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Breaking Free Through Her Lens

Amateur photographer Terenia Puspita.

Terenia Puspita shares her life as both a domestic helper and amateur photographer in Hong Kong.

By Bonnie Yam

Terenia Puspita was once a domestic worker who had no knowledge about Hong Kong politics. But after she witnessed the anti-Extradition Law Amendment Bill (anti-ELAB) movement in 2019, she felt the need to show her support for Hongkongers with her photos. 

“I was shocked to see children attending the protests. I was touched by their parents, as they teach their children about the city’s current situation and future, which my parents never taught me,” Puspita says.   

The domestic helper who has been working in Hong Kong for 10 years went to districts with violent clashes between protestors and police, such as Wan Chai, Admiralty and Shatin, to take pictures during the social movement in 2019.

Puspita did not tell her employer about taking photos at protest sites, as she does not want to mix up her work with her photography.

Puspita equipped herself with a helmet, gas mask and goggles when taking photos of the social movement. She was very cautious about her safety, especially after Veby Mega Indah, an Indonesian journalist, was shot in the eye during clashes on September 29, 2019. 

“Veby is a journalist. She had the official approval to report at protest sites, but she was still vulnerable. I was very worried, because the police conducted indiscriminate arrests,” she says.

In a collection of photos shot in her daily life and the protests, Puspita draws parallels between Hong Kong protestors and migrant workers.

Two photos taken by Terenia Puspita, entitled We Connected. (Photo courtesy of Terenia Puspita)

Puspita’s picture series, entitled We Connected, featured two photos taken in 2019. One shows a migrant worker who fights against patriarchy by wearing a traditional mask, which is usually worn by male performers at traditional festivals in Indonesia. Another is about Hong Kong protestors wearing Vendetta masks fighting for democracy in the 2019 social movement. 

Her work was featured in We Making Home Kong, a month-long photo exhibition organised by Lensational in February, 2021. It is a non-governmental organisation that has provided photography training for more than 400 foreign domestic workers. 

In her other photo series, Under the Same Umbrella, a scene of Indonesian domestic helpers discussing the 2019 Indonesian general election, and a scene from the anti-ELAB protests in 2019 were captured. Umbrellas were raised in both photos.   “Indonesians believe that their country is democratic, but despotic power is still exercised by some high-ranking officials. And in Hong Kong, democracy and freedom are no longer respected. People in both places are still fighting,” Puspita says.

Standing Up

“Before learning photography, I only focused on my needs. But with photography, I have learnt to speak up for myself and others. It makes me feel like a human again,” she says. 

Puspita first learned photography when she just arrived in Hong Kong in 2011, she then gradually became an amateur photographer. 

“But with photography, I have learnt to speak up for myself and others. It makes me feel like a human again.”

Her photos were published in Via Community Zine, a local magazine published by Via North Point, in December, 2020, and Indonesian publications like Suara, where she worked as a voluntary author, in 2018. 

Born to a Muslim family in a village of East Java, she has never dreamt of becoming an amateur photographer. 

“Usually photographers in Indonesia are men, and I want to break this kind of tradition,” says Puspita. “I grew up with a mindset that women can only work in kitchens. Our purpose of life is to get married, have children, and take care of our family,” she adds. 

Graduated from high school in 2011, Puspita was very curious about the outside world. So when her uncle offered her a chance to work in Hong Kong, she accepted it without much hesitation. But she surely did not foresee her first job turning into a nightmare. 

“My employer doesn’t have a kind soul. I didn’t have a good place to rest. I had no privacy and holidays. I didn’t hold my passport, ID, and phone. And I was underpaid!” she recalls. 

Puspita never complained because she thought it was common. But after seven months, she became mentally ill and finally asked for help from other migrant workers. 

Fortunately, her agency took her case to the Labour Department, and they sued her employer on her behalf. She switched to another agency and participated in Lensational’s photography workshops, where she learned professional photography skills. 

Puspita certainly stands out while walking through crowds of migrant workers. The 30-year-old wears a black cap instead of a Hijab and now carries her DSLR camera everywhere. She is also getting a tattoo that symbolises hope, which is forbidden in Islam, the largest religion in Indonesia. 

Three years ago, Puspita stood up to her mother and refused to return home to get married. She has not returned to Indonesia for 10 years. 

“Although I feel lonely at my workplace, I feel free,” she says.

Workers With Dreams 

Puspita is not the only one with dreams. She believes other workers are unaware of their possibilities and rights, so they tend to give up easily. 

“Migrant workers don’t have the courage to speak up. They just follow their employers’ orders. Can you really work 24 hours a day and six days a week in your workplace? ” she says. 

Puspita hopes to hold a photo exhibition featuring photos of migrant workers showcasing their talents. 

As her contract ended in last April, Puspita planned to find a job in Korea or Poland. But the pandemic made her think twice. At last, she decided to work another two years in Hong Kong.

“Hong Kong feels like home, but the freedom we enjoyed is gone,” she says.

“Hong Kong feels like home, but the freedom we enjoyed is gone.”

Edited by Kassandra Lai
Sub-edited by Charleen Chen

High School Student Starts NGO to Fight Period Poverty

Peng Wanqian checking menstrual pads sold in a store in China.

A high school student devotes herself to helping girls suffering from period poverty in China.

By Ella Lang in Chongqing

When most high school students are busy preparing for university entrance examinations in China, Peng Wanqian struggles to strike a balance between her study and her NGO work.

Peng, a 19-year-old high school student in Chengdu, founded a student organisation Stand TogetHer in February 2020, to help girls suffering from period poverty in China.

The organisation launched a programme to donate menstrual pads to teenage girls in Zhaojue County in Sichuan Province in August 2020.

By collaborating with Shanghai Rende Foundation, an established charity foundation founded in 2011, Stand TogetHer raised around RMB ¥124,000 (US $17,500) from more than 2,800 donors online in 28 hours during August 2020.

“Raising so much money in such a short period of time was far beyond my expectation. We only had 500 followers on our public WeChat account, and we were just a small team of eight members at that time,” Peng says.

