NEWS STORY
HONG KONG's HEART
In the shadow of the highrise forest, the capitalist
city is blossoming with soul
A Mister Softee ice cream truck stands outside the
entrance to Hong Kong's brand new Heritage Museum, a tinkly Skater's Waltz
wafting from its loudspeaker. It is Saturday afternoon and I have already
passed three wedding parties in the Shin Ha neighbourhood, brides
springing up like flowers, smiling for the cameras beside the jade-green
Shin Mun River.
Four years have passed since the "handover" of
Hong Kong to China. Yet, to the visitor, this "borrowed place living
on borrowed time"-- as The London Times famously phrased it --
retains its status as the eastern capital of capitalism: A highrise forest
where work is holy, suits out-class Savile Row, and scarves are pure
pashmina. Only the traffic moves on the left.
Still, beneath the capitalist fervour, Hong Kong is
changing. These days it is blossoming with soul; Hong Kong soul. An
oxymoron, surely? Not at all.
Take the case of the Heritage Museum. Patient locals
have directed me here, to a building so new some bamboo scaffolding still
clings to it. Inside, the place is buzzing. Five floors of family-friendly
exhibitions offer an animated glimpse into history: life-size re-creations
of villages, fishing boats, temples, shops stocked with simple wares.
Children surround one computer terminal, playing a game where villagers in
the New Territories fiercely resist British troops in 1898. (Revisionist,
but true.) In no time we pass into the Great Transformation -- the
mid-century highrise boom that left village life a mere memory. Elsewhere,
there is art from every dynasty, plus a series of rooms laden with
classical Chinese furniture. Teenagers wearing jeans and sneakers coolly
take their ease on formal ebony and mother-of-pearl chairs, as if they
have just walked into their own past.
Strolling into Hong Kong's past has become much easier
for everyone these days, thanks to the tourism department's Meet the
People program. Sunday morning feng shui, anyone? At 9:30 a.m., at the
main tourist centre, a master of the 6,000-year-old art of "Wind and
Water" sweeps into the room and gets to work. After showing some
press clippings from San Francisco, where he has worked for Fidelity
Investments and Friends of the Urban Forest, among others, Mr. Cheung
declares, "Trees are very good feng shui," adding that
"stupid guys in Canada cut all the trees." A natural
entertainer, he happily confides that "Life is a drama; I don't care
what role I play." An explosion of laughter follows each
self-deprecating joke. Showing us feng shui's curio-like compass, he
allows that a "boy scout compass will do." An hour passes
quickly, and though I try to follow his "easy" lesson about
relationships among elements such as fire, metal, wood, earth and water in
order to achieve harmony and good energy (chi), I suspect it is more
complicated than he lets on.
One nugget of a story lodges firmly in my brain,
however. In 1997, the Bank of China commissioned a new building from
architect I.M. Pei. His 70-storey twin towers with a knife edge design
point directly at the colonial governor's residence. Menacing and sharp,
the design was viewed as an attempt to intimidate Hong Kong through
powerful feng shui. A waste of money, is the consensus, since much of the
new bank space is vacant. Today, the governor's residence remains
unoccupied -- in spite of the weeping willow planted by another feng shui
master, to absorb the Bank's "secret arrows." Our little class
comes away with new insight into hyper-modern Hong Kong. And I love the
three-part wrap-up: "Happy memories are best. Don't complain.
Travelling is just memories."
Shopping is a time-honoured Hong Kong pastime, whether
it's jeans, pashminas or antiquities. For me, the phrase "Hong Kong
antiques" recalls the day years ago when I was sold serious fakes by
a wholesaler on Hollywood Road, the heart of the curios and antiques
district. (On the upside, I soon realized I was no businesswoman.) Said
dealer shamelessly sent me cheery Christmas cards year after year. So, I
am interested in meeting Victor Choi, the proprietor of Dragon Culture,
another tourism ambassador, who greets visitors in his shop a few
afternoons a week.
An affable gentlemen with two antiques stores, Mr. Choi
boasts more than 30 years in the business. At the low end, he sells small
items for $50, but most of his merchandise, such as his early Tang dynasty
horses and riders, fetch far more. The stuff in the safes downstairs run
to a million bucks, he says.
Fakery in Chinese antiques has a long and distinguished
history. Blue-and-white Ming glazed pottery (1368-1644), has been faked
for over 200 years, allowing for the delightful chance that even your fake
purchase is an antique. For the suspicious buyer, says Mr. Choi, there is
something new, the Oxford Thermoluminescence Test, a procedure that dates
objects within a few hundred years, eliminating the possibility that your
Ming, like mine, came from a Taiwan factory line.
However, spirit should rule when making a purchase.
"Train yourself to have a sense of beauty," counsels Mr. Choi.
