The Third Phase: Culture Shock

Our puddle jumper flew us from Sossusvlei to Windhoek International where we caught a jet to Jo’burg. We arrived in the late afternoon and took the shuttle to the O.R.Tambo Airport Marriot hotel. After receiving our stored bags we went to check in. The receptionist informed us we had no reservation. Upon further investigation it turns out there are two Marriot Airport hotels with the same name separated only by "International"; this one outside the airport, where we first stayed, and the one we booked for that night IN the airport, after security check points. The one inside is for international transit layovers only, and can not exit security. We could not get there from here, and the hotel where we were was booked. This all turned out to be a blessing in disguise. As previously written, we really did not like the Marriot outside the airport; bad design, bad air, bad room. We noticed an Intercontinental Hotel adjacent to the airport and had the receptionist book a room there as a splurge. We wanted a comfortable room for a good night's sleep and shower before our 12 hour flight to Hong Kong. After breakfast it would be very convenient to walk to our gate without any shuttle.

After an uneventful flight we arrived in Hong Kong at 7:00 in the morning at the new (20 years old now) airport on Lantau island. From the airport it was an easy 45 minute high speed train ride to Hong Kong Island (formerly Victoria Island) where we stayed for two nights at Pacific Place Conrad Hilton for free using Robin’s points from years working with Hilton.

As many of you know, Robin worked for two years in Hong Kong in the late 70s after getting her undergraduate degree in architecture from Berkley, CA. She has many fond memories of the area and her European expat friends. My first trip to Hong Kong was ten years after she left. During my international career I had many business layovers in the city en-route to and returning from Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia, and mainland China. In both Robin’s days, and my trips in the 90s, we flew into Kai Tak airport, which was built into the bay off the Kowloon Peninsula in the center of the city. There were so many things wrong with the design of that airport. A straight-in visible approach to the airport was not possible because of the mountains and high-rise apartment blocks. The pilots had to fly down a corridor of high-rises, like a Jedi on the Dark Star, toward a checker board on a mountainside, and then bank hard right to align with the runway not visible beforehand. Often the right wheels would touch down while plane was still finishing its bank. The runway orientation was not with the prevailing winds so many landings were difficult crosswind landings. The runway was short and several commercial jets ended up in the harbor. Boeing used the details of the airport in their flight training simulator. Anyone who ever flew into Kai Tak, especially pilots, remembers it very clearly.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR PILOTS

Fly down a corridor of high rise apartments to Kai Tak

Bank hard right at the checkerboard

Descend quickly and level off before touch down

Avoid right engine strike during cross-wind landings

Break hard as runway is short for 747s

Despite each of our positive experiences in Hong Kong, after six weeks immersed in Africa it was a culture shock arriving in this city. Most of southern Africa, while often segregated, is multi-cultural with whites, blacks, coloreds and Asians living in the countries. Hong Kong is mono-cultural. The vast majority are Chinese, and Robin and I gazed over dark haired masses on the street and in the packed subway. During our three weeks of safaris we were surrounded by nature and wide open spaces; the horizon was miles away across a vast natural landscape, and the evenings were dark and glittering with stars. In Hong Kong there is no horizon; the vistas are of traffic clogged streets, or across a bay, to more concrete, steel and glass. The evening sky glows in a blaze of neon and skyscraper lights. In Africa the land was open to trod and you might get eaten; but in Hong Kong the land is built for the automobile and you might get run over. People are shunted over bridges, through retail mall escalators, and across busy traffic with limited access. But the biggest culture shock were people’s values. In Africa most people are just barely getting by or worse. Their priority is eating and providing for their family. Almost all are friendly; willing to go out of their way to help you personally. Hong Kongers are consumed with conspicuous consumption, and the people are absorbed in their own reflection. The city is too crowded to be concerned with others; achieving and displaying wealth is the cultural priority. Robin recalls many sayings recited to her during Chinese New Year: May wealth come pouring in; May your plates and bowls be full of money, Hope money comes to you everyday. And of course the common Chinese New Years greeting is “Gong Hei Fat Choy”, meaning “wishing you great happiness and prosperity”.

View from our room of freeways blocking access to walk easily

View from room and more construction and the Exhibition Center built over the water

Pacific Place, where we stayed, has several hotels on top of a multi-level retail base. To reach the street we navigated elevators, escalators, and corridors though the several levels of retail. The white tile floors, walls, and well lit ceiling highlighted each luxury brand: Louie Vuitton, Gucci, Armani, Swarovski, Channel, Bulgari, and on and on; each glittering storefront displaying the “must have” to show your status. People were fixated on their phones at restaurants, in subways, on dates, and while walking. The culture has different sense of body space, often bumping into you and caroming off without a word. This felt as an invasion of our personal-space after being in the wild open.

We left the mall disgusted with global consumerism, and walked toward the older section of Hong Kong Island that we remembered. Through the ups and downs, dashing through traffic, and across overpasses we found a few familiar sites: an old temple, a garden pond with turtles, a narrow street descending through high-rises, selling fresh fish and vegetables under umbrellas, and an old man still repairing shoes in a corner shack, with a “no photos” sign on his stall. I found the store where I bought antique ceramic sculptures 20 years ago. Along the way, Robin was delighted to see the Helena May, a classic British Colonial residence for single women, where she stayed after arriving in Hong Kong. Although the requirements have changed it still is a residence for women. Hong Kong construction still uses bamboo lashed together for scaffolding on new high-rises. We breathed a sign of relief that some of the old Hong Kong remains in this constantly changing city.

Trying to walk through the city

A bit of old Hong Kong among the towers.