“I try my best to balance my NGO work and study. But one cannot put too much on one plate. Sometimes I have to make a sacrifice,” Peng says.

On October 11, 2020, Peng and her teammates distributed menstrual pads, bought with the money raised, to about 700 schoolgirls in Zhaojue. The activity clashed with Peng’s TOEFL examination.

“I nearly broke down at that time. In the end, I skipped my exam and went to Zhaojue. My mom accompanied and comforted me the whole way,” Peng says.

“I never regret the decision I made. It is impossible to strike a balance between my studies and my charity work. All I can do is force myself to learn more efficiently,” she adds.

Motivation

What motivated Peng to commit to charity work and even sacrifice her own studies was her first encounter with the concept of period poverty five years ago when she was only 14.

She came across a YouTube video explaining how homeless females in America deal with menstruation.

But Peng did not link it to the situation in China at once. She began paying attention to women’s menstrual issues two years ago, during her first year of high school.

“One day I borrowed a pad from a classmate. She tucked it in her sleeve and passed it to me secretly,” she recalls.

“Then I thought to myself, why do we act like this? Then I realized this is a sign of period shame,” she adds.

Peng says she used to be one of the girls who used black plastic bags to carry pads after buying them and avoided saying ‘menstrual pads’ in public.

The embryo of Stand TogetHer was a research team studying toxic masculinity in December 2019.

Five high school girls in the team, including Peng, created a public WeChat account called ‘Stand TogetHer’ to post their thoughts about gender issues in February 2020. Then they turned it into an organisation.

The NGO’s first project was about donating menstrual pads to female medical workers fighting on the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic in Wuhan in March 2020.

“The scale of donation was small. We raised about RMB ¥10,000 (US $1,500) in three days. Nobody in our team had any experience in doing this, and we encountered many difficulties in operation,” Peng says.

“We did not know how to raise funds online. And it was hard for us to reach out to period product companies for sponsorships since we were just high school students,” she adds.

“Some members wanted to quit due to pressure, but everyone worked really hard. We sent messages to customer service teams of period product companies on Taobao and used all available channels to raise funds. Finally, we were able to donate 240 boxes of pads to the frontline workers,” she adds.

First Step

Peng then set her sights on Zhaojue County in Sichuan Province, one of the poorest areas in China.

In June 2020, Peng, together with four other students from Stand TogetHer, visited Zhaojue to learn about the period poverty problem schoolgirls faced there.

Peng Wanqian packing pads into bags with her teammates. (Photo courtesy of Stand TogetHer)

“A teacher told us the children’s weekly pocket money was between RMB ¥2 (US $0.3) and RMB ¥10 (US $1.5). But the average price of a pad is about RMB ¥1 per pad. Very few girls could afford it, so many girls use tissues as a cheaper alternative,” Peng says.

Back to Chengdu, Peng did research to learn about period poverty online. She searched ‘period poverty’ on Baidu, the biggest search engine in China.

“The search results were all about period poverty in India, Scotland, and America. I did not find anything about period poverty in China,” Peng says.

Peng decided to raise money to help girls facing period poverty in Zhaojue and arouse public awareness about the issue.

“We planned to raise RMB ¥90,000 (US $14,000) in half a year, but surprisingly, we got around RMB ¥124,000 (US $17,500) in two days,” Peng says.

Her NGO used the money to offer free menstrual pads, enough for a whole year, to 700 teenage girls in a local primary school in Zhaojue.

Teenage girls carrying bags full of pads. (Photo courtesy of Stand TogetHer)

“For the first time, I know that my ideas can be turned into reality with the help of strangers. It really touches me that many people are willing to donate money to an unknown organisation run by high school students,” Peng says.

“For the first time, I know that my ideas can be turned into reality with the help of strangers. It really touches me that many people are willing to donate money to an unknown organisation run by high school students.”

Future

Peng will go to America to start her university life in September this year, but she says she will continue to lead the project.

“I will still go to Zhaojue every year and monitor the progress of our project there. And Stand TogetHer will expand the scale of donation to help more teenage girls suffering from period poverty in Sichuan Province,” Peng says.

The organisation will also organise training sessions about menstrual hygiene for schoolgirls in Zhaojue.

“We are collaborating with medical students at Sichuan University. They are professionally trained and some of them come from Liangshan Yi autonomous prefecture, where Zhaojue County belongs,” she says.

“The identity of high school students is a double-edged sword. We may be questioned for lacking experience and sometimes being irresponsible. But at the same time, we can make use of our student identity to capture media attention, which will help arouse public awareness about period poverty,” Peng says.

Edited by Charleen Chen
Sub-edited by Agnes Lam

Why Don’t we Talk about Sex?

Vera Lui Wing-hang is both a sex toy shop owner and a sex educator promoting positive sex. (Photo courtesy of Vera Lui Wing-hang)

Vera Lui Wing-hang, a sex toy shop owner, shares her transformation from a girl with zero sex knowledge to a sex educator promoting positive sex.

By Angel Woo

Growing up in a Sex Taboo City

“Hi! I am Vera from Sally’s Toy. Perhaps many of you have heard of G-spot without knowing where it is. So today let me tell you how to find your G-spot,” says Vera Lui Wing-hang in her first YouTube video, holding a model of a vagina in her hand.

This video named “Tips about the G-spot that every girl should know” hit 2.4 million views since it was published in 2012. Since then, Lui has kept making YouTube videos regularly to educate people about sex. Her channel has about 102,000 subscribers and over 100 videos now.

Lui covers all topics relating to sex in her videos such as – “How to find the perfect condom?”, “What if my girlfriend doesn’t let me masturbate?”, “Can you swallow semen?” and so on.

She runs a sex toy shop in Hong Kong since 2010 and produces YouTube videos to clear public misconceptions about sex. The sex toy shop owner also gives sex advice through social media as she often receives messages from her customers. 