"The soul of a piece is difficult to copy." He offers practical
tips too: Avoid [neighbouring] Cat Street-- "it's junk" -- and
don't enter any shop that calls itself a museum. As I leave Hollywood
Road, mildly lusting after a Ming period Kwan Yin, Goddess of Mercy, I
remember a Choi maxim: "Spirit cannot be faked." The goddess was
both genuine and affordable, but her spirit was silent. I feel I've
advanced a rung on the shopping stairway.
My last day begins with a harbourfront Tai Chi class
lead by the ageless Pandora Wu, clad in a red jacket embroidered with
bright flowers. We are outside, and the morning mist has not yet cleared
from a spanking new office tower, still cocooned in green wrappings.
Ferries, fishing boats and barges ply the waters. "Face the bus
station," translates Elke from Germany, as we perform our best
bird-imitations. All over Asia, Tai Chi, done individually or in groups,
opens the day by awakening the spirit. Trying to imitate Pandora's slow,
strong movements, I hold the world in my hands, a great invisible ball. As
the session ends, a cellphone trills. Oops. Chagrined, I talk to a friend
from home. Nobody turns a hair. Was this my quintessential new/old Hong
Kong moment? Absolutely. Connecting with an old friend during a Victoria
Harbour Tai Chi class, bird-wings outstretched to embrace the world.
IF YOU GO:
GETTING THERE I flew Cathay Pacific to Asia. The flight
from Toronto stops in Anchorage, but there is no change of plane. The
flight home to Toronto is non-stop. Business and first-class travellers
can access the lounge in Hong Kong's new airport, with amenities such as
hot showers and free Internet service, plus an on-site spa. Call (800)
268-6868, www.cathaypacific.com.
EATING Among thousands of places to eat in Hong Kong,
many evoke the city's 'old soul'.
MOST ROMANTIC A drink at The Peninsula Hotel at dusk.
Comfy chairs in the vintage lobby, by white pillars topped with gold,
while a jazz trio and potted palms speak of a gentler age.
BEST VIEW The Lobby Lounge in The Regent Hotel offers
sweeping views of the harbour. Great coffee too.
SHANGHAI CHIC Hong Kong's current fascination with all
things Shanghai continues. Can't spice up your Cantonese with a Shanghai
accent? The Club Shanghai in The Regent Hotel mimics Old Shanghai with
opium pipes, lacy anti-macassars on comfy chairs, cigars and
'aphrodisiacs' in a wall of pharmacy drawers. Hong Kong Old Restaurant (www.hkoldrest.com.
hk), at three locations, serves Shanghai delicacies such as smoked egg
with candied walnuts, oven-smoked pigeon and bean curd rolls stuffed with
woodsy-tasting mushrooms.
HONG KONG TRADITIONAL Moon Garden Tea House, 5 Hoi Ping
Road, Causeway Bay, offers a free one-hour introduction to the art of tea.
Vincent Li teaches about tea's near-mystical properties in this restful,
antiques-filled oasis.
Luk Yu Tea House, 24-26 Stanley Street. The city's
oldest teahouse also serves delicious dim sum. You might not get inside if
they don't recognize you, but it's worth a try, just to savour what the
city was like before the Great Transformation. Named for the god of tea.
Dai Pai Dong, Stanley Plaza, Stanley. In the happening
Stanley market area, also home to the oldest Tin Hau (Goddess of the Sea)
Temple in Hong Kong, a living reminder of Hong Kong's fishing village
roots. Dai Pai Dong offers coffee and tea, plus egg-dipped French Toast
with peanut butter.
Happy Garden Noodles & Congee Kitchen, 76 Canton Rd,
Kowloon. Friendly spot serving excellent soups, shrimp dumplings, soothing
congee. Across from the ferry teminal to the mainland.
BEST HIGH TEA Colonialism is dead, but high tea lives
on. The Repulse Bay offers an excellent version: crustless cucumber
sandwiches, smoked salmon, wonderful pastries, with a side of history.
Canadians and British troops, aided by local Chinese, held out here for
three weeks against Japanese invaders. In 1954, William Holden and
Jennifer Jones rowed across the romantic bay in Love Is A Many-Splendored
Thing. Bonus: the best feng shui in all Hong Kong.
SHOPPING Do not hesitate to ask for shopping tips, the
answers alone are worth it: "Behind the Sheraton, in Far East
Mansions, next to the Fotomat, up the steps, press buzzer number
two." Bargain-seekers take the train or ferry to the mainland city of
Shen Zhen, where they snap up the Fendi knock-offs. Caution: you'll need a
Chinese visa, and customs line-ups take time.
EVERYTHING ELSE For more information, contact Hong Kong
Tourism, 9 Temperance St., 3rd floor, Toronto, ON, M5H 1Y6; (800)
563-4582; www.DiscoverHongKong.com.
by Nancy Wigston National
Post
19 February 2002