Old temple nestled in high-rises

Old man still repairing shoes on a street corner

The Helena May, where Robin first lived in Hong Kong

Emboldened that the original is still buried within we took the nostalgic Star Ferry to Kowloon Peninsula on the mainland. We remembered the district as filled with cheap camera stores, frenetic neon signs in Chinese characters, and custom shirt “factories” (I used to get custom shirts made in Hong Kong; cheaper and a better fit than Nordstroms). But when we arrived, the main intersection we recalled was anchored by retail in a Chinese interpretation of an Italian Villa - that is so wrong in so many ways - and the rest of the street was taken over by “the Brands”. But off on the side streets there were still the tailors and classic old neon signs attached to the simple eight story apartment blocks.

Star Ferry to Kowloon (now mostly a tourist attraction since the subway)

Faux Italian villa on Kowloon

The Brands have taken over the camera shops

Brand City

But off the main street, the old Hong Kong lives.

Worn out Chinese Sign

The next day we were determined to find the more authenticity to alleviate the culture shock. One of Robin’s favorite stories of her time here is taking the ferry from Hong Kong island to Lantau Island (before the airport). She recalled arriving on the island and getting a taxi to a small remote fishing village. She didn’t remember much of the village except that she had to be pulled by a rope on a flat bottom boat across a river to reach it. She described the natural beauty of the area and the basic lifestyle of the people, which was only a couple hours from the most dense city on earth and financial capital of Asia. She loves that story; as do I. Another time and place.

Before we left Seattle we saw another Anthony Bourdain episode of Parts Unknown, this time on Hong Kong. He went to a small fishing village called Tai-O on Lantau and ate at an open air restaurant in a “stick-house” over the water. I’d never been to Lantau, other than the new airport, and it looked like our kind of place. So we decided to check it out. We took the same train as to the airport but got off at a major transit hub on Lantau Island and caught the #11 bus to Tai-O. After 45 more minutes curving around the mountain side or over looking the shipping lanes between Hong Kong and Macau we arrived. While the fishing village is a bit of a local tourist destination, and is in the process of building a new arrival plaza for the buses, it feels “real”. People still make there living here fishing, living in dilapidated shacks, and selling foods in the street market. But the market is geared to a tourism economy on the weekends with shops and basic noodle restaurants. Part of the town is bisected by an inlet into the village where the fishermen live in stick houses, and moor/beach their boats. We wandered around visiting markets, looking at their shacks, watching locals harvest oysters from the inlet, and paying respects at an old temple. As we were leaving we stoped to photograph the bridge over the inlet, and the old stairs down to the water for access to tour boats. Robin’s memory was suddenly triggered. THIS is the town she visited over forty years ago before the bridge was built; where she descended the same stairs to be pulled across the inlet she remembered as a river. The memories flooded over her. It was great to see. (When we came home she found a photo from the exact same location as the photo below, sans bridge.)

Market in Tai O

Selling herbs and dried fish to mostly Chinese customers

Fisherman shacks with tide out

Old Temple tucked on side street

Digging for oysters

Refurbished temple - the caretakers son said people no longer respect the temple

From Bridge looking up inlet into village

Stairs next to bridge, on right, that Robin descended be pulled across the inlet forty years ago
Matches the photo from the late 70s

On our last day in Hong Kong, we again wanted to get away from the financial center on the island. Robin suggested we visit Mong Kok, another district in Kowloon I’d never been to - or so I thought. We took the subway in search of the Bird Market, Flower Market, Ladies Market and Goldfish Market (which is really a pet market). She remembered this place as “wall to wall people”. It hasn’t changed. It is probably one of the densest areas on earth, not in terms of high-rises, but people on the street. As we caromed our way among the people, the markets, and old mid-rise apartment buildings we noted occasional modern mixed-use towers over high-end retail. It was my turn for reflection. I saw a mixed use project that I toured with a mainland Chinese client twenty years ago. At that time malls were usually only two or three levels (who would go up multiple levels to shop?). This development in Mong Kok was an example of a successful seven level retail mall. Since that tour our firm had done many multi-level retail throughout Asia. Wow, I’d forgotten.

Flower Market in Mong Kok

Men taking their Birds out for fresh air at the Bird Market

Goldfish Market

Classic Kowloon Apartment building

Dense pedestrian Ladies Market

Neon still thrives in Mong Kok

After walking Mong Kok, which was about 90 degrees and 90% humidity, we returned to the Hilton. We had already checked out, but planned to use their health club to shower before leaving for our over night flight back to Seattle. Instead the manager offered an unoccupied room for an hour. We then retired to the lobby where our favorite waitress during High Tea (for us it was happy hour) took care of us before we embarked on another 12 hour flight that finished our trip along the great circle route home.

Our farewell in the Hilton Lounge - a far cry from Africa

We both have fond memories of Hong Kong and without a doubt the city is vibrant and people hustling - it may represent the future of densified living that we, in the single-family-home mindset of the US, don’t experience, but much of the world does. In the ever changing financial center of Asia, you can still find not only pockets, but whole districts on Kowloon, and the outer islands, that have retained their character. But coming from Africa it was a culture shock.

Two weeks after we returned, Hong Kongers demonstrated another aspect of their culture. They see themselves very different than Chinese (maybe like Texans or New Yorkers vs Americans) and are committed to their freedoms and western way of life. They don't trust the Communist Chinese judicial system and rigged elections. We were so impressed with, and supportive of, their two-million person protests. I think we in the US could learn something of Civil Disobediance from them to preserve our liberal democracy (not as in Liberal Policies, but in eighteenth century Philosophy of Governance).

We are now home in our beautiful PNW. While we enjoy getting new perspectives on history and culture, be physically challenged, and intellectually provoked by travel, we love returning to our clean air, green mountains, and moist surroundings. We love to travel, but we know where home is.