Stepping down from the podium

April 18, 2011

What help do Hong Kong’s retired athletes get to adapt to life after sport?

Reporter: Jennifer Xu

You have spent most of your days in gruelling training. You have sacrificed time you could have spent with friends, family or studying. You may not have developed many social skills. Now, as others enter the most productive phases of their careers, you are about to retire. You are anxious about your life. You do not know what to do or how to find a job. This is a typical scenario for a Hong Kong athlete who is retiring from sport.

To help retired athletes adapt to life after competitive sport, the Hong Kong government has offered some help. Before 2008, this help consisted of funds to support further study for certificate, diploma or degree courses offered by local or overseas education institutes. There were also schemes like the Elite Athletes Education Subsidy and Elite Athletes Tutorial Support, which also provided assistance for study.However, only retired athletes of 14 designated “elite sports” were eligible to apply. The funds were administered by the Hong Kong Sports Institute (HKSI).

The situation changed in 2008 when the government gave HK$11 million , with HK$8.5 million directly go for helping retired athletes, to the Sports Federation & Olympic Committee of Hong Kong to launch the Hong Kong Athletes Career & Education Programme (HKACEP). Unlike the previous schemes, the programme covers all affiliated members of National Sports Associations’ athletes. It aims to help retired athletes to return to study and to find jobs.

The sportsmen and women can apply to enrol on an online English course, take language enrichment programmes or apply for scholarships for further study. Up till now, around 170 retired athletes have benefited from the programme. However, only 18 have found work through the programme. Most of them have received education assistance.

While there are no restrictions on the sports that applicants have competed in, they do have to satisfy other requirements and some athletes are concerned these may be too stringent.

Tong Siu-man, a bronze medallist of double sculls at the 2009 East Asian Games, is now a full-time coach of the Hong Kong, China Rowing Association. Tong succeeded in making an application for some courses through the programme. But while she finds the programme helpful, she believes the benchmarks for eligibility are set too high to help the majority of retired athletes.

In order to qualify, applicants should either place at least eighth in the Olympic Games (Summer or Winter) or be medallists at World Championships, Asian Games (Summer or Winter), Asian Championship competitions, National Games, World University Games or East Asian Games.

Yet, in the 2009 East Asian Games, 110 of 438 Hong Kong athletes were medallists. Only seven Hong Kong athletes ranked eighth or higher in the 2008 Olympic Games.

Chan Ka-man, the 2010 Asian Games bronze medal holder in the women’s 61 kg karate competition, agrees with Tong. She says that based on the requirements, nearly two-thirds of the members of the Karatedo Federation of Hong Kong are ineligible for the programme.

Charities pay to receive

April 18, 2011

Groups say paid fundraisers are more cost-effective than volunteers

Reporters: Christine Tai, Stephanie Chan

A group of people wearing T-shirts bearing the same logo go to Mongkok, pick a spot with heavy pedestrian traffic and set up booths and banners. Then they take out donation boxes and start their work.

Their job is to raise as much money as they can. They are not volunteers but street fundraisers employed by a charity.

Diana Tang, who does not want to disclose her full name, was recruited through an advertisement in the Labour Department to work as a street fundraiser for Children Life Stimulation Organization last summer. She got HK$300 a day as basic pay and was told the fundraiser who raised the most money in their team would get a HK$50 bonus. Tang thought the job sounded meaningful and HK$300 was a good salary, so she took the job. But she quit after three days.

“(The team leader) gave me pressure every day,” she complains. She explains that because a team leader receives commission based on the total amount of donations the team raises, their attitude changes according to how much money team members collect.

“The team leader scowls at you but then he’ll grin when you get a donation,” says Tang. She recalls an incident when her team leader called her to complain that her performance was really bad. He told her the amount she raised would only help 22 children.

Tang blames the commission system for the harsh treatment meted out by team leaders. She says the system made her feel she was raising money in order to make money rather than to help people. This has affected her impression of charities and she has become suspicious of street fundraising. “I thought helping charities was meaningful. But I would not have taken the job if I knew I had to work like a salesperson.” Children Life Stimulation Organization did not respond to our enquiries.