Vera Lui Wing-hang runs a sex toy shop in Hong Kong since 2010. (Photo courtesy of Vera Lui Wing-hang)

But the sex educator was once ignorant towards sex. 

“When I was young, nobody taught me about sex. I never thought of sex or masturbation, and never imagined having sex in a relationship,” Lui says.

Born in a traditional family, her parents never taught her about sex. Anything relating to sex is taboo in her family (conversations). “Sex should not be discussed – this is my family’s sex education,” she recalls.

“I was having a family gathering when I had my first period. I told my mom when I saw blood stains on my underwear and she secretly took me to the toilet,” she says.

“‘This is a sanitary napkin. Stick it to your underwear. From now on, you have to do this every month.’ – that’s all she told me, and we never talked about this topic again,” she recalls.

“When I stepped out of the toilet, my cousins asked what happened. My mom just said ‘Shh! Nothing happened!’ and my aunties said, ‘Don’t ask!’, that was when I learned that periods were something I should not talk about,” Lui says.

The first porn she watched was a DVD given by one of her classmates when she was in secondary school. “A boy in my class asked me to pass a DVD to another boy. That DVD had no packaging, so I asked what it was. They said it is not suitable for girls. But I was curious, so I asked them to let me watch it,” Lui recalls.

“I was not too shocked when I watched it, because all the sex scenes were blurred. But I knew I could not let others know that I watched the sex video, so I threw the DVD into a public rubbish bin after watching it,” she says.

Lui, now 34 years old, said that the first time she had sex was when she was 16 years old.

“All I could remember is that my thighs were in so much pain. You need some flexibility when doing sex, but I am not a flexible person,” she says with a laugh.

“The whole process finished so quickly, and it was not enjoyable at all. Before I turned 24, sex was not something I wanted,” she says.

The Enlightenment of Sex

A new chapter began when the then 24-year-old Lui was given a vibrator that was shaped like a cigar when she was on a date with her boyfriend. A vibrator is a type of sex toy that creates sexual stimulation through vibration. On that night, she finally found a healthy relationship with sex and had her first orgasm.

“I did not know how to masturbate so I googled for several hours before using it. On that night, I started to explore what exactly a vagina was, where the G spot was and how to stimulate the clitoris,” Lui recalls.

“I never knew I could have such relationship with my body. Why did no one ever tell me that masturbation is so pleasurable?”, Lui sighs.

“It was so empowering. I used to think of sex as a way to please my boyfriend. But I finally realized that I own my body and I have the right to enjoy sex,” she says. ‘That night’ changed her completely. She then founded Sally’s Toy, an intimate lifestyle store aiming to encourage positive discussion about sex. 

“On that night, I started to explore what exactly a vagina was, where the G spot was and how to stimulate the clitoris.”

“I believe I am not the only one who has little sex knowledge in Hong Kong. But why does nobody tell us about sex? So, I was thinking if no one talks about it, then let me talk about it. That’s how the story of Sally’s Toy began,” she says. 

In 2019, she became a certified sex educator after studying a one-year sex education programme organised by the Family Planning Association of Hong Kong and learnt the practical skills on how to communicate with clients to solve their sexual difficulties.

Educating Sex Differently

To Lui, sex education is not only about sex. “The fundamental of sex education is about self-love and loving others,” she says.

“Once we can respect our own bodies, it is a way of self-love. When you respect others in a relationship, it is a way of loving others,” Lui explains.

She also gives sex education workshops in schools such as the University of Hong Kong and HKICC Lee Shau Kee School of Creativity. Her way to educate people about sex is different from traditional theory-based sex education.

Vera Lui Wing-hang gives a sex education workshop. (Photo courtesy of Vera Lui Wing-hang)

“When I was teaching at HKICC Lee Shau Kee School of Creativity, I organised a condom-making workshop with a condom producer Sagami. It would be easier for the secondary students to understand the importance to have safer sex in a more interactive way than in the classroom,” she says.

From Lui’s observation, teenagers usually feel embarrassed to discuss and reach a consensus with their partner before sex. She opted for a unique way to help the teens breaking the shackles.

“In a relationship of BDSM (Bondage & Discipline, Sadism & Masochism), communication between partners is very important. So, I organised a BDSM workshop for them to understand the importance of communication through roping the body of others,” Lui says.

“The fundamental of sex education is about self-love and loving others.”

Her sex toy shop is another type of classroom for sex education. “Our shop is like a pharmacy which gives basic advice to patients. People seek advice from us when they encounter sex problems,” she says.

Her hard work paid off. One day, when Lui was walking on the street, a middle-aged lady bumped into her and said: “Are you Vera? Thank you so much for your videos and your products!”

“I am divorced and could have never imagined having sexual pleasure after the split. But I started exploring my body after watching your videos and had the first taste of orgasm. I never experienced it when I had sex with my ex-husband,” the lady explained.

“I will never forget how excited she was. This encourages me a lot and it’s the drive for me to keep doing positive sex education,” she says delightedly.

She understands there is still a long way to go for Hong Kong’s sex education. It is not easy to talk about sex in a sex taboo city, but she is still positive.

“I would already be grateful if I could help seven people in the seven million in Hong Kong,” Lui says.

Edited by Savoki Zhang

Sub-edited by Sarah Ryou

From Body Shaming to Body Positivity

Body positive cartoonist Melissa Cheung Chin-sui. (Photo courtesy of Melissa Cheung)

Melissa Cheung Chin-sui shares her transformation from a body shamer to a body-positive advocate.

By Charmaine Choi

Cheung posts Instagram stories and posts daily to advocate for body positivity.

“Everyone should be able to dress up in the way they want,” the 27-year-old cartoonist says.

Cheung runs an Instagram cartoon page with 16,700 followers.

 “Drawings can be easily understood by everyone, and therefore my work can reach a larger audience (compared to texts),” she adds.

Other than body positivity, Cheung also advocates for feminism and gender rights on her page.


“Everyone should have gender awareness. It is unfair that people are stereotyped because of their gender.”

“Everyone should have gender awareness. It is unfair that people are stereotyped because of their gender,” she says.

