they are not fluent themselves. Varsity explores the impact this has on the children’s English proficiency as well as on their day-to-day communication.

While English dominates the household setting, Putonghua reigns at school. More than 500 local schoolsnow conduct Chinese language lessons in Putonghua, the official national language. Advocates believe learning Chinese in Putonghua enhances students’ Chinese writing ability, while critics complain it hurts their confidence in expressing themselves in class.

Rivalry is not only found among the three different languages, it has also extended to the written form withinone language, between traditional Chinese and simplified Chinese. Hong Kong has started to use simplified Chinese in advertisements and official notices. This has led to a backlash from those who fear Hong Kong islosing its culture and uniqueness.

If the question of language in Hong Kong is rooted in a sense of identity, then it is just as vexed as the questionsabout Hong Kong’s identity.

 

 

 

Joyce Lee
Editor-in-Chief

Defending Cantonese

Hong Kong people struggle to define and defend their mother tongue

By Stephanie Cheng, Vicki Yuen

On Lunar New Year’s Eve, when most people were eating reunion dinners with their families, more than a hundred people braved the cold and took a “walk” outside the Liaison Office of the Central People’s Government in Western.

A protestor demanding an apology from Kong Qingdong outside the Liaison Office of the Central People’s Government on Lunar New Year’s Eve.

Some brought their pet dogs, others brought dog toys and dog banners. They were not marking the Year of the Dog; they were angry and they were protesting.

Their fury was directed at Kong Qingdong, professor of Chinese studies at Peking University, who said during a webcast interview that most Hong Kong people are dogs and those who do not speak Putonghua are bastards. “Mandarin is a language. Cantonese is a dialect. Those speaking Mandarin have no duty to learn Cantonese,” Kong said on the show.

Miss Pang, a university student who had never joined such a demonstration before, stood with a homemade banner that read “Kong Qingdong apologise”. “They should respect us. Cantonese is not inferior to Mandarin,” she said.

The protest was also a first for 60-year-old Sunny Chan, who could hardly contain his fury. “Kong is the descendant of Confucius? Rubbish!” he exclaimed. “Cantonese is local culture, whereas Putonghua is only a medium for communication and exchange. They should not eliminate local culture.”

Whether Cantonese is a language or a dialect is a matter for debate. The spoken forms of regional variations of Chinese are often mutually unintelligible and even among linguists there are no universal or standardised criteria to distinguish between a language and a dialect.

Ben Au Yeung Wai-hoo, senior instructor of the Department of Chinese Language and Literature at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes speakers can be regarded as speaking either a language or a dialect. There is no contradiction between the two.

Au Yeung says “language” reflects a more significant and general identity in a wider context while “dialect” is more “intimate”, representing speakers as part of a smaller community. Viewed this way, Au Yeung says Cantonese may be regarded as a dialect of the Chinese language.

For the protesters outside the Central Liaison Office, the dispute over whether Cantonese is a language or a dialect is more than a linguistic or cultural issue. It is a political battle. As the linguist Max Weinreich put it, “language is a dialect with an army and navy.”

Parents Opt for English

Alice Hui believes growing up in an English-only environment builds up her children’s confidence in speaking English.

The Cantonese speakers who want English as their kids’  mother tongue

Reporters: Kris Lee and Yannie Mak

On a typical Saturday morning, the children’s section of Kowloon Central Library is packed with children and parents huddled around low tables and squashed into soft easy-chairs. The room is filled with the sound of parents reading aloud to their children in English, with varying degrees of fluency.

This is just one way Hong Kong’s parents are trying to make sure their children master English, which has been an official language of Hong Kong since 1842.

Since the handover, the use of Putonghua has joined English and Cantonese as an official language. Its use has become more important and more widespread. Government policy, implemented in 1998, saw the majority of Hong Kong schools switch from teaching in English to teaching in Cantonese.

Some feared English standards would fall as a result and a survey carried out by the Hong Kong Chamber of Commerce in 2007 suggested that 65 per cent of employers polled said they found employees’ English levels to be below international standards.

But as the keen competition for places at schools that teach in English and the government’s 2008 U-turn to give schools more flexibility to teach in English shows, parents and educators never doubted that English remains as important in Hong Kong today as ever.

For some parents, that means providing an exclusively English-language environment for their children, even though they are native Cantonese speakers in a city where Cantonese is the mother tongue for 97 per cent of the population.

Joey Wong Mei-kuen believes thatspeaking solely English at home createsthe right environment for a secondlanguage for their children.

Joey Wong Mei-kuen, a mother of two daughters, says: “The standard of English [of the younger generation] is worse than my generation.”

She attributes this to the lack of opportunities to practice the language since it is a second language in the community. Therefore, she chooses to use English to communicate with her children and has done so since they were born.