Hong Kong’s Under-Stairs Shops Priced Off the Streets

January 10, 2013

Under Stairs Shops Lose Out as Hong Kong’s Retail Rental Prices Top World Rankings

Editors: Lotus Lau,Charlie Leung Repoters:Viola Yeh, Yannie Mak, Kris Lee

A recent report named Causeway Bay, Central and Tsim Sha Tsui as the most expensive shopping areas in the Asia Pacific Region. In fact, Causeway Bay has overtaken Fifth Avenue in New York to be the district with the most expensive shop rents in the world. The area saw a 35 per cent hike in retail rental prices last year, nearly eight times higher than the average increase in other countries.

An influx of mainland visitors with high purchasing power has attracted numerous international brands to establish branches in these popular shopping areas, leading to an overall increase in rental price.

This has had a huge knock-on effect on small shop owners. Many are being forced to close down their businesses as they are unable to afford the rents.

Mr Yam, who has been selling mahjong sets and accessories from an under stairs shop will be squeezed out when his rent triples. His landlord recognized an opportunity to lease out the shop at a much higher price to another tenant.

After 32 years of operation, Yam has no choice but to close up shop. “Of course I think it’s a pity to close down my shop,” sighs Yam. “But I cannot afford the rental price. What other choices do I have?”

Yam’s case is just the tip of the iceberg. Over the past years, small shops in Causeway Bay, especially those in Russell Street, Lockhart Road, Jaffe Road and Yun Ping Road have been gradually replaced by chain stores operated by international companies.

Russell Street is poised to become the world’s priciest street for shop rents with an average rental price of $1710 per square feet.

Brand chain stores selling watches, jewellery, and cosmetics are replacing former high street mainstays like traditional Hong Kong diners (Cha Chan Teng), grocery stores and small pharmacies and many more. While enjoying the economic gains, Hong Kong is suffering the loss of its local flavour.
Debra McGlynn, who has been living in Hong Kong for four years, was shopping for mahjong from Yam’s store during Varsity’s visit. McGlynn feels that Hong Kong is losing its uniqueness and attractiveness as traditional local stores are being closed down.

“To me, Hong Kong is all about the charm and the character of traditional stores,” McGlynn says.

Wan Chai District Councilor, Yolanda Ng Yuen-ting acknowledges the impact of high rental prices on small shop owners in Causeway Bay. She finds it absurd to see multiple branches of the same chain stores along the same street in the district.

Other then the influence on small shop owners, Ng points out that the rise in rental prices affect residents as well. To satisfy mainland visitors, the basic daily needs of residents are neglected and their living costs increase.

The huge revenue from mainland visitors and investment from international companies undoubtedly bring economic benefits to Hong Kong; however, it may be time to consider how to retain Hong Kong’s unique character.

Hong Kong’s Hand-crafted Violin Makers

January 10, 2013

Editor: Gienne Lee Reporters:Ian Cheng, Vivian Ng, Matthew Leung

Local violin-makers labour for love in face of stiff competition

Rows of violins hang on the walls of a cozy violin, softly illuminated by the warm spotlights. Behind a small door in the middle of the shop, a violin maker is busy planing down pieces of wood.

Ngai Tin-wai, in his 50s, is a local violin maker who started learning the from a master in mainland China more than 20 years ago. He opened his workshop in 1993 and has been making violins to sell since then.

Ngai is so obsessed with violins that he spent years refining the design of his instruments so he could improve their sound quality. After numerous attempts, he finally made a violin with the sound quality that he is satisfied with. On average, it takes around three years from placing an order to receiving a customized hand-made violin. Nevertheless, there is no shortage of customers who are willing to wait for a violin that meets their specifications.

Unlike Ngai, Timothy Spencer learnt to hand-craft violins at a formal violin making school in England. Spencer had started off as a furniture maker but turned his hand to violins because he finds them unique and beautiful to make.

Spencer says the skills involved in violin making are more challenging than it seems. “It is one of the most precise forms of wood work that you can do.” Spencer explains that hand-made violins are often made from better materials and produced better sound. He says customers benefit from the experience of a violin maker.

Spencer does not solely rely on just selling violins for a living, as it can take as long as two years to sell a hand-made violin. Like most of the violin makers in his native Britain, he also repairs violins.

Despite the skill and care that goes into making a violin by hand, professional violinist, Andrew Choi Wai-wah says most ordinary players will find it hard to tell a hand-made instrument from a factory-produced one.

Choi says are mainly three types of violins. Firstly, factory made violins; secondly, hand-made violins made by one individual violin maker and thirdly, hand-made violins assembled from different parts crafted by different makers.

Choi says only very experienced violinists can identify a hand-made instrument from a mass-produced one.

Henry, a local violin seller who does not want to disclose his full name, is pessimistic about the local violin making industry. He says local makers face fierce competition from those in the Mainland and cannot match the prestigious reputation of European violins. Yet, when deciding on their purchases, local customers place price and reputations high on their list of considerations.

However, Henry still sees the value of hand-made violins produced solely by one carpenter. He believes these instruments have refined design and structure and therefore better sound quality. This may be why local violin makers still have a market for their work.

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.