As an active advocate, Cheung receives comments and messages from haters. “The concept of feminism is still new to Hong Kong. People always mix up misogyny with feminism,” she explains.

Cheung is not afraid to make her stance clear, she chooses to respond to them instead of shying away. She often posts screen capture of her clapping back at her haters’ comments on her social media platform.

“I hope the public can make their own judgements regarding those hate comments. I guess people are not going to beat me up for that,” she says with a laugh.

The Wakeup Call

LIHKG is a Hong Kong-based forum where hot topics are discussed among Hongkongers. The forum made Cheung famous four years ago.

Cheung relied on LIHKG to learn about the latest news in the city when she studied veterinary science in Australia.

“LIHKG users always judge and make fun of the appearance of female celebrities and even random girls they see on the streets,” she says.

Cheung was not aware it was body-shaming at the time and even joined discussions about female body shapes.

In July 2017, a male Instagram follower of Cheung caught her attention. The male follower claimed to be cool and good-looking in his bio. Out of curiosity, Cheung asked him for pictures.

After getting his picture, Cheung contacted him through private messages saying: “You look like a pervert who rapes woman” and “Your style is so outdated, change it up”. She made negative comments on his appearance.

She then posted the conversation on LIHKG. Netizens started bombarding her with messages attacking her appearance saying she was fat and ugly.

Her personal information such as her educational background and phone number was revealed online. Her confidence and body image dropped to a new low.

“I refused to take selfies at the time. I did not want to look at my body,” she says.

Having experienced body-shaming herself, she realised how damaging it can be to one’s self-perception. She then became interested in learning about gender issues and body image.

She read books analysing the feminist ideals, including one she referred to as the “fundamental to feminism” — Misogyny in Japan by Chizuko Ueno.

She also visited websites such as edX, a platform that provides free university-level courses to learn more about the power dynamics between genders.

Foreign cartoonists on Instagram such as @eloisemarseille and @cartoonshateher have taught her to embrace and appreciate different body types.

“I learned that everyone should be loved and respected regardless of their appearance. As a person who has been down the road before, I hope to share my thoughts and reflection,” she says.

This one-year learning journey was crucial to her awakening. After the reconstruction of a brand-new mindset, she felt that advocating gender rights and body positivity is the best way to make up for her wrongdoings.

In 2018, Cheung decided to start an Instagram cartoon page dedicated to body positivity and other gender-related issues.

Cartoons on Melissa Cheung’s Instagram Page (@meltoo.edu.hk) feature various topics, including gender issues and body images.

From a Cartoonist to an “Online Chick”

After learning about body positivity, Cheung thinks women should decide what they wish to do with their bodies. She started creating sexual content on online platforms such as Patreon and OnlyFans as a symbol of bodily autonomy since 2020 for money.

“I enjoy expressing sex by taking revealing pictures and sharing them with others. Isn’t it nice that I can earn some pocket money while doing something that I love?” she says.

Patreon and OnlyFans are online platforms that allow content creators to gain monetary support from their fans by providing exclusive content.

These platforms have attracted a number of sexual content providers like Cheung to earn money through providing pictures of her in lingerie and photos of her being topless.

Patreon page of Melissa Cheung (Photo courtesy of Melissa Cheung)

“I do not see anything wrong with making money with one’s body. I call myself an ‘online chick’. This is my take on reclaiming ‘chick’,” she says.

Cheung also treats her topless photos as advocacy of “Free the Nipple”. “Male nipples are equivalent to female nipples, why is it that only female nipples are censored?” she questions.

OnlyFans page of Melissa Cheung (Photo courtesy of Melissa Cheung)

Cheung disagrees with the idea that producing sexual content is materialising females. She thinks that sexual content provision is a way for females to be in control of their bodies.

“It does not mean that I am putting a price tag on myself. I am only putting a price tag on the photos that I provide,” she says.

 “There are people who support me on Patreon and OnlyFans because they support my advocacy. It is not just about my body,” she adds.

Moving on

Cheung hopes that Hong Kong people can learn to adopt a less gender-stereotypical view and recognise individuality. “We are all different in our own ways. It is over-simplifying to generalise our differences according to our genders,” she says.

“I body-shamed others in the first place, so I deserve to be attacked by others in return,” Cheung says recalling what happened in LIHKG four years ago. 

” Body-shaming should be stopped. More people should stand up against this toxic culture.”

“Body-shaming should be stopped. More people should stand up against this toxic culture,” she adds.

Edited by Sarah Ryou
Sub-edited by Alice Wang

Heart of Cyberpunk

Cyberpunk film Ghost in the Shell (2017) was filmed along Victoria Harbour.

Hong Kong’s unique urban landscape is featured in cyberpunk films and animations.

By Winkie Ng

  • Circular Footbridge at Yee Wo Street was featured in 2017 American cyberpunk film Ghost in the Shell.
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Cyberpunk fan Kwong Tsz-wun always finds traces of Hong Kong in cyberpunk movies. 

“Iconic cyberpunk films like Blade Runner and Ghost in the Shell are set in Hong Kong. Both Japanese animation and American live-action remake of Ghost in the Shell feature Hong Kong as the setting. The animated version (made in 1995) used Kowloon City and Kai Tak Airport as a backdrop for some scenes,” he says.

The American remake of Ghost in the Shell released in 2017 has some scenes filmed in Yau Ma Tei and along Victoria Harbour.

Kwong, who is a lecturer at the Department of Chinese Language and Literature at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK), has been interested in cyberpunk culture since he was a child.

He even wrote a research paper analysing a cyberpunk book, Last_year@alu.bar (去年在阿魯吧) by Ho Ching-pin, a Taiwanese author in 2013.

“It is interesting that cyberpunk culture has not thrived in Hong Kong, while Hong Kong has prominent presence in many cyberpunk films,” Kwong says.

Kwong finds the setting in cyberpunk film Blade Runner similar to present-day Hong Kong. 