Chris Ho, who got a job as a street fundraiser for Hong Kong Animal Adoption Centre (HKAAC) after taking his Hong Kong Certificate of Education exams, feels the same way.

Ho, who prefers not to use his full name, says he was told the monthly salary for the job was around HK$7,000 to HK$9,000 if he raised HK$1,000 a day. However, if fundraisers did not manage to meet the HK$1,000 a day quota, their salary would be deducted by HK$50 for every HK$100 to HK$200 less than the quota. If the fundraisers raised more than the quota, every extra HK$100 to HK$200 would bring them a bonus of HK$50.

“I do not want to give money to street fundraisers after taking the job… I think they are cheating,” Ho says. He believes working for charities should be done on a voluntary basis and questions whether donations are really being used to help people in need if the charities are spending money on paying fundraisers.

When Ho quit the job after a week, he did so not just because of misgivings about the organization, but also because the work was so demanding. He had to go to the office at around seven to eight o’clock to collect the donation box. Then he would be assigned to different districts, like Causeway Bay and Tsuen Wan, and started to work at 9 a.m.. He remembers that sometimes he worked until 9 p.m. because he could not meet the quota.

An Englishman in South Lantau

April 18, 2011

San Shek Wan representative Andrew Brown shares his enthusiasm for village life

Reporter: Lotus Lau

On a cold, rainy Saturday afternoon in San Shek Wan village, Englishman Andrew Brown shows off a drainage ditch in a footpath that has been properly covered with concrete. It is one of his proudest achievements since being elected as a resident representative of the south Lantau village in 2003.

It is also just one of the many works Brown has done for his village in his three consecutive terms. He says the village was “dead and dying” before he moved in. The young people had left and only the old remained. Many houses were unoccupied and construction waste and junk littered the area. Brown cleared the junk, fixed the telephone lines, and replaced the old rusty pipes.

Brown, a civil engineer who helped construct the Tseung Kwan O Rail and other lines for the MTR Corporation, used his professional knowledge to improve the village infrastructure and revitalize the community of around 50 residents. More families with kids loved the new environment and decided to stay. During his eight years in office, life has become easier and more comfortable for the villagers.

“People began to take a pride in the village. They could see that things were improving,” says Brown.
Apart from infrastructure projects, Brown has also sought to build stronger bonds between the residents in the village. He has organised Christmas parties for the whole village in the car park and holds regular meetings to discuss village matters. When he talks about the meetings, he takes out a list of members from his large but well-organized piles of documents. He knows everyone on the list well.

“This lady is Japanese. Diana is Filipino. Mimi is Chinese, indigenous. Grace is from England. Popo is an old lady. She comes to all the meetings. She does not even speak Cantonese. She speaks Hakka,” he says.
Brown loves the multiracial character of the community. Though he is an expatriate, he enjoys interacting with villagers of different backgrounds.

The 48-year-old Briton came to Hong Kong 15 years ago to work as an engineer. His first home in Hong Kong was in Discovery Bay, where his neighbours were mainly expatriates. But he was dissatisfied with living in an expat community with weak relationships.

“Why would I come and live in Hong Kong if I just wanted to live in an expat community?” Brown says. He eventually discovered his dream place and moved into San Shek Wan two years later.

“I know all people in this village and most people you can just knock on their doors and drink a cup of tea,” he says. Brown thinks the media tends to mislead people into thinking there must be a battle between the indigenous locals and the “gweilos” in his village.

He says this has no basis in reality. He cites the cordial relations he enjoys with his neighbours, saying the manager of the supermarket knows him and their daughters are playmates. The owner of the electrical shop always gives him a discount.

“It is great to get involved with these people who treat you as one of them,” he says with a smile. “It is a mindset thing. As long as I think that I am a part of this community, I am.”