“Another title for Blade Runner is 2020. It is set in 2020, which overlaps the current era. Scenes of cybercity, artificial intelligence and the essence of the film echo Hong Kong’s (technological and social) environment in 2019 and 2020,” he says.

Kwong has mixed feelings whenever he sees Hong Kong in cyberpunk films.

“It looks and sounds familiar to me. But I feel sorry that Hong Kong shares similarities with cyberpunk settings. The themes of cyberpunk include confronting hegemony and having low standard of living in a high technology society ― Just like the current situation in Hong Kong,” he says.

Grace Leung Lai-kuen, a lecturer at the School of Journalism and Communication at CUHK, says cyberpunk films set in hi-tech society discuss how technology destroys humanity and causes disparity between the rich and poor.

“Surreal imaginations of technology are represented by night views with dazzling lights,” she adds.

She thinks Hong Kong’s night view is full of potential and attracts filmmakers to set cyberpunk films in Hong Kong. “Hong Kong’s landscape is very beautiful, especially the night view…When neon signs are lit at night, you can create a cyberpunk ambience easily by blurring or using filters,” she says.

She also points out that having high level of urbanization and many postmodern architectures are other reasons for cyberpunk films being set in Hong Kong.

“Hong Kong’s landscape suits cyberpunk films. Hong Kong is densely populated with many skyscrapers, contrasting old and new buildings and buildings with different shapes. It is so unique and creates great visual effects for cyberpunk films,” she says.

With the advantage of being a cyberpunk city, Leung thinks Hong Kong should make good use of it.

“Hong Kong as a city has great potential. Her charm is captured in cyberpunk films. So why not promote it to Hongkongers and visitors? It would be nice to appreciate this city from this new perspective,” she says.

Edited by Agnes Lam
Sub-edited by Bonita Wong


Dear Santa

Mymailbox852 is an organization that promotes letter writing when people nowadays mainly text and send emoji.

By Winkie Ng

When was the last time you wrote a letter with a pen? In this digital era, people always use instant messaging tools for communication.

Diana Lee Tsoi-wing founded Mymailbox852 in 2013 to spread love and happiness through handwriting. She was motivated by a disappointing experience her younger sister had after writing a letter to Santa Clause.

“My sister only received a response letter template from Santa Clause. I think children will be upset if they receive such a reply. So I decided to be Santa Clause and handwrite reply letters,” she says.

Camp for volunteers in December 2018
 (Photo courtesy of Mymailbox852)

Replying to letters as Santa Clause in December 2013 was their first campaign. Only Lee and two to three of her friends helped to handwrite reply letters during that time.

“As many did not know about our campaign in the first year, we only received around 100 letters,” Lee recalls.

The campaign is now an annual event. Over 100 volunteers are recruited and around 3,000 to 4,000 letters are replied each year. They occasionally set up stalls in carnivals and markets in Hong Kong and Taiwan to promote letter writing.

Lee says volunteers are recruited through online promotion, schools and referrals from partners.

People can send letters to them by post, Google form and write letters at carnivals and market stalls. Volunteers will reply to the letters and send them back.

Mymailbox852 ran a stall in Hoikokdaytan 2046 (海角地攤2046), a waterfront market in West Kowloon Cultural District in December 2015 
(Photo courtesy of Mymailbox852)

Lee says senders sometimes share their problems and difficulties in their letters. For example, they write about being stressed out by school or their family members suffering from severe illness. They also reply to letters from public examination candidates who seek support. 

“The limitations of replying to letters is that we cannot physically help them. But we can give them encouragement and help turn their negative vibes into positive energy by using counselling skills,” says Lee, who studied counselling at university.

She says camps and workshops are held to train volunteers. They learn how to do replies in training sessions and form friendships with each other through the activities.  

Lee thinks equipping volunteers with counselling skills is meaningful. 

“In Hong Kong, people talk to their friends instead of social workers when they feel sad. If volunteers gain some counselling skills, they can help others,” she says.

Lee says volunteers with different backgrounds can brainstorm more ideas to help letter senders and learn from each other through discussions.

“If you are one of our volunteers and you are a student, you may not know how to write back to someone who is jobless. Another volunteer who has a job can help you and you can learn too,” she adds.

Lee welcomes everyone to join her team. “The most important trait is sincerity,” she says.

Workshop of teaching volunteers to reply letters was held in December 6, 2017 
(Photo courtesy of Mymailbox852)

“Everyone can be a counsellor. It does not matter if you have not been trained in counselling or lack empathy. Others will help you. If you are willing to try, you will know how to respond to others’ emotions and concerns when giving replies,” she adds.

Interested in knowing more about volunteering or sending letters? Check out their Facebook page Mymailbox852 | Facebook for updates or visit their website https://www.mymailbox852.com/ for more details.

Edited by Agnes Lam
Sub-edited by Bonita Wong


Fitness on the Ropes – Editor’s Note

The Fitness industry has been suffering a sharp slump in business due to the ongoing coronavirus pandemic.

Gym centres were closed for months to reduce infection risk that the government only allows them to reopen from February 18th, 2021.

Just when there is light at the end of the COVID-19 tunnel, an outbreak at Ursus Fitness in Sai Ying Pun sends shock waves to the embattled fitness industry.

A total of 122 cases were related to the gym, according to a figure from the Centre for Health Protection as of March 15, the second-largest cluster outbreak in Hong Kong.

Many fitness coaches had no income when gym centres were closed, as all classes were cancelled.

But they still had to cover the rents and maintenance fees of their gym centres.  Coaches and sportsmen trainers are disappointed by the government’s response to their sufferings. They criticized the government’s response as being too careless and unaware of the current situation of the industry.

In this issue of Varsity, we look into the fitness industry in Hong Kong.  Our reporters interviewed coaches and fitness centres owners, to find out their difficulties and how they coped with online classes.

Varsity also explores other social issues such as the latest development in telemedicine, young couples’ sex vacation, struggles of an ethnic minority student, K-pop industry, innovative virtual art, and Christian music in Hong Kong. Our reporters in mainland China report young gay men under family pressure and the podcast industry in the country.

Enjoy the read, and we wish all the best for everyone.  Stay safe and healthy!

Sarah Ryou

Chief Editor

Fitness Classes Going Online

Coaches face difficulties conducting online fitness classes during the pandemic.

By Leung Pak Hei

Lee Yuk-shan has been conducting weight management classes online since the first closure of gym centres in March 2020. Despite fitness facilities being allowed to re-open on February 18, 2021, the 26-year-old coach is still worried about possible closures in the future.

Lee Yuk-shan has been working as a coach since he was 18. (Photo courtesy of Lee Yuk-shan)

“If gyms are forced to shut down again, our business may not survive,” he says.  

His worry is more real than ever because of a rapidly expanding cluster of COVID-19 infections linked to a gym in Sai Ying Pun in early March, less than a month that the city’s embattled fitness industry is allowed to resume business. 

The government announced on March 11 that masks should be worn at all times in fitness facilities, except during shower. Immediately after the new outbreak, Lee hired a cleaning company to clean his gym and asked his students to wear masks when exercising.

Tsang Put-long’s facility posts notice on their IG page, indicating temporary closure under the government policy.
(Photo courtesy of @campusclimbing_hk)

Having taught weight management classes online for a year, Lee thinks it does not work in the long run. “When doing online classes, you need to make a lot of effort. But you receive very little in return. It is hard to make profit,” he says. 

Lee adds that it is difficult to make money through online classes. He believes one of the reasons is fierce competition.

“During the pandemic, there are many YouTubers who provide information on fitness and exercise for free. People are not willing to pay for something they can get for free,” Lee explains. “YouTubers also have a lot of resources, so it is hard to compete with them,” he says. 

The coach and most of his students prefer physical interaction.

“When having online classes, I am restricted by students’ cameras. It is very difficult to see their whole bodies and help them improve their form,” says Lee, who has been working as a coach since he was 18.

“Some beginners may refuse to follow instructions. For example, when you ask them to add more weight, they may not listen,” he adds.

“We also need to take care of their safety, but we cannot make sure of that through online classes. If they get hurt, we cannot physically help them,” he says.

Hong Kong has been struggling to contain the spread of COVID-19 since the first case was reported in January 2020. The government announced social distancing measures to combat the pandemic. Gyms and other fitness facilities have closed and then reopened three times since the beginning of the pandemic to reduce infection risk.

Source: info.gov.hk

On December 8, 2020, the government ordered the closure of all gyms and sports venues starting from December 10. 

The facilities and venues were allowed to reopen on February 18, 2021, under the condition that full-time staff are required to do mandatory testing every two weeks. Visitors are required to scan the QR code with the “Leave Home Safe” app or provide their personal information to facilitate tracking in case an infection is reported at these centres.

Cheung Koon-tung, a member of the Hong Kong Fitness and Combat Sports Alliance, shares Lee’s thoughts. With the re-opening of fitness facilities, Cheung thinks that resuming physical classes is better than doing online classes. “There is more equipment at gym centres, so fitness training can be conducted in a more all-rounded manner,” he says.

Cheung Koon-tung is a representative of the Hong Kong Fitness and Combat Sports Alliance. (Photo courtesy of Cheung Koon0tung)

As a private fitness coach and an owner of a fitness facility, Cheung states that online teaching is not as good as face-to-face coaching. “A good atmosphere is very important for exercise. But students may not have enough space for online fitness classes at home, or they may have children at home which may cause hindrance and affect their mood,” Cheung says. 

“Also, if a coach cannot physically instruct students, it is hard to know whether they understand how to exercise properly,” he continues. He adds that while online classes provide another choice for people who do not want to go outdoors, many of them may quit exercising due to low motivation.

Cheung also thinks that online classes provide them with little financial support. “The income is much lower compared to offering physical classes in fitness centres. Coaches only earn a few dozen Hong Kong dollars a lesson. Very few people sign up and join the classes,” Cheung says.

“Some centres do not have enough money to invest in equipment, such as cameras and computers, for online classes. This increases their financial burden,” he adds.

Online teaching mode is also not an option for Tsang Put-long, owner of a rock-climbing facility. He points out that it is very hard to do online classes with the type of sport he specialises in.

“We need a rock face in order to practice rock climbing. It is difficult to teach students the needed skills, and it is not something they can practice at home,” Tsang says. 

Tsang had no income during the period his centre was closed from December 10, 2020. As he could not do online classes, he was forced to pay HK$70,000 a month for rent with profits he made earlier on. 

Tsang Put-long is the owner of a rock-climbing facility. (Photo courtesy of Tsang Put-long)

After Tsang’s rock-climbing centre was allowed to re-open, his revenue has still not returned to the level during the period before the closure. “Our revenue has dropped by around 25 per cent. We have fewer students now than we used to have,” Tsang says.

Despite this, Tsang has no desire to do online classes. “The difficulties of doing online classes remain. Now that we can re-open, we plan to hold more physical classes,” he says. 

Chow Chi-ngan, an assistant lecturer from the Department of Sport Science and Physical Education of the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes that online coaching may lead to undesirable effects for students. 

“When training lessons are online, instructions may be unclear and leads to exercising with improper technique. Coaches cannot monitor students and they may get injured,” Chow explains. 

Despite the difficulties, Chow thinks that online fitness classes will continue in the future. “I have told my students to film clips of them exercising at home as I do, so I can use them in the future for teaching,” Chow says.

The lecturer believes that people of this generation should be more open-minded and try to explore different ways of exercising. She suggests coaches could think of different kinds of exercises that can be done easily and safely at home, such as bodyweight training, circuit training and high-intensity interval training.

Chow also encourages coaches to exercise with students during lessons. The lecturer says coaches can provide feedback and instructions during the process to motivate students.

Edited by Laurissa Liu
Sub-edited by Agnes Lam

Struggling to Workout a Way

Hong Kong Elite Volleyball Academy’s volleyball classes before the pandemic (Photo courtesy of Siu Cheong-hung)

Fitness industry has been suffering from COVID-19 and the financial situation of practitioners is still hanging in the balance even after the reopening policy. 

By Felicia Lam

Jason Tang Chun-man, owner of Jason Fitness has mixed feelings about his centre’s operation as the fight against COVID-19 in Hong Kong is threatened by a rapidly ballooning outbreak at a gym.

Jason Tang Chun-man
owner of Jason Fitness 
(Photo courtesy of 
Jason Tang Chun-man)

According to the Centre for Health Protection, there are already 122 cases related to the cluster outbreak in Ursus Fitness in Sai Ying Pun as of March 15. It is now the second-largest cluster outbreak in Hong Kong.

Gyms across the city were closed for months due to COVID-19 restrictions. The government announced on February 10, 2021 that fitness centres would be allowed to reopen on February 18. All staff members have to do a COVID-19 test every 14 days and all gym centres are required to install ventilation facilities inside their venues.

Having reopened for only a month, Tang’s operation, which offers fitness and Muay Thai classes, is heavily impacted by the Ursus Fitness cluster outbreak.

“A lot of our students have cancelled their bookings or stop having classes in our centre. There are around 30 to 40 per cent fewer students in our centre now,” he says.

“But I do not think that I am unlucky. Things are no longer under my control, so there is nothing that I can do now,” he adds. 

Tang says that he felt helpless and frustrated in the past few months when his centre was closed.

“I used my savings to pay rent for my fitness centre and mortgage for my flat. I have to take care of my jobless wife and my parents. I need HK $60,000 to HK $70,000 a month for all these expenses,” says Tang, who has worked as a full-time coach for seven years. 

Jason Tang Chun-man’s fitness centre was closed for about six months in 2020. 
(Photo courtesy of Jason Tang Chun-man)

Fitness centres were closed as one of the government’s measures to reduce infection risk during the pandemic. Tang gained zero income from his centre since he had to close it and cancel all his classes.

Tang has organized “takeaway classes” at parks near students’ homes, trying to earn some extra money. “I made HK $10,000 a month from these classes, but that only translates to one-tenth of my original income,” he says. 

He stopped holding “takeaway classes” after the reopening of his centre and focuses on operating his fitness centre. 

Problems Caused by the Regulation on Venues

Siu Cheong-hung, founder and volleyball coach of Hong Kong Elite Volleyball Academy (HKEVA), shares Tang’s worries. He is also not sure if his academy can operate to its full capacity. 

Siu Cheong-hung, founder and volleyball coach of Hong Kong Elite Volleyball Academy
(Photo courtesy of Siu Cheong-hung)

The government announced the Leisure and Cultural Service Department (LCSD) indoor sports venues would be reopened on February 18, 2021.

 “A majority of our classes are using LCSD venues. We are still working on booking these venues. We hope that about 70 to 80 per cent of our classes will resume in March,” he says. 

“Our coaches and I are very happy about the reopening of LCSD venues. This makes us feel hopeful and we have regained our motivation to work hard,” he adds.

But Siu is still uncertain whether secondary and primary schools will reopen their venues for volleyball training. 

“I have lost my main source of income as a volleyball coach during the pandemic. I need to take up jobs like working as a private coach or a substitute teacher in secondary and primary schools,” says Siu, who organises volleyball class for schools and adults.

His monthly income dropped from HK $50,000 before the pandemic to HK $20,000 on average. He adds that the income he earns from his other jobs is not stable.

Indoor volleyball courts in Hong Kong were closed down for about eight months in 2020. Almost all volleyball classes organised by HKEVA were cancelled during the pandemic.

“We are not like tutorial classes which can be operated in a small room. We need a venue that is big enough to practice volleyball techniques. We were forced to stop when all venues that could be used for our classes were closed,” he says. 

Industry’s Voice Unheard

Yeung Chi-yin, a member of the Hong Kong Fitness and Combat Sports Alliance, says that the alliance members are disappointed with the government’s lack of assistance to gym centres when they were closed.

The alliance represents small to middle size gyms and fitness schools in Hong Kong with 28 core members. They were formed in March 2020 after the government’s orders to close all fitness centres and gyms as a preventive measure.

Yeung Chi-yin (Upper row, first from left) attending a press conference with fitness industry representatives and politicians in when to voice out their grievances during the pandemic. 
(Photo courtesy of Yeung Chi-yin)

They had a meeting with Home Affairs Bureau officials regarding the closure order. “But the officials did not accept our views…and they did not listen to us at all,” says Yeung, who owns a fitness school called Gymer Factory. 

Yeung knows that other labour unions representing the fitness industry and chain stores have sought help from pro-government parties, such as the Liberal Party and lawmaker Ma Fung-kwok, representing Sport, Performing Arts, Culture, and Publication functional constituency.

“No matter who helps us voice out our needs, whether they are pan-democratic councillors or pro-establishment party members, the government just ignores all our concerns,” Yeung says.   

Lee Yue-shun (Lower row middle) attended a press conference in mid-January 2021 with fitness industry representatives to talk about the difficulties the industry was facing at that time. (Photo courtesy of Shun Lee Yue-shun)

“If the government’s measures are ineffective in preventing the outbreak, no matter how self-disciplined we are in following the government’s rules, the pandemic will not end,” he adds. 

The Government’s Flaws in its Decisions

Shun Lee Yue-shun, district councillor of Kam Ping in the Eastern District, has been helping the fitness industry by organizing press conferences and meetings with officials since March 2020. 

Lee thinks that the loophole of the government’s preventive measures is the lack of border control.

He knows that the number of centres applying to the government Anti-Epidemic Fund in September 2020 dropped by 400 to 1660 compared to April 2020. 

*Source from info.gov.hk

The district councillor criticised the government for having a poor understanding of the fitness industry. 

“The one-off HK $50,000 cash handout for us as compensation to business loss during the peak season in summer is obviously not enough,” Lee says.        

“Matthew Cheung Kin-chung, the chief secretary, uses the term ‘symbolic subsidy’ to describe the Anti-epidemic Fund for all industries. But different industries are facing various difficulties,” he adds.

Edited by Laurissa Liu
Sub-edited by Agnes Lam

Sex in the City

Couples in Hong Kong are finding space to get intimate with their partners.

By Charmaine Choi

Charles* is one of the many youths who chooses to enjoy intimacy with their lovers in hotels instead of at home. 

The 29-year-old, like many others in Hong Kong, shares a flat with his family. Despite having a room of his own, he still thinks that it is not an ideal private space to “Netflix and chill”. 

 “I want to keep my sex life and my family life apart,” he says. He considers visiting hotels for sexcation an act of respect towards both his parents and his partner.

“I want to keep my sex life and my family life apart.”

Tommy*, a 21-year-old student who lives with his family, also chooses to visit hotels for sex. He is worried that his parents may return home when he is making love with his girlfriend.

Tommy adds that sexcation allows him to spend quality time with his lover. “It is easier to get flirtatious with my girlfriend when we have sex in hotels rather than at home. The atmosphere is very different,” he says. “It feels like a private space where we can hang out, not just to have sex,” he adds.

The need for private space and privacy leads many youngsters in the city to indulge in their sexual desires at hotels instead of at home. According to a 2016 By-census report, 95 per cent of people aged 15 – 24 in Hong Kong were living with their parents. 

Jakub*, a 20-year-old student, who also lives with his family, is a frequent sexcationer. He prefers spending romantic moments in hotels because he wants to have some privacy. “My parents always go into my room without knocking on the door,” he says. 

He goes on sexcation at hotels once every two weeks and spends about HK $2,000 per month on accommodation.

Since the pandemic, hotel prices have decreased significantly. The average hotel price per day marked a 13.97 per cent decrease from December 2019 to March 2020 according to Colliers International, a global real estate investment firm.

* Source from Colliers International

A weekend getaway in a superior room at the Marco Polo Hong Kong Hotel, a five-star hotel in Tsim Sha Tsui, cost only HK $675 last February.

Jakub thinks that price is a major factor to consider when choosing hotels. “Sometimes I look on sexcation sharing pages on Instagram to find affordable hotels,” he says. Many Instagram pages are set up to share sexcation information, including prices, quality and services of different hotels for sexcationers. 

Room Busters is a sexcation sharing Instagram page run by Chloe* and Hugo*. They started the page because they found a lack of sexcation information on the Internet. “Like how a foodie reviews different restaurants, we also review different hotels we visit for sexcations,” Hugo says. 

Different coloured frames represent different price range.
(Photo courtesy of Room Busters)

Goopenroom, another sexcation-sharing Instagram page with 11,300 followers, is run by Mr. K* and his girlfriend. Unlike other sexcation sharing pages, they also started a YouTube channel to share video reviews on top of text and photo reviews.

“Photos are not comprehensive enough for followers to get a clear view of the hotel rooms,” Mr. K says. Their videos feature thorough information about hotels, including transportation route, interior design and facilities. 

“Many travel vloggers have filmed hotel reviews, but not many film reviews of hourly hotels. We may even be the first to do so in Hong Kong,” he says.

Mr. K and his girlfriend hope to provide more information on budget-friendly sexcation for young couples. “Most youths do not have much money, but they want to visit high-quality hotels at lower prices,” he adds.

Gooepnroom’s YouTube Channel
(Photo courtesy of Goopenroom)

Other than four-star and five-star hotels, hourly love hotels are also popular alternatives for sexcationers.

Mansion G Hotel is an hourly hotel co-founded by Jenson* in 2017. It is the first hourly hotel in Hong Kong offering self-service check-in. A passcode is provided to customers prior to check-in through an instant-messaging application. Customers can then use the passcode to unlock the reserved room without any contact with a receptionist.

Hotel rooms are locked by automatic digital locks.
(Photo courtesy of Mansion G Hotel)

“Some people feel awkward talking to a receptionist, and not everyone likes to have their sex lives revealed to strangers,” Jenson says.

Jenson reveals that his relatives do not approve of what he does and told him he would end up in hell for operating an hourly hotel. But he does not think so. “Booking a room for sex is just like booking a badminton court for badminton,” he says. 

No.7 Fortress Hill Hotel is another hourly hotel that provides contactless check-in service. Yee*, the hotel owner, started a new branch in February amid the pandemic. “The pandemic did not have a significant impact on our business. People have more time to go on sexcations,” she says. 

Yee also sells sex toys at her hotel. Customers can order sex toys during room reservation and the toys will be placed inside their rooms in advance. Among different types of sex toys she sells, disposable sex toys are the most popular.

A disposable sex toy sold in their hotel.
(Photo courtesy of No.7 Fortress Hill Hotel)

“Customers do not dare to bring sex toys home. Even if they have purchased non-disposable ones, they would rather throw them away after using them than bring them home,” she says. She adds that disposable sex toys offer trouble-free and affordable sexual pleasure to sexcationers.

Sonia Wong Yuk-ying, lecturer of Gender Studies Programme at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, says as sexcation becomes more common, people finally have a place to fulfil their natural needs.

“Sex is supposed to be something happy, why do people have to act like drug smugglers when they go on sexcation?” she adds. Wong especially appreciates the contactless check-in service offered by some hourly hotels. “It is a nice gesture to destigmatise sexcation. People can just go there to relax and be in control of their privacy,” she says.

“Sex is supposed to be something happy, why do people have to act like drug smugglers when they go on sexcation?”

Wong points out that the need for sex and intimate space is always there, but the rise of sexcation sharing pages on social media has brought it to light. 

“Being potent and sexually desired is great in our society. But at the same time, sex is still considered something shameful to talk about,” she adds.

*Names changed at interviewees’ request

Edited by Agnes Lam
Sub-edited by Bonita Wong

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Varsity CUHK
Varsity is an award-winning magazine created for the tertiary students and faculty of Hong Kong. It is written, edited and designed by students in the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong.
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