Stand up for Laughter

April 13, 2011

Paying only $150 to enjoy a night full of jokes in Soho, Central

Reporter: Dorothy Goh

Tucked away between restaurants and bars in Elgin Street, Soho, there is a small basement club that only opens for business at night. About an hour before the club opens, people are already waiting at the entrance and hoping to get the best seats. They are not there for the drinks, the food, the music or even the conversation. They are there for laughs.
To enter the club, you have to walk down a steep flight of stairs. At the bottom is a cosy space where rows of chairs are neatly arranged, circling a simple stage with a microphone stand. This is where the magic happens.
The TakeOut Comedy Club (TOC), which opened in February 2007, is the first full-time comedy club in Asia. The club was founded and is managed by Jameson (also known as “Jami”) Gong, a 42-year-old Chinese American whose parents are from Hong Kong.
Gong says he has loved telling jokes and making others laugh since he was young. “It is my destiny, my calling,” he exclaims, looking upwards with arms opened wide. He grew up watching American comedian Johnny Carson on “The Tonight Show” and was amazed at how Carson could make him and millions of others laugh just by talking about everyday topics. The show inspired Gong to become a comedian.
After quitting a career in retail management to pursue his passion for comedy, Gong worked as a stand-up comedian based in New York. He came to Hong Kong in 2006 with a mission to create a local comedy scene.
The TakeOut Comedy Club showcases both English and Chinese stand-up comedy but the style is closer to American stand-up than the performances of homegrown artistes like Dayo Wong Tze-wah. Here, the comics share an intimate space with a small audience, rather than play to large theatres. The shows also feature more audience interaction, with each comedian having less than 10 minutes to perform on stage.
According to Gong, comedy clubs are popular because they help to relieve stress. “Laughing helps improve blood circulation too,” he says.
Gong hopes to bring more laughter into Hong Kong people’s lives and thinks the best way to do that is to introduce stand-up comedy to the locals. “The expatriates already know what stand-up comedy is. They know they have to laugh out loud,” Gong explains. Before each Chinese show begins, Gong never fails to encourage the audience to laugh out loud instead of hiding their laughter. “We want Hong Kong people to realise the power of laughter.”
Nonetheless, he understands that in Chinese “culture” laughing in public is regarded as something to be embarrassed about. Pointing to a corner of the room, he says, “We had one show last week with a couple sitting over there. The girl was laughing so hard “hahahahaha” but her boyfriend was like “shhhhh” (Gong puts his finger to his lips) during the show. We saw it. We want to get people to see that it’s okay to laugh out loud.”
Although Gong wants to get the locals laughing out loud on a regular basis, TOC only showcases Chinese stand-ups once a month. “We don’t have big enough audiences or comedians to do that more than once a month, not yet,” Gong explains.
Live comedy shows are still quite new in Hong Kong but Gong is confident about the outlook for the business. “We’re hitting an untapped market and we have untapped materials that we can talk about on stage where you can relate with us. With a large market of seven million Chinese people, we hope to have Chinese shows every day. We hope to open up comedy clubs in Mongkok, Kowloon. Why not?”
Apart from his comedy shows, Gong gets invited to perform at schools and private events. “Now companies hire us for special shows, their parties as well. So, from the business standpoint, you can make money by being funny,” he says.
Gong has a positive mindset, even when it comes to disappointments and failures. “You will fail, but you will fail to succeed,” he says and strongly advises people to “just do it”.
This is exactly what Vivek Mahbubani did when he saw that TOC was organising a stand-up comedy competition three years ago.

Fishing for memories

April 13, 2011

The sweet and bitter lives of Hong Kong’s Fisherfolk

Reporter: Charlie Leung, Joana U and John Yip

Message to Self – Aged 10 Years from Now

April 13, 2011

Postmoment let’s you send a letter to your future self

Reporter: Charlie Leung Mun-chee

Have you ever thought of speaking to the future you – whether it is to remind yourself of childhood dreams or to encourage the older you not to be disheartened by brutal reality?

Now there is a way to do it: write a letter with the addressee “me” and choose a postage date for some years later, and then post it at Postmoment.

Postmoment will keep letters and mail them at a later, specified date. You will be delighted by the wide selection of cards sold at the store. They are mostly designed by local artists like Ivan Ko, and some of them are made of unconventional materials like hard wood.

There is also the option of just using their mailing service if the cards on offer do not cater to your taste. After sealing your letter, you are free to set the sending date, which can range from several months later to a maximum of 50 years later.

Postmoment makes a service commitment to due delivery. The shop makes a promise to every customer that their letter will be mailed by the time they specify. Even if the store closes down, the three partners will still keep all the letters and continue the mailing business. Moreover, the customers are welcome to contact the partners by email for any missing or delayed delivery.

One of the three partners, Johnxon Tai, says the idea comes from an art shop in Beijing. He feels that posting something to your future self is a nostalgic and romantic act. “The service allows the customers to recall their memories from the past,” says Tai, “like walking into a ‘time tunnel’.”

The idea has been well-received in the community. Tai recalls a secondary school student who thanked him for the service because he had cherished the dream of writing a letter to himself since he was little.

The service is also a welcome one for those who are tired of emails and SMS, methods of communication that are often devoid of the human touch. Postmoment offers not just the chance to take a journey in time, it also encourages you to pick up your pen again. Since posting to your future self is difficult to do via electronic means that stress real-time delivery, the service could also help to revive a letter-writing culture.

The mailing service is for cards and letters, but not packages. Pricing depends on the date set for you to receive the letter. It costs HK$15 for delivery within one year, and another HK$5 for each additional year, with an extra charge for the postage stamps.

There is more to do at Postmoment than just buying cards and posting. A visit to the store is worthwhile even you do not feel like spending.

There are several nicely designed notebooks inside the store for visitors to write or draw in for free. The guestbooks are there to provide stressed Hong Kong people a chance to unwind and express their feelings. There is a page where a terminally ill patient has written down his words of gratitude towards his parents and friends.

All the services offered at Postmoment seem to be directed towards the same message – treasure every moment in the past, present, and the future.

Go Vintage

April 12, 2011

Mee & Gee offers cheap, second-hand vintage clothes

By John Yip

If you are looking for a new outfit and only have HK$20 in your pocket, do not be discouraged because you cannot afford a T-shirt at H&M. You could get yourself a vintage make-over at Mee & Gee for the money – with two shirts at HK$5 each and a pair of trousers for HK$10.
Mee & Gee is a second-hand vintage clothing franchise. From T-shirts to coats, from ties to sportswear, Mee & Gee sells a wide range of clothes mainly sourced from mainland China.
In the store you will be greeted with racks and piles of clothes and excited customers ready to make a splurge. The clothes at Mee & Gee are known for being cheap. Hand-written signs hang over the racks that read, “Branded sports trousers – HK$50 for two” and “Branded ties – HK$ 10 each, buy 5 get 1 free”.
It is rare to see any bargaining as most customers find the prices reasonable – or even a little too low. An average customer would spend anywhere from HK$50 to HK$100. You can imagine how heavy their shopping bags are when they leave the shop.
You may have trouble squeezing into Mee & Gee at weekends when the daily customer count is 10 people every 15 minutes. It is not at all surprising since Mee & Gee offers more than mere bargains. Many customers are attracted to the shop because they do not have to worry about wearing the same outfit as someone else on the street.
You will find the vintage clothing sold at the shop are one-of-a-kind items. The patterns and colours are different for each piece. It is like going on a treasure hunt. However, since the clothes are second-hand, the size and fitting may not be right and customers may need to get them altered.
Ms. Liu loves wearing dresses but those sold at Mee & Gee are in sizes too big for her. She buys them anyway for the sake of the nice cut and lovely details. She does not mind doing some alteration work after the purchase.
Interestingly, the alter-it-yourself factor is another selling point of Mee & Gee. The clothes become truly yours after your sewing and cutting. On Internet forums, customers talk about how satisfied they are after turning an ill-fitting piece into a high-fashion vintage one. Alteration work has become part of the Mee & Gee experience.
One thing to note in order to get the most out of your Mee & Gee experience is that you need to double-check your clothes before your purchase. Mee & Gee does not treat or wash the clothes after they source them from their previous owners. Therefore, stains and tears may become part of what you are paying for. �
If you are looking for clothes and have more than HK$20 in your pocket, Mee & Gee is still the place to shop.
Mee & Gee has stores in Wan Chai, Central, Tsim Sha Tsui and Mongkok. For more information, please visit www.mydress.com.hk/brand/704/Mee–Gee

March 2011 – Dissecting DSS

March 21, 2011

This March, Periscope explores some of the issues surrounding Hong Kong’s Direct Subsidy Scheme (DSS) schools:

Weighing Cost and Quality: DSS schools get subsidies and charge fees, but do they provide value for money?

Parents Conquer All: teachers in DSS schools under pressure from pushy parents

Boosting the Best or Perpetuating Privilege: does DSS system make it harder for poorer kids to enter elite schools?

Varsity March 2011 – Editor’s Note

March 21, 2011

Beyond Education

March is the month of exams. Form seven students struggling with the Hong Kong Advanced Level Examination are not alone. Primary six students also have to take a school exam which will, to a large extent, determine which secondary schools they will enter.

Direct Subsidy Scheme (DSS) schools receive government subsidies but unlike aided schools, they are also allowed to charge fees. So they have more resources to provide better facilities and learning environments. It is no surprise that many parents find DSS schools particularly attractive. In Periscope this issue, Varsity take a closer look at DSS schools.

The DSS aims to widen the choice of schools. But their fees may be an obstacle to poor students. On the other hand, although DSS schools have more resources, does it mean that they necessarily provide better education?

While some parents want their children to get into DSS schools, the parents of ‘gifted’ children worry about the lack of resources available for developing their children’s talents. In the Our Community section, we look at gifted education in Hong Kong.

The government plans to spend about HK$4 billion on education in the next fiscal year. But we do not just need money, we need an education system that can provide equal access to quality education and nurture our potential.

Phoebe Man
Editor-in-Chief

Weighing Cost and Quality

March 21, 2011

DSS schools receive subsidies and charge fees but are they good value for money?

Reporters: Joana U Hoi Teng, Gavin Li Chi Wai

The best primary school, the best secondary school and the best university – these are the things all parents want for their children. Since 1991, Hong Kong’s parents have been able to choose from more than just government and aided schools for their children’s education.

The Direct Subsidy Scheme (DSS) was introduced in that year with the objective of promoting excellence and injecting diversity into the local school system through the development of a strong subsidized private school sector. The rationale was that this would give parents and children more choice.

Schools in the scheme are given subsidies from the government for every child they enrol. But unlike government schools, they can also charge tuition fees and receive funding from other sources, such as donations.

In return for the government funding, the schools are monitored by the Education Bureau (EDB). The Bureau is supposed to make sure the schools comply with stated admission requirements and agreements, conduct quality assurance, vet the schools’ audited accounts and issue guidelines. Authorities will also carry out investigations if there are complaints against the schools.

On the face of it, it seems this monitoring system is comprehensive. So, are DSS schools really better choices for parents?

Lam Kin-wah’s response is affirmative. “Basically, the quality of DSS schools is undoubted,” says the chairman of the Hong Kong Direct Subsidy Scheme Schools Council (DSSSC), who is also the principal of the Fukien Secondary School.

Lam says DSS schools have more flexibility in their operations and curriculum and can offer higher quality education because of their extra resources. Using his own school as an example, he says it has offered both English as medium of instruction (EMI) and Chinese as medium of instruction (CMI) classes since early in 2000. Aided secondary schools just resumed EMI classes in 2009. If parents want their children to study in an EMI class, DSS schools would be a choice for them.

Another advantage, says Lam, is that DSS schools carry out small-class teaching, whereas this policy has only been implemented in aided primary schools. “You can see that the class size of DSS schools is smaller than aided schools. That is why parents prefer DSS schools,” Lam explains.

This is borne out by Iris Wong Wai-ling, whose two children went to DSS schools. Wong says her children got more attention from their teachers because there were only around 30 students in their classes. “You can easily approach their class teachers and they will remember who your children are. They will not treat you as passersby,” Wong says. She also believes DSS schools have the flexibility to recruit more teachers to improve their teaching quality.

For Wong, a measure of the quality of DSS schools is their ability to recruit good students. “I quite believe that input will affect output,” Wong says. “If schools admit good students, it is unlikely that their performance will worsen in five years time.”

But not all parents are as positive about the quality of DSS schools as Wong is. Mrs. Cheung, whose son graduated from Logos Academy in Tsang Kwan O in 2009, was not satisfied with the school.

Cheung, who refused to reveal her full name, paid $20,000 in tuition fees per year, an amount she found unreasonable. “The school charges such a big amount, but I think it is worse than other ordinary schools. I really do not know where the school fee goes,” she